A post in which I feel pretty crappy*

I was up early with insomnia - this is the third day in a row.  Today I was up at 4:30.

I went to work kind of in a daze, and just started working.  There was plenty to do.

As usual when I feel bad, I turned to sex for reassurance.  I talked to Jeff, a buddy I hadn't seen in a while, and went to see him for a nooner.  He's a nice guy, and it was fun, but I didn't really feel much better when I left.  I was just exhausted.

I have an anal fissure, and when I'm under stress, it bleeds.  It bled all day today.

On the one hand, I don't want to be a bad son.  I have really tried to keep my commitment to see Dad about once a week. 

On the other hand, between Eve's emotionally volatility, and Dad's extreme political beliefs, I generally feel like I'm walking on eggshells when I'm over there.  The most innocuous comment can cause either of them to explode with little to no warning.  Even saying the word "Obama" around my dad is like waving a red flag at a bull.  The mere passing mention of Cindy is enough to send Eve into paroxysms of grief. 

On the one hand I sympathize with her.  I really, truly do.

On the other hand, this stubborn refusal to let go of any smidgen of pain becomes selfish at some point.  I think she may be refusing to let herself heal because it's some kind of sick last tie to Brenden.  She has not only made the decision that she will be miserable for the rest of her life; she has also decided to drag us into the 'Cindy-hole' with her whenever she feels like it.  It has been years since this rift happened.  I keep thinking that it will get better, but it doesn't.  I don't know that I can live this way.  How long are you required to support someone when they refuse any suggestion of moving on with their lives?

By the end of the day, with the lack of sleep, the upset from last night, and the bleeding, I was thoroughly exhausted.  All I wanted to do was go home and go to bed, which I decided to do.  I finished up the pasta salad and turned in.