Wow, I think it’s been a week or so since my last post. We’ve been back from the camping trip since Sunday, but to be honest, I’ve been feeling a bit down. I sleep all the time. On Sunday, I napped in the evening after arriving home, got up for a few hours, and went back to bed. I think I slept another 10 hours. Then, Monday night, I started napping at like 7 or 8 pm, and pretty much didn’t get up until 10 am the next day – aside from the move to the bedroom. I don’t know why I’m sleeping so much, but I do feel quite down, so maybe it’s depression. I saw my therapist yesterday, and I hadn’t seen her in a few weeks, so that was good, but it was weird, I couldn’t really talk about how I was feeling. It was like, I just didn’t know. Me? What’s up with me? Well, hard to say. I spoke about my mom, my husband, my cats, and the people I babysit for, but me? I didn’t know what to say.
I started crying at the airport on Thursday, when we left for the trip. We weren’t checking any luggage and we were dead broke ($13 was all we had) so I hadn’t bought any travel size sunscreen. I brought this container of spray sunscreen that I’ve been using, and they took away my sunscreen. I know I haven’t mentioned it on this blog yet, but I had skin cancer last summer; it was removed so at the moment I don’t technically have skin cancer, but I have to get checked every 6 months and there’s something like a 50% chance of getting it again some place else on my body, so I’m really careful about sunscreen and the sun, and I’m really sensitive about being outdoors.
I lasted about 5 minutes after he took away my sunscreen, walking with Husband and feeling embarrassed about how I had reacted, and then we got in line to spend our $13 on breakfast at the McDonald’s, and I just started crying. It just came out. So there I was, crying pretty hard, telling Husband between sobs how I hate these stupid liquid rules, how America is so scared and how getting my sunscreen taken away just reminds me of how ridiculously fucked up our response to the fear of terrorism is, and I don’t want anything at McDonald’s anyway because their food is greasy and gross, and after we pay we agree that I should have an apple pie, so little crying me and my husband ask the cashier to add an apple pie, and she says, “What’s wrong? Don’t cry.” The woman probably thought I was crying over the apple pie.
I’m getting all too used to crying in public, to having the tears stream down my face and just continuing on like nothings happening. Telling people, “No, you can’t help,” and just carrying on like I’m not crying, trying to distract myself. It’s really weird, probably mostly because it’s so socially abnormal to be crying really hard and not try to hide it, but to ask people just to pretend it’s not happening. Yeah, that’s my life.