thoughts not for the faint of heart.

i should be asleep right now. not because i've got a curfew and i'll lose my allowance if i don't get to bed on time, but i should really sleep. however, if tossing and turning counted as beauty sleep, well, let's just say i'd be hot. really effing hot.
my dad is far too nice to me and in support of my not smoking effort, he sent me a gift card to take to old navy. i heart old navy and on this particular night i really hearted (what? why can't i speak normally) a trench coat at old navy. i'll post a picture of coat later. anyhow, i haul ass out to the MOA (b/c that's where girls "my size" can get old navy clothing) right before they close and i buy the coat, in addition to a great shirt. a great green shirt. it's a soft cotten hug for my torso.
so the coat, now that i have it home, looks hideous. time for a return. but all this is inconsequential, because i had a very strange, very hypnotic drive to and from the mall, and it made me think.
first i looked at the sky and, with the fog (or the pollution from the pollution warning today) it had a dark charcoal color and the texture was something i'd not noticed before -- it was like you could reach up and touch the sky and instead of feeling vaporous nothingness you'd feel something akin to velvet..but fuzzier. i couldn't stop staring at it and, while going south on 35E, there would be moments where i couldn't see oncoming cars but i could see the faint headlight glow over the median and it was, well, enticing. like i wanted to breathe in was i was looking at, taste it and swallow it down. it looked like what a deep sleep must look like to those who experience it (not me, as i cannot sleep very well).
it's been a hard couple of days and not having that lovely little cigarette crutch has been especially hard. saw the therapist last night and i'm going to make a list of questions that i would like to ask that evil disgusting piece of human garbage back in minot. i always invision myself calling him and running through a list of questions. what would those questions be, my shrink wondered... i'm contemplating...
so, to any of you who know of what i speak, what would YOU ask? can a person like that even be expected to respond in any sort of satisfactory way? even if he swore up and down that he knows he is sick and what he did to me (and god knows how many others), would that ever be enough for me?
my shrink also asked me if i would want him dead. tough call, i replied, but no. isn't that just a little too easy? really, i mean, if i have to suck this crap up for the rest of my existence, never feeling as though i'm going to be okay or be over this, shouldn't he have a little discomfort? oh, that's right, his wife left him (20 years later than she should have)...poor man, how does he deal with that? geez, i'm surprised he doesn't just throw in the towel. that must be WAY worse than...
there are just some times that i think about it more than others.
and it's not even so much that i'm replaying details over in my head, it's kind of an overall picture of how i feel, how i see myself and how i never know if what i'm feeling or seeing is rational. ultimately it comes back to this impending sense of doom, this feeling that my heart is being broken again and again and there is nothing in the world that is going to make me OK.
i'm so tired of wearing this fucking disguise of a functional person. no, i function. i am a good mom. a little high maintenance sometimes as far as girlfriends go. but it's hard to do the day-to-day things when you feel like there is something inherently wrong with you. it's hard to run to the grocery store and buy the eggs and come home and do the laundry and get ready for work in the morning when deep down you know that no matter how many "normal" activities you get done, no matter how many projects are finished at work or how many bills get paid, there will always be something lurking behind you, waiting to pounce.
sweet dreams.