Big feelings. How annoying.

The day is really beautiful, big swooping winds and nodding flowers, whistling gusts creeping in through the screen. The sky is blue. The clouds are puffy. I am a good person. I am not homeless yet, but I am feeling restless and unrooted. It feels weird that the day is so nice but my anxiety is so strong. What if? How? When? How much?

Outside someone is cooking hamburgers and the smell is coming through my window. I feel bad for wanting to eat their burger. I feel bad for feeling bad when the day is nice and I should be in it making amazing things happen because I am alive and the world is full of possibilities.

I meant to call a woman I know who has late stage breast cancer. I mean to call her every day. I think about her all the time. I don't know how to talk to her right now because I just lost another friend to breast cancer. It makes me mad that cancer can even exist inside of people who are friends and mamas and sisters and daughters. Boobs are for feeding babies and looking lovely in sundresses, not turning into mean killers. I miss my friend. The one who is gone and the one who is not. I feel terrible that I am such a horrible person and didn't try harder to connect and that I am still not doing it even though I should be. I just don't know how to not be a downer. My problems are big and stupid, but imminent death is bigger and stupider. I don't even know what to say to death. Maybe fuck off until we're all 120 years old? That seems reasonable right? Everything is so fragile. How gorgeous and terrifying.

Update: Buh. I re-read this and find that it came out all wrong. Basically it feels like everyone else knows what to do and their ducks are all in a row and their priorities are all straight and their emotions are the just right kind and that's the kind of mojo I'd like to get in on. Not this other thing. This terrified apathy where things are still beautiful but mostly only for other people. I've got big things in front of me. I feel like I'm about to high dive into a pool but I know there is no water in it. I am supposed to jump and know that somehow its going fill up in that brief time between jumping and landing. I'm running out of faith. And telling myself to just cut it out is overly simplistic and ineffective. So now what?

Update Some More: I am also yelling at myself in the voice of my sister. She judged me pretty harshly and since then we haven't spoken. So now I have picked up the flavor of that conversation and I am hitting myself over the head with it. How dumb. How merciless. How unfair to everyone. I miss my sister. She took a lot of things really wrong and now it's all full of bees and I am still pissed off but not how she might imagine. And she is probably still pissed off but not how I would imagine, and in between all this imagining is the fact that we are not communicating and in the meantime, life just keeps running out and rolling on and filling and emptying and all those other things it does.