Yo ho!

I owe Allister an email with my posts of the week so I thought I’d squeeze in one more before I hit “send.” Yesterday’s group was very productive. I’m not going to be specific; I don’t want to break the confidentiality rule. Just know, that I received and gave advice on how to handle current situations. My situation, I will happily tell you. I’m still having trouble with Montreal. He doesn’t realize how he treats me (it’s not that it’s bad but it’s a little too positive) and what effect that’s having on our relationship. He means well and he’s trying to be supportive but the way he’s doing it is pushing me away. I don’t want to see him; the thought of it actually makes me physically shiver. And talking to him is hard too. I don’t know. I sent him an email, explaining the situation, using my “interpersonal effectiveness” skills (that’s what we’re learning in group) but he didn’t hear a word I said. The group suggested that I call him and have a little more one-on-one communication but I haven’t built up the courage to actually do it. I’ll probably try this weekend. I also have a mid-term in my Medical Terms and Ethics class this weekend (Saturday) but the computer I’m currently on in, where else, the library won’t read my flash drive, which has all my notes on it! It’s very frustrating! I really need to study for this mid-term because it’s a lot of vocab words and all the word combinations (like prefixes, suffixes and word roots). I’m trying to stay on track with school and for the most part, I think I’m doing okay. I finally got all of my presentations out of the way this week. I’m pretty sure those were the last ones I had to do. Next, it’s all papers. I spoke to Leonard (cousin) on Wednesday about God and my struggles. It was a very enlightening conversation. He gave me some really good affirmations to use. My little ritual, suggested by both Skye and Leonard, is to light a candle, name something I’m thankful for, spend a minute or two loving myself unconditionally and then reciting the affirmations. I generally walk away feeling more cleansed and better than when I sat down. I do it at the end of the day when my stress level is usually pretty high. Okay, this whole blog I feel like I’m skating around a deeper issue that’s bothering me. I don’t know what that issue is. I think it might be a combination of Mara, my test, and Bryan’s anniversary passing. I didn’t do anything for him yesterday and I feel bad. Normally, I’ll go visit him, talk with him but yesterday I forgot. And I feel horrible. Like, no one loves him anymore. I know my dad does but he never visits him. And I know for a fact that Kim and Ms. H aren’t moving their asses over there. No one sees him or Sharon. I never knew Sharon but it’s really upsetting that they’re all alone all the time. Even on their anniversaries and birthdays. I didn’t shed a single tear for him. I went to group, I took a nap, I hung out with Ty but other than that, I did absolutely nothing. My test is worrying me because there’s so much information and I still haven’t studied. Yesterday I typed up all the word combinations that I needed to look over but like I mentioned earlier, my flash drive isn’t reading so I can’t look those notes over. It’s just going to be stressful. And Mara. She came up because I created a Google Calendars account so I would have both a hard record and a digital record of all my appointments. It’s a really nice little app and I was scrolling through, adding different appointments and events I know are going to happen. And of course, I went to January to put in Thomas’s birthday and thought of hers. I almost actually put it on my calendar but then I thought, what’s the point? It’s not like I’m going to get any contact with her. It pisses me off that she has so much power over me still. I mean I’ve taken a tremendous amount of power away from her by severing ties but the fact that she can still ruin my day says something. Let’s DBT this. Interpersonal Effectiveness would be pointless because she’s not going to talk to me so that’s out. Emotional Regulation: needs to happen whenever I see her. I need to be able to continue on with my day without totally losing it like I do now. Mindfulness: Definitely needed. Getting used to focusing on the moment and ignoring her glares or presence will take practice but it’s a really good tactic. In my emotional army, I’ve got General ER (Emotional Regulation) and Lieutenant OM (One-Mindfully). Together, we will sweep the battle and reclaim my life, declaring victory once the enemy has been destroyed. Yea, it’s official, I’ve been watching too much Military Channel with my dad. Um, what’s another little analogy? Every time I see Mara, she pokes holes in my ship. The ship starts to sink and I’m not sure I can swim on my own. She’s poked too many holes for me to cover them up so I usually have to abandon the ship (my day) and swim as best I can to shore (struggling to get home to go to bed which is what I usually do). With ER, OM and I forgot OA (Opposite Action, the superhero) I can plug the holes up and continue sailing on. Ha, that’s a better one. Right now my ship is barely coasting along. I need to get it back on track and sailing fast. My test and Bryan’s anniversary are like pirates coming to plunder my goodies (that sounds naughty). OA to the rescue! I guess I’m going to retype my notes from yesterday so I don’t waste another hour not studying! Sail on, friends! Sail on!


