I got through this week with what feels like a 1/3 of the normal amount of sleep but was probabaly something like 1/2. I can and do blame Stokrin, but I know that it only interacts with me insofar as I am stressed, mentaly unstable, or whatever term for looney you want to pick. Having said that, Stocrin has been known to drive patients to a psychotic or near-psychotic state, and this is not just an internet anecdote but something every honest professional working with it (like T., my beloved social worker) will be able to tell.
This week, I asked P., who returned into my beckoning arms, to move in with me. There was always the side of me that hoped that a guy might actually pursue me, and some have, but somehow the few that I have ever really been enamoured with had to be coaxed and prodded into a relationship, and P. more than most. I get bitterly disappointed though when he needs to think about it, hesitates, says yes let's do it in March and seconds later looks around his place and sighs that he is already starting to miss it, and backs out. I even cleared a room in my apartment trying to prove to him that most of our belongings can coexist. Now we are here, he is sleeping, I am up already, after a long night of partial insomnia and stomach upset, and the apartment looks great, but I still don't know if he will make the move or not. Which is of course only a fragment of the real issue, will we or will we not make the effort to stay together at the end of the year when his job here is done, and who will carry the brunt of the effort.
It's wierd because I know that he loves me, but I am tired of being the one who says I love you and just sees a smile. Not that I say I love you every day, but when I do, I get a smile and a kiss (except for 2 maybe 3 times). And I think this is symptomatic of the whole relationship. But last night in between sprints to the toilet I figured it out in what is a halfway mature way I think. I figured out the way in which, in conection with our respective families we live and love each other (or others for that matter). I felt like I had another growth sprint, because the last week(s) were characterizes by sulkiness and feelings of rejection on my part, which I am sure he could sense even when I was usually smart enough to try to hide them. But now they are gone. This is P. This is me. I chose to be with him, so I have to accept that he will always be like this. Something like that... he will always hold back and pepper his love with doses of rejection, just like I will always equate it with longing and misunderstanding, based on my own prehistory.
Other things have happened. I have to take another test for cervical cancer, this time really fearing the results with more than just the unease that accompanies any medical test. I didn't even hide it from my parents, because I am so scared that I don't feel like hiding it. I don't want to have any cancer, ever, but especially not there, but I am at high risk for it, as a smoker, as someone who'd had multiple partners, as someone who'd had a lot pf premature sex, and now most of all as a poz. And there is a finding which suggests some abnormality, but I will have to go through the medical heirarchy and beaurocracy to confirm anything.
Workwise, things are spiralling into a buzz of activity, and I have to do something which scares the craout of me, speack in public, and not the way people usually speak in publ;ic to a room full of strangers, which is bad enough, but podium style with a microphone in a strange country, for an incredibely long time, and about things that I am not confident that I know well enough or well at all. But this is a huge opportunity for me, a real breakthrough, and I have to take it, oh and did I forget to mention that it is only in two months but that there are a million things on the way, including another talk, a report, and carrying on working on the usual things that I do. I might as well start working now and stop then. But I desperately need some balance and quiet in my life and more so if I am going to undertake all these things. So I need to make some sort of plan, which is something I am bad at (who wouldn't be with rampant hormones, insomnia, and a head for of acid-like hallucinations every time they manage to fall asleep, as well as very real things to worry about. I might as well be running a country with all the stress I undergo, which if nothing wrecks havoc on the immune system. It's so ironic, that life keeps taking me to the most stressful and unusual place, and that it is so strange, and maybe nothing is special about that, I am just like everyone, but I so want a break from all of this. Just to open a window and breath some freah air and look at a blue skies (as they are, incredibely, today), and not think about hiding any marks or scars or fundamental triths about myself, and not think about impressing anyone or communicating anything, and go back to a white sheet bed with a book and a warm sleepy guy who kisses me on the forehead, and puts me to sleep.