Aching.
Pure, physical, aching, bone deep, weary pain. Exhaustion. Feeling like the world has run me over, then backed up for another go.
Today was the day of guilt and manipulation. Of feeling like I was taking advantage of people, and my mother, by explaining what was going on in the effort to get services I needed in order to leave – primarily, to have the cats health certificated, so they can fly with me. The original hospital apparently saw dollar signs at my distress, and wanted to charge almost $250 for paperwork and shots. For a while, it looked like I was going to have to leave my cats behind – and I got caught in the horrible position of being torn between my pets and my mother.
I know that, on the surface of it, cats v mom seems like Mom would win easily. And she would have; I was already calling around making arrangements for someone to check on them every couple of days. But part of me would have been here, constantly worrying about them. Lunar is, after all, getting old, and Toledo likes to get in trouble, and as my father pointed out – asking anyone to watch cats for one or two months, or more, is asking a lot.
Thankfully, in my calling around, I found someone who – well, I want to say was kind. In fact, everyone there was very kind, but I feel I manipulated them into it. Breaking down, voice cracking and thick with tears, explaining why I needed such a last minute request – I’m not a flake, it’s just that…
So the cats will be accompanying me tomorrow, presuming nothing goes wrong with the airlines. We’re at Laurie’s right now – she’s kindly agreed to haul our butts to the airport at o’dark’early. But I’m left, now, so tired I physically hurt, the back of my mind having to ask “is this the thought of an addict?” as I think about how much I want to get up and take my morphine, my vicodin, to have at least the physical pain fade away. And I worry that it’s another thing to worry about, and think about.
And I’m also left thinking about the people I had to interact with today, at the bank and school and various vets, and how things bend so easily to what you want when you have a compelling reason, a story, a reason for people to pity you. And I wonder about manipulating that, and how not to, while still getting the benefits I, frankly, need.
It’s a lot to think about, worry about – to feel guilty about.