Too Tired

Today will most likely be a double post day. Why? Because it’s 3:49 AM and I usually post on Wednesday mornings, just not at this ungodly hour. I can’t sleep again. Same reasons: every time I close my eyes, I picture something horrible happening to my family. I’ve been sleeping with the light on to combat this problem recently but even then, I still have trouble staying asleep. I’m tired, don’t misunderstand me, but I can’t stay asleep. It’s one of the worst feelings in the world. I figured I’d do some opposite action and get up, do something else and then try to fall asleep later. I don’t know how late later will be though. I’ve made some progress over these past few days in dealing with relationships. I don’t know if I mentioned this in my post the other day. I know last week I was talking about the prospect of new relationships and how that really frightened me. Well, on Sunday I did my deviance project with Amanda and Ty at Ikea. We were supposed to do something deviant, that is act out of the normal. We decided to mess around by sleeping in the beds, racing desk chairs and sitting next to customers who were testing out couches. It was pretty fun. And before we started, Ty was running late so Amanda and I talked for about half an hour. I was honest and acted like myself…and she didn’t run for the hills. It was really reassuring. And the next day (Monday), we even made plans to take classes with each other next semester. I was worried that this would be a temporary relationship, one that only lasted as long as the project/class did, but it doesn’t seem to be working out that way. I had a really good time Sunday. And on Monday, I had to work on another group project (with a different group for my computer class) and had a really good time then too. I’d met with Casey and Ryan on Friday at my house. We’d ordered pizza and worked on our project for about 3 hours. We found out on Monday (the teacher gave us all class period to work on it then too) that the project was due Wednesday and we weren’t finished. We met up again at Casey’s house. Ryan couldn’t stay long but Casey and I got a lot of work (and talking) done. We worked on it again yesterday (Tuesday since it’s past midnight), and actually spent more time talking about other things than we did working on the project. Again, I was brutally honest, sharing the fact that I had BPD, depression, was a cutter and my whole Mara situation. And that was something that was both relieving and scary. But again, she didn’t reject me. She actually related to me in a way. I don’t know, I don’t think the entire experience was all that negative, something I’m not used to.

That was written as it says, at 3:49 AM. It’s now 10:01 AM and a cup of coffee later. I didn’t present my group project in computer class this morning. Only two groups got to go. We’re going on Friday, but I’m a little relieved. It gives us a little longer to make sure we really understand the material. And I meant what I said about those relationships. Casey now texts me all the time. Ryan’s phone is broken so we don’t stay in touch as much but when I see him, we say hi and joke around so it’s not so bad. I definitely think this is a step in the right direction. I hope I don’t regret saying that. I mean, even admitting that this is a positive thing, something that’s good for me, is difficult. Take Montreal for example. He’s good for me. He genuinely loves me, flaws and all. I treat him like shit though. I ignore him for days, don’t pick up his phone calls and never return them. He doesn’t get mad at me though, he knows (I think) that it’s all part and parcel of being in a relationship with me. That’s where a little of that narcissism I mentioned a few posts back comes in. It’s a little self-centered for me to be doing this but I can’t help it. I know Allister, opposite action! Don’t worry, I’m working on it! I’ve been trying to reply to him and respond to his phone calls (I still haven’t overcome answering them) but it’s difficult. I feel like I’m being smothered a little bit. And the fact that he doesn’t get mad at me when I ignore him really bothers me. Like, that should upset you but he’s got me on such a high pedestal that he doesn’t think I can do wrong. I’ve been trying to destroy that perfect image of me but it doesn’t work. He’s just so accepting of everything I do, say and am. I’ve never experienced that before. Some of it, I think, is my semi-conscious attempt to sabotage this relationship. I’m trying to tip the scale and make it more dysfunctional. It’s failing miserably though. I don’t know. I’m writing about it on my Interpersonal Effectiveness homework and that’s helping. It’s allowing me to see a new perspective. And I’ve contacted my cousin who’s a pastor, to see if he can’t provide some spiritual insight. I hope he can. Prayers have been tumbling out of my mouth like a waterfall. Every time I hear a siren, I pray. When the urge randomly strikes me, I pray. I saw a tow truck yesterday and the part that holds the car was folded up against the truck. It was in the shape of a cross so what did I do? You guessed it, I started praying. At night, when I can’t sleep, I pray for my family and for myself. I’m scared that demons are going to come stealthily through the night and torturously (I don’t think that’s a word but it is now!) murder my family, forcing me to watch. He’d spare me and the dog, making sure we saw every gruesome detail, then he would let me sit for a while, brewing, until he was ready to kill me too. That’s what I’m afraid of. Of the unknown. I can’t see these enemies. God can, but I can’t, so I have to ask God for protection, for forgiveness and for strength. That’s why my light stays on at night. I feel like if the light’s on, God can better see the demons trying to enter the house. Maybe I should burn sage and have Pastor Merrit come over and bless the house. That would be nice. I highly doubt it would let me sleep at night but that’s beside the point. I’m really tired this morning. Like when this happened last week, I was able to tough it out and make it through the days without sleeping but today, my eyes keep going out of focus, a hint that I’m sleepy. Maybe I’m not thinking clearly from this sudden lack of sleep. After I wrote the blog post above, I watched an episode of Law and Order: SVU and then tried to sleep again. I tossed, turned and pushed Poco around until my alarm went off at 6:00. I got up, and got ready without incident. But maybe because I hardly slept last week, and my lack of decent REM this week has made me more than a little delusional. Maybe that’s why I’m so terrified. Allister was telling me just last night that the way to combat anxiety and OCD is through mindfulness, tolerating the moment and wise mind. Last night I had absolutely no focus in me. Tonight though, I think it’s worth a shot. Because I need to sleep. I’m too tired for this shit. I’m too tired for all this shit.

