There must be something about extraordinary grief, frustration, anger, and self-pity that makes me knit like a train.
I mean that in the “speedy” sense, not the “steam engine whistle” sense. What?
I’ve been knitting a lot. A LOT. An almost absurd amount. I keep starting things and needing to knit and feel a sense of accomplishment, because it feels a lot like the rest of my world has been crushed like a can and there’s nothing I can do about it but knit. I feel trapped inside my own head, with all my ugly, angry, pathetic thoughts, and sometimes knitting helps, and sometimes it sticks me back in there as I stare at my hands.
I really miss my dad (he’s probably reading, hi dad!). He’s staying at my aunt’s house while they are in Australia, and taking care of their dog, and not getting up at 5am to drive an hour to get to work. He comes home on weekends, and it sucks. I really miss him, because everything is in upheaval and my mom works late one night a week and goes out another night, and I just haven’t been getting the attention I want. Maybe that’s selfish; it’s been all about me and crying and my pitiful self for the last six weeks, but my mom, I think, pays more attention to my (younger) sister than to me. She assumes I can take care of myself, and that’s true most of the time, but having my dad around means the attention is more evened out. I guess I’m tired of (or annoyed by) taking care of myself: I want someone to take care of me!
Since J and I broke up (cheating fucker) I’ve felt really lonely and lost. It’s getting better, I guess, but I’m hoping this is the depression stage so that I can move maybe on into acceptance. I saw a picture of him and his new little whore the other night, and I just lost it. I really hate thinking about him, and everything we did, and everything we had, and what I shoulda-woulda-coulda done, and blah blah blah bullshit.
I think knitting is helping. I guess knitting is helping. It feels like the one stable thing I can hold on to is my own knitting skillz, and that’s made me knit a bit like a madwoman. I’ve finished three things in March already– the Elefante, the hat, and now my Firestarters– and I can’t help myself. I keep starting things and knitting and being a bit insane.
I’m also spreading the bug. Molly came by Lovelyarns on Saturday and bought some bulky alpaca for her second scarf. I’m going to teach her how to do ribbing. Franny hasn’t been coming to knitting at lunch lately, but she’s got things to do I imagine. Julie picked knitting up again and told me a number of times how funny it was and hahaha she was doing it as her action for “old people” in acting class. I was like, Julie, hello, knitting isn’t just for your grandmother anymore, and she said, “Oh I knit her a scarf once!” Then in Physics she wouldn’t shut her mouth about how boring it was, and I was quite short tempered. STFU.
I miss my dad. I miss my shitty ex’s attention. He’s in town for his spring break (after spending the weekend boning his slut) and it’s the first time in two years that his being on break isn’t about us being together. It fucking sucks.
I want to knit selfishly and do nothing else. I want to work full time on my senior project. I started carding today and it was pretty sweet, although now my hands are tired. I have a long road ahead of me in the carding department.
Dude, I was totally going to post about my Firestarter socks that I finished this evening, but I obviously had other things on my brain.
I miss my dad.
