maybe i'm premenstrual, maybe i'm adjusting to the fall gloom, maybe i'm just having a day, but lately i just feel so blah. sad and down around the mouth, missing my dad and the way things were before he died, wondering if i'll ever get a handle on this grief and start doing something beside stagnate ever again. i don't make anything, i could spend all day every day napping, and if it isn't salty or sweet i don't want to eat it. perhaps this irritation at the way things currently are means i'm going to shake myself out of it sooner rather than later, but honestly, right now i'm just annoyed with me and my life. i feel short tempered and then guilty about being snappish, tired and then restless. i want to go out, then i do and i hate it. i want to work when i'm at home, and when i'm at work i want to be home. i'm contrary and even i don't want to hear my bitching. i'm hoping that by just saying it out loud, writing it down, getting it out of my head might help. i know i'm wallowing in it, i know it's self-indulgent to even blog about it (but what is a blog but self-indulgence?), i just feel out of it. i really, honestly, miss my pop. i'm not trying to get sympathy, i'm not trying to milk it, it's just always there. at times more sharply than others. does it still hurt so bad because i hate crying about it and try not to? would it matter at all if i tried to cry it all out? i don't even know that's a possibility.

my relationship with my mom and sister are like entirely new creatures as well. i don't even feel like i have them to fall back on. i have this terrible feeling they don't like me any more than i do. on my birthday my sister didn't even bother calling, and my mother was annoyed with me and ended my phone call with an "okay, i'll talk to you later." never an "i love you" anymore. thanksgiving already feels like it's going to be tense and possibly unpleasant. i don't even know what they're going through, how i've offended, or if i even have; there's always the chance that our own individual griefs are just taking us in different directions. what's hard about that is i always thought i'd have them. i thought i would be able to talk to them and they would know what i was going through, i expected us to band together and face this head on together. like all things i have learned from tv, it's not what i thought it was. pop getting sick didn't mean we had deep talks about life and reconcile before he died. there were very few, if any, hallmark moments. the aftermath of his death is no different. my family isn't the same anymore. i know and understand that's normal, the rational part of my brain can do the math and see how natural this is, but it still hurts me in a way i could have never forseen.

this is all very one-sided, you know. what my mother and sister are going through are unknown to me. there's a good chance i'm so stuck in my own head, my own life, that i'm being a terrible sister and daughter. i know are there are things i could be doing to make this better, i know that not saying some of this out loud to them isn't healthy or constructive; but as much as i hurt now, i'm terrified of doing something that would permanently alter our relationship in a bad way. i don't want to risk losing them altogether, and at this point that feels like a very real possibility. it's just not a risk i'm willing to take. things aren't unbearable, things aren't great, i'm getting chubbier and sadder, but i'm not at rock bottom. for now that's going to have to cheer me up. that and andrew wk's tweets. damn, i love those things.