Does History Repeat Itself?

I should be doing my Medical Terms and Ethics homework right now but I left my flash drive at home. I’m waiting for my dad to email me my notes from it but who knows if he’ll actually do it? Okay, that was slightly mean. I know he’ll try his best to do it, I just don’t know when it’ll happen. That’s better. Anyway, I had group yesterday and Allister likes to assign us these worksheets for homework. They’re common myths believed by people about certain subjects. Last night’s subject was “Interpersonal Effectiveness.” Basically, it’s how to maintain healthy relationships. The myths were so hard for me to challenge or disprove that I instead wrote up a paper on how these myths were actually very true. Eventually, with the help of the group, I came up with a few challenges but let me say it was very challenging! Then we talked about our strengths and weaknesses when it comes to maintaining relationships. I stated that I have no strengths, quickly adding that I didn’t want this to turn into a “let’s make Lucy feel better by naming things that may or may not be true” session. I really don’t think I have any relationship skills. I’m loyal. Okay, but I’m so loyal that it’s to the point of being obsessive. So strike 1 against me. I’m willing to bend over backwards for someone. True, but I do it so much that eventually I lose the ability to say no to someone. Strike 2 against me. I help out any way I can. Yes, but I eventually start causing problems just so I can help someone out. Or I’ll help out in an area of their life where I really shouldn’t be helping. Strike 3, you’re out. Those were possibly 3 good things about my relationship skills. I do things to such an extreme though that any skill I have is turned into a problem. Montreal is a perfect example. I’m hiding from him. I’m so scared of having a positive relationship and someone who accepts me for who I am and actually likes me because of it that I constantly ignore him and come up with excuses as to why I can’t hang out. And he’s so understanding. It kind of aggravates me. I want him to be mad at me. I want him to get upset with me and see me the way I see me, even if that way is a little twisted. Okay, it’s so warped that I’m in therapy for it, but that’s not the point! The point is that when I have a healthy relationship sitting right in front of me, I run. I high-tail it out of there, leaving a cloud of dust in my wake. I don’t know what to do about it. Take my relationship with my parents. They’re really supportive and as my parents, are willing to do absolutely anything for me. I, despite all of this love and affection, feel like they would be better off without me. I feel like by killing myself, I would be doing them a favor. Another healthy relationship and I wring it and mess with it so much that it becomes warped. My loyalty becomes a problem in that I stay up with anxiety and irrational fear for 4 nights straight. I drive home from group at 80+ mph on the highway just to make sure they’re alive and well when I get home. I don’t know how to make it stop. I don’t know how to fix my relationships and I definitely don’t know how to start new ones. I have two girls in my Sociology class. They’re really nice, funny and they talk to me on a regular basis. I’d love to extend the courtesy some more and maybe go to lunch with them, or hang out with them outside of class but I don’t know how to do it without looking desperate. I don’t want to look like the 21-year old loser with no friends that I am. I just feel like I’m destined to be alone. I’m the cowboy whose deputies keep getting killed by rogue forces. I’m the sheriff in town, having to protect everyone, but forced to live a life of loneliness because of my job. I think I’ve been watching too many old westerns with my dad. I mean, my war references are bad enough, but cowboys? This is a new low. I’m not going to lie though, some of those cowboy flicks aren’t so bad. I think they’re starting to grow on me. Anyway, that was completely off topic! Like I was saying, I think part of me chooses to do this by myself as a measure of self-protection. I was so destroyed by Mara and other “friends” in my life, that I’ve become almost cynical. I don’t think anyone is capable of loving me. I’m not capable of loving me so how the hell would anyone else be? People don’t see me as an object of love, they see me as a doormat, someone they can use, manipulate and walk all over. And I almost set myself up to be seen that way. If I’m not being used as a doormat, people tell me I’m mean, stuck up and self-centered. Mara used to tell me that all the time: before we were friends, she thought I was a stuck-up bitch. I don’t mean to portray myself that way. And I think now that she’s out of my life, it’ll be a little easier to let the armor down. She was so hurtful and mean that I had to stay on the defensive all the time, which made me appear to be mean and hurtful. Really I was just protecting myself. Maybe I do have a shot then. Without that influence in my life, maybe I can make myself appear to be friendly and meet some new people. I’m not totally closed off to the idea of having friends, I just try to be realistic. I realistically believe that it’s not possible for me to have healthy relationships. And for the most part, history has proven me right.

