I just had myself a good cry. Looking at the LIPA outage maps, seeing their vague tweets, unable to get a definitive answer from them and now there is some kind of hellish crunchy rain happening out there, I’m at the end.
I can not take another night of this. I can not sleep (sleep, hah) on a broken sofa couch again nor can I sleep on a recliner. Yes, I’m thankful for a warm house even if it’s not mine and hot food but I have slept maybe five hours total in the past nine days, that is not even an exaggeration, I wish it was. My mind is going, my body is broken and I miss my home and all that comes with it. My kids are depressed and anxious and want to go home. This is putting a strain on Todd and I and I don’t like it. It’s also putting a strain on our entire family having nine of us under one roof, plus eleven when my other sister and nephew come for dinner (they have a generator at night).
I am so frustrated with LIPA. Not with the workers who I understand are doing incredible work under stressful, trying circumstances, but with the company’s management of this whole thing and their complete refusal to communicate with honesty. Had they said to me from the beginning, listen, it’s gonna be at least a week, I might not be so frustrated now because I would have known instead of always getting that “any day now” message from them. And now I’m not even sure the generic message of tonight they’ve been telling EVERYONE is even true.
We are going away Friday. What do I do if the power isn’t back by then? Have my kids stay with my parents another whole week? What do I do with my dog then? How the fuck am I supposed to get ready for what is supposed to be our anniversary vacation that we both needed more than I can even tell you.
I am sick of whining. I am sick of this. I keep wondering how I can help the victims of Sandy and a friend said to me today “But YOU are a victim of Sandy.”
I am really, truly uncomfortable being a victim. I don’t like being helpless to fix a situation. I don’t like being powerless (hahah see what I did there).
I think after nine days of this I own that right to sit here and cry and whine but it doesn’t mean I enjoy doing it or even want to do it. But if I don’t get all this shit that is boiling up inside of me out, it’s going to come out the wrong way at the wrong time toward the wrong party.
Forgive my self indulgent whining, please.
I’m at the end, here. Not all the Abilify and Xanax in the world is going to get me through another day of this. Another night. Oh god not another night.
Ok, I’m done.