This is part of why it's being so hard to cope with things; it all just adds up, and like now, it hits me when I'm not expecting it, not prepared for it. I'd gone in to see if she had plenty of food and water, lifted up the little house to check on the babies that were there a day or two ago...

...and they're gone.

I...

I just didn't need this. We'd been waiting for so long, and they were so tiny... and poor Clove is all shook up, she's jumpy and hand-shy, it's obvious she's miserable. I can't even do anything about it, even if I do move her into the closet it'll still be all banging for days and days. She's terrified, and I totally don't blame her.

It's making me want to cry. I was so happy, good movie, hamsters... and this feels like I've just been run over. Fucking stupid mood swings, how am I supposed to stay sane and wanting-to-be-here if every other hour I go from joy to utter misery? It's overreacting, don't think I don't know that, I KNOW these mood shifts are extreme, unnecessary, I just don't know how to turn them OFF. Gonna have to find a way to see a psychologist soon.

I know what I need, to get through this patch, to be ok for a while. I know what I need, and I know that no matter how many times I order, or ask, or even beg, I won't get it. I've had my nose rubbed in that too many times to even bring it up again other than here, vaguely. At least this way I can't be hurt.

Well, can't be hurt as much.

Funny thing, want to know why it's that way? Because I started needing it. Don't think for a moment I don't see that ugly pattern. And y'know, fuck vague, I've been wanting to rant about this for a while. It IS a pattern. The moment he realizes someone other than his blood kin actually needs him, he starts finding reasons to push them away, make the relationship fall apart, or outright abandons them. The reason this is so fucking ridiculous is that he says, all the time, that he needs to be needed.

No, he doesn't. He needs to be wanted but he's terrified of being needed. He can't stand being responsible for anyone other than himself; he knows his brother and mother can lean on one another and he's finally starting to figure out that his father's a waste of oxygen, and while he loves to feel wanted, to be the go-to guy, the minute it turns into something important, necessary, NEEDED... yeah. Out the door he goes. He's done it to Rachel, he's done it to Mia, he's done it to every woman he's been with in the last few years, and he's doing it to me.

He plays power games. He wants his kicks with no strings attached. He bounces from one fucktoy to the next, he never quite manages to stabilize himself long enough to do anything important... the only things he's held together for long are fighting, internet games, and the army.

The banging is aweful now, it's right outside the windows. It's like we have no insulation at all, the sound just carries. I don't blame Clove at all.

Don't get me wrong, it's not like he's abandoned me. *wry grin* He's there, in at least some ways. He's still... quite useful.

It's just getting gradually back to the point where that's all he is. Maybe that's a good thing. Gods know it gets me off at times. Still, it frustrates me. That whole 'not having a man in my life' thing is decidedly not making me happy, but there's nothing practical to do about it right now and doing any of the impractical but still possible things would be a Very Bad Idea.

Ehh.

Writing this out has helped; I'm a bit less tense, a bit less sad, a bit less annoyed. I'm still getting the sensations of a developing migrane from the banging though, I'm going to have to do something about that before it gets worse...

...oh gods. The workers are talking, loudly, in spanish. Yep. Can't possibly hire people who, y'know, speak english as their main language. Nope, gotta hire people who (and this is speaking from the vantage point of SEVERAL attempts at communication, not just this overheard stuff) couldn't speak english if you hit them over the head with a dictionary for a year. Prejudiced? Maybe a bit, yeah... but ask any stripper, any waitress, any librarian, any porn store clerk or phone representative, Mexican men are the scum of the earth. They don't tip, they don't listen, they think it's ok to grab any woman with tits larger than zits, they'll insult people in spanish if they think they can get away with it, they're rude, they're greedy, they're dirty... the prejudice is based on actual behavior, there's a reason for it. It's not like we all woke up one day and randomly decided to hate them. They just make such a poor showing, so often, that it's hard not to instinctively avoid them.

I grew up being told that all races were equal... or more precisely, having it assumed around me that everyone knew that, so it didn't even need to be said more than once or twice. I learned this particular prejudice, from personal experience, from the experiences of friends, and from the experiences I've read about in places like the 'customers suck', 'bad service', and 'co-workers suck' livejournals. I don't avoid the black parts of town, hell, I rather like them. Damn good food. But I'll avoid the hispanic sections like my life depends on it, because it quite possibly does.

It's 9:20 now, I started typing this all out just before nine... Cate should be getting up soon. Gonna find appropriate painkillers for this now-here headache before it gets worse.

If I spot Nutmeg running around I'm going to pop him back in with Clove; that or let her run around with him. Whatever seems to make them happier. The workers seem to only be on the front side of the building today, so maybe Cate and I will move all the animal cages to our bedroom.

Also, it refused to post this once, and seems to have added backslashes before every ' mark for no apparent reason, but fuckit, I'm posting anyway.