Just a general update here. I wrote the top portion of this blog this morning, before Sociology. After writing it, I went home to get my flash drive so that I could work on my Medical Terms and Ethics homework but instead, I took a nap. Then, I had to go eat lunch before class, then actually go to class. Now I’m sitting in the public library, writing and avoiding my Medical Terms and Ethics homework still. I feel pretty crappy too. I really wanted to cut earlier, so badly that I had to call my mom to prevent it from happening. I’m totally addicted to cutting. I’m like a heroin addict. I’m just starting out though, so right now I can go a while between hits but I’ve noticed that the time is getting shorter and shorter. I last cut a week ago and now I want to do it again. I’ve run out of space on my right forearm so I think I’m going to do my left instead. It’ll be awkward since I’m left-handed but we’ll figure something out. I think I’m going to hide in the stacks and do it. I have to find somewhere to go, somewhere where people won’t see me. Didn’t you notice the subtle switch in language there? It went from “I wanted” to “I’m going to” very quickly. That’s how my thought process works. I’m stepping back and acknowledging that I have the urge to cut. Opposite action to the rescue! I’m going to do my Medical Terms and Ethics homework instead, I think, just to prevent myself from doing it. I can’t guarantee that I’ll win this particular battle, but the war isn’t over!

Fill ‘Er Up!

