Concussion recovery has been slow. I get tired if i think or do too much. One day I found myself in tears almost constantly. Could Not. Stop. Crying. I was trying to be fun because we still had two days of vacation. I thought we could bike to the park with a picnic and read our books and do the crossword and get fancy ice cream, but in the end I begged my therapist to move my session up by a day and did an hour of hard but necessary therapy by phone [we are Unearthing Trauma]. R went out and got the best crusty italian bread and made me an amazing tomato sandwich that i ate in bed. And then we split a gummy and he rubbed my feet until I slid into a deep and dreamless sleep. I emerged after almost four hours with my brain reset. Grateful for these supports.

R hasn't had to see too much of my General Malaise, as I call it, because i can often contain it until he leaves for work and then i can kind of fake it after he gets home. Or I wait til I go home to my parents' place and then I barely get out of bed for a few days. But it was going to come out sometime. He doesn't seem to have this kind of darkness in him and I've worried that he won't be able to relate, but he was so lovely about it. Supportive but also unobstrusive.

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my dad's CT showed a shadow in his chest. He went for a diagnostic ultrasound yesterday. He's been coughing.

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i've been away a lot over the last month - we went to Ottawa for a weekend to visit old friends. Before that we spent a long weekend camping with R's brother and family, and the weekend before that, we flew to DC for a weekend to help E move out of her apartment after a sad breakup. I've been coming by my parents' place, but just for a couple of nights every week. On Wednesday I got home after about five days away and found my mother worn thin and spiky, bubbling with rage at the unfairness of being stuck in this untenable situation. My father drinks in the basement every afternoon and emerges vague and repeating himself, with this fake-jovial laugh that puts my teeth on edge. He does this thing where he asks a question that requires you to respond, doesn't listen to the answer, fake-laughs to pretend he's listening, and then five minutes later he asks the same question again. It makes him feel like he's holding up his end of the conversation. Right now he is vacuuming, even though it doesn't need to be done, so he can justify whatever number of drinks he will have in the afternoon. Whatever. It's cardio. In the mornings he is normal and nice and i remember that it isn't always terrible. I texted R to say, "i can't be gone so much, I have to be here". I feel pulled in so many directions.

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J's son said that if he ever needs to signal that he's being held against his will, he will work the code word "tyranny" into the conversation. I told R that mine will be, "love you to the moon and back". I proposed that his might be, "No rush, let's just leave that stuff and unpack everything next month". Or, "Did you hear about the new hot dog-eclair mashup? I don't want to try that at all".

10:52 a.m. - 2022-08-11