Dear Diary

I don’t think it’s a very good sign when you enjoy a couples company better when the two of them are not both around. It gives me a funny feeling in the pit of my stomach. I enjoy my uncle’s company better when my aunt is not around, and vice versa. That doesn’t seem right.

A guy at work today looked so tired. Somehow, seeing people tired just really makes my “caregiver” hormones kick in. You know? The kind that makes you want to say, “awww. . .” and make their life easier somehow. At the very least give them a  sympathetic, “Rough day, huh?” and a comforting squeeze of the shoulder. Only thing is, that’s totally inappropriate. Sometimes it seems mean that being kind is inappropriate, but when you are single female student and the person in question is someone you hardly know, male, married with kids, and most definitely your superior — no. Just no. You don’t do that. But you can still go home feeling bad for them.

I don’t know why I always feel ashamed to be tired, but I do. I’m bone-weary tired, and embarrassed that anyone should know it. Embarrassed, even, to admit it to myself. I stayed up an hour later last night, just because it was “too early” to go to bed. Needless to say, I’m even more tired today. It just seems too pathetic to do nothing but go to work, come home, eat supper, and go to bed, and I hate to admit to myself that during times of transition and adaption, it is, for me, hugely emotionally draining and must be attended to. And that attending to it means being quiet, being alone, and doing a lot of sleeping. A lot of sleeping. On the way in, I almost wondered if maybe I was “depressed,” but I don’t think it’s depressed as much as “overwhelmed and coping.”

I guess that’s partly why I find it embarrassing. I feel like I “shouldn’t” be this overwhelmed, but I am. People tell me things like, “you’re a very intelligent, competent young woman” like that means I can do anything. Well, maybe I “can” but that doesn’t mean it doesn’t come without a high cost. Maybe I am “rocking it” during the day, but that doesn’t mean that by the end of the day I don’t want to just crawl into a hole and hide.

I hear one uncle downstairs skyping with my other uncle, and he’s mentioning that my aunt is out, I’m up in my room, and he’s downstairs alone. I feel guilty, but also extremely disinclined to join him. He was reading the paper. No, he was reading the paper and shoved a piece of the paper at me and said, “here, read this, so I don’t have to feel bad for reading the paper.” We were still at the supper table. I read for a little bit just to keep him company, but the paper is not really that fascinating. I don’t want to go down now and make awkward small talk at the glowing screen. I was a nice people-person all day, and I don’t have any left.

My eyes are burning. I’m going to get ready for bed. Yes, even though it’s not yet 8 o’clock. I just can’t do today any longer.

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