I never pegged myself to be the kind that would read self-help books. I always assumed that if someone needed help, well, they’d have to figure it out for themselves. I know, a little conceited. It’s as if I thought I was above those people. That I thought the help I received from my ever-supportive parents was simply warranted because I was me. They weren’t doing it for any other reason. Okay, that’s really conceited. But hey, we’ve already established that I’ve been through a little bit of a metamorphosis as of late, so the old me is dead and gone. The new me? Oh hell yea, she reads self-help books! She reads any and all she can get her hands on! No matter how corny, cheesy, or other food descriptions, she eats them up. Alright, I feel like Allister would tell me that by referring to myself in the third person I’m projecting or avoiding. So I read self-help books until the contents oozes out of my ears. I’m up to my eyeballs in books about success and healthy living. And I’ve actually learned something. The one book I’m reading called Take the Stairs by Rory Vaden is about the keys to unlocking success, not just in business and finance, but in life. And there are some great things in it. I was reading it today at lunch (at Panera, which was extra delicious in every way, thank you very much!) and he was talking about commitment. The only thing I’ve been truly committed to recently is my “road to recovery.” I feel like I’m stealing a line from the 12-step program when I say that, but that’s what it is. I’m trying to get better. Not just physically, but mentally too. I’m trying to be okay. I want to be okay. I have a right to be okay. Right? Ugh, see there goes the judgment, the second guessing, the weakness. That’s exactly what Mr. Vaden was saying. That if you’re going to get the baseball that was hit by your brother into the yard of the meanest, crankiest man on the block, you have to commit to it. There’s no second guessing, no wondering if your mom would simply buy you another ball. The stakes are high, yes, but that baseball is worth it. And well, I hit my baseball way over the fence these past few years. I hit a home run that would make Cal Ripken Jr. green with envy. But at what cost to myself? It’s been a rough-and-tumble ride, but I’ve held tight this long. I’m not letting go now. And I’ve committed to getting my ball from the other side of the fence. I’ve been trekking through weeds that are chest high and searching in the dark, but I’m trying to find that baseball, my health, my sanity and my peace of mind. By the way, this analogy isn’t mine, it’s Mr. Vaden’s. But it perfectly describes what I’m going through. This has been one of the hardest, if not the hardest, thing I’ve had to do in my short life. And I’m nowhere near finished. But DBT, Borderline, depression, you haven’t won. You haven’t beat me. Of course, this may all be a lack-of-sleep-induced surge of adrenaline, brought on by too much caffeine and sugar today. No! See, there I go again with the judgment and the doubt. It is so hard to catch myself doing that. But I’m trying. That’s all that matters.

Now that that’s been established, I thought I should give you an update on the front of my battle with my OCD and impulse control. I thought, after writing the entry last night, that I would finally fall asleep since my eyes were starting to droop. Nope. I actually stayed awake until 6:00 AM. I didn’t sleep a wink. Around 6:00, I got up and crawled into my dad’s space in my parents’ bed (he was already awake and downstairs) and slept for 20 precious minutes. And the only reason I think I got peace of mind to sleep then was because my parents were awake. My mom had just gotten up and like I said, Daddy and Thomas were already downstairs. If they’re awake, they can see their attacker and give me enough notice (i.e. screaming) to save them. I’m like the night watch at a museum, and my family is the precious art that evil people want to steal and destroy. I stay awake all night, watching the security cameras and twiddling my thumbs but once the museum is open again and there are witnesses, people who would notice if something were stolen or damaged, I can go home and catch a few Z’s before starting the vigilant watch all over again. And of course, that’s exactly how it happened. I slept for 20 minutes and woke up in a panic, afraid when I realized my mom wasn’t still next to me in bed. Then, almost instantly, she steps out of her closet and into her bathroom, where I had a clear view of her. Two arms, two legs, two eyes, one nose, one mouth and one body. She was perfectly fine. I could hear Thomas and Dad still downstairs so I knew they were okay. I got up, got dressed and headed off to school. The second I was out the door, I was rushing to my car. I had to get in and pray (several times), while headed to the bank, gas station and school. During class, I was zoned out, focused on what exactly my parents were doing at that exact moment, wondering every time Montreal text me, if it was an emergency dispatcher calling to break me the bad news. More prayers in the car, the elevator, the library, class. Lots of picking, which is highly upsetting since I managed to do without it for three whole days. Two of those nights I barely slept. I didn’t sleep at all last night, except for that 20 minutes. And the night before I was only sleeping for 20-minute intervals. I would fall asleep, realize what I’d done and stay up for an hour to both punish myself and make up for missed time. It’s amazing what your mind can do when it really wants to do something. Mine won’t let me rest. I haven’t had peace of mind (well, I actually haven’t had it for a long time but you know what I’m getting at), in like a week. I can’t keep running on high power. Eventually, I’m going to run out of gas and I don’t know what’s going to happen when I do. Right now, I’m doing okay. Typing this has me shaking from head to toe, and wondering of course what my parents are doing and if everything’s alright. I’ve got a million scenarios running through my head about Thomas since he never text me back. Oh, and to top it all off, when I cut last week to act as a sacrificial lamb, well I think those cuts are getting infected. I’ve had my self-injuries get infected before. I’ve endured the “how did it happen?” looks the doctors and nurses give you as you’re getting cleaned up. I don’t like it, but I’m not concerned about that right now. What concerns me is what my parents are going to say. I was driving and my arm started to really, deeply hurt and of course, my mind spins off 100 different scenarios, all of them ending in a horrible way. Maybe I’ll talk to Skye about it. I mean, she’s a third party affiliate without any personal gain or interest in the matter. Of course, Allister is an option too. But I see Skye today. I don’t know. We’ll work something out. Hopefully. Because I’m running on empty and let’s face it, slightly desperate. It’s that moment when you’re driving and you’re low on gas. Everything’s okay until the gas tank light comes on. That little icon (it’s orange in my car) just put your situation from relatively okay to extremely dangerous with the flip of a single switch. My gas light just came on and I’m nowhere near a WaWa. Now what?


