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I pulled out my phone thinking I was going to type out “I hate this season.” I’ve said that before. But you know what? It doesn’t feel authentic to say as of now.

I’m not angry, so I guess I’ve stopped hating. I’ve begrudgingly let the change in my circumstances sink it. Fighting change isn’t a choice anymore. It would only make me tired. Or sick.

I don’t know what to do with any of what I feel/don’t feel, so I retreat into fantasies. The ribbon one. The one where I get a neat little ending tied up in a ribbon that doesn’t strangle me. I don’t care what the ending is. If it’s a man, good. If it ends with me milking cows on a farm and having a solid hay-bed to sink into at night, good for me too. As long as I’m safe. As long as I’m secure. As long as I have peace.

My dad is sick in the hospital and wants no visitors/outside contact, so I haven’t had a Father’s Day. There’s no discharge date in sight. I work tomorrow. Work is manageably chaotic. I don’t mind it. It does make me tired, but name any job that doesn’t.

My mom and brother are going on a 10 day trip starting Friday to see my Grandparents. They’ll be going up to their lake house in upstate New York. I went every year of my life minus the past 2 years. I suspect I might never go back.

I got into a huge fight with my mom over her leaving. She’s taking 3 trips. This one is 10 days. I don’t want to deal with my dad’s precarious state alone. Anything could happen. He’s far from out of the woods. Her response was “it’ll all work out.”

I’ve never understood what that’s supposed to mean. How is that comforting? Ummm…. There’s a lot in life that doesn’t “work out.” I hate the whole goddamn situation.

And I can’t do anything except cry it out. I’m starting to crack over all this. I can’t lose it at work though. My 2 jobs are to not lose it at work and to feed my cat. For now. I’m so sad and tired.