As predicted, GOM’s leaving date has shifted… again. Now it’s Monday. The catch? His site has to be cleared by 11am. The problem? I can’t clear his site until he leaves. So, I’ll do what I can, and if the rest doesn’t get done in time, well… he’ll have to deal with the consequences. I’m not a miracle worker.
On a more positive note, I’ve done everything I can. Every non-daily item has been boxed, bagged, or stacked neatly into containers. Why a man who doesn’t cook needs three sets of pans in a 20ft trailer is absolutely not my business, and I’m not asking.
His daily-use stuff? Sorted. Cleaned. Put in sensible places. The only things left are the ones he’s actively guarding like a dragon hoarding gold. If he wants to do them himself, fine. I’ve done my part. Actually, I’ve done more than my part. Not just for now, but for future seasons too.
Yeah, I still have concerns. A few red flags waving in the background. But I can’t control those, and I’ll deal with them if (when) they show up.
This last week? Brutal. It wrecked my routines, my mental health, and any hope I had of self-care. But it also reminded me, I can do hard things. I said “No” a few times, and while I didn’t feel great about it, I wasn’t swallowed by guilt either. Just… mildly nibbled. smirk
And when I spiraled a little? I didn’t add shame on top of it. I let myself feel what I needed to feel and got through it without making it ten times worse. That counts for something.
So today, I decided I was taking the day off. Which, for me, meant running around like a headless chicken trying to catch up on my own stuff. The plan was to check in with GOM around 5pm, have a beer, walk his dog, make a plan for tomorrow.
Spoiler alert: That didn’t happen.
Instead, things went sideways again. His car’s knackered. He’s frustrated and clearly struggling with the limits of what he can do. And I do have empathy. I really do. But there’s nothing left I can offer.
I know I need to stop putting off my own care. And I know that continuing to do so is me leaning into a victim mindset I don’t want to live in. It’s okay to be frustrated, even flattened by how hard adapting is, especially when I don’t have much support.
But something’s got to shift.
Right now, I’m staring down some old coping mechanisms I usually avoid like the plague. Not the healthiest options, but when you’re already dangling off the cliff edge, maybe letting go and hitting the bottom gives you something solid to push off from?
I’m not saying it’s smart. I’m saying it’s where I’m at.
I haven’t had a drink in a long time. But after writing this? I’m pouring a vodka. Not to numb it all out. Just… to acknowledge it.
Am I convincing you? Or myself?
…Fuck it.