I’m slipping a little here. It’s been 5 days since my last post and that’s one too many. It’s 12:36 on October 17th. That’s AM, by the way, as in it’s dark outside and everyone (including the dog) is asleep. Why, you might be wondering to yourself, is Lucy still awake? I’m not allowed to sleep. I know, that sounds extra strange but it’ll all become clear in a few minutes. Over the past few days, I’ve had more than one anxiety attack. It’s been steadily popping Ativan and Risperdal just to make it through the day. I can’t take much more of this. And the scary part is, I know it can get worse. I know it will get worse, if I don’t do something about it. But I don’t know what there is it do. If I tell Dr. Ordella (who I see Thursday) she’s just going to tell me to go to the hospital. That was the issue 2 weeks ago. Going is not going to be beneficial to me. They teach you the same thing over and over again, and I’ve learned that lesson 3 times. Okay, let me explain why exactly I can’t sleep. The irrational, screaming part of my brain swears up and down that if I don’t do things exactly the way I’m supposed to (following impulses) that something bad is going to happen to my parents or to Thomas. I don’t know how to make it stop. I feel like even now, me staying up is vital to their survival. I know God has us all in his sights and that we are protected in His holy name. I know and truly believe that. But the OCD side of me, the sick part, believes that I can make God’s job a little easier by doing these rituals. And it’s anything that comes to mind. Praying in the shower, praying in the car, repeating words or phrases hundreds of times, tapping things, touching things, whatever. So now you know my dirty little secret. I’ve been trying to think of a way to break it to Allister. I’ve been using the skills as best I can but these impulses seem to override everything else. I even cut the other day. I’ve been lying to my parents about it. I’m ashamed. Just like I am with this disease. Casey, a girl from my Info Science (computer) class, saw my anxiety pills in the car and asked why I was taking medication. She wasn’t being overly-nosy or rude, just curious. I lied and said they were pain pills and proceeded to tell her about my RSD. Not a complete lie since I really have RSD, but that was a perfect opportunity to tell someone, anyone, that I had a problem, but I failed. I ducked out the back exit and ran from the chance. I’ve been wearing long sleeves around people and twisting my arm so that my scars/cuts won’t show. I’ve been carefully planning my outfits each day so that its guaranteed that my arms are covered. Every second of every day, I feel like a robber with a gun, a fire, a flood, or a medical accident is going to claim the lives of my loved ones. Yesterday, I had to come home from school just to make sure, and see with my own eyes, that Daddy was okay and alive. I don’t know how to make the fear stop. It’s crushing, like impossibly gripping. It’s got me in its claws. I’ve been ignoring Montreal. I feel guilty that my scope of fear and worry isn’t big enough to include him. Even writing that, I’m scared he’s going to see it and hate me. I know, rationally, that it’s not true. But do people usually listen to the calm, rational side when they’re scared? No, they listen to whatever is causing them to be afraid. He just called me and I ignored it. It’s now 1:13 AM. I know, I’m typing slow. I’m tired now, like my eyes are starting to droop but I can’t fall asleep. I’m sitting up and I’m outside the covers just to be sure it doesn’t happen. This isn’t going to last. People can only run on so little sleep for so long. It’s been 2 nights since I’ve slept. Well, last night I slept a little bit; it was intermittent. And every time I would wake up, I would stay awake for another hour or so as retribution for falling asleep. I told Allister, I am the buffer between my family and death. I am . There’s no other way to put it. Like if I committed suicide, my family would fall apart. Not out of grief or anything, no I totally believe that they’re still better off without me  (but just blind to it), but because if I die, something will happen to them. I just don’t know how to explain it. Poco’s upset with me for still being awake. He keeps kicking me. Sorry, Poc. I don’t know what else there is to say anymore. I would say I’m going to bed, but I’m not. So…um, goodnight, I guess.