Wednesday, 22 March 2017

I'm unhappy.

I'm doing everything. Everything that might need doing. Apart from sorting out the shares situation. Other than that, I'm being more productive than you might think possible. And then I stop and the voice inside starts screaming into the abyss and if I don't start again it becomes unbearable. So I start and go and go and go until I can't and then the screaming starts and I have to keep going to get away and I can't

I just can't

It should be so easy. How hard can it be to stop? But there's no off button. It's go. Always go. Always on. Be the best, do your best, fix everything, make it better and for God's sake don't let it get you down because then you fall in.

And how bad would that really be? Well, I don't know, but I know my survival instinct and that is what is making me go. I'm guessing it would be bad to ignore that.

I don't know if it's the worst part, or even if it's possible to rate things from best to worst any more, but there is something I'm becoming more aware of and I don't enjoy it. I'm either really *really* violently intense emotions, or nothing at all. I can simulate stuff - you know, in a conversation I can laugh and cry and chatter and be silly, but when I walk away I'm completely untouched. And then I start with the emotions and it's jaw achingly intense. I hurt. I cry. I feel intense... like *super* intense pride and self justification.  I just used intense three times in two sentences (4 in 3) and I think that's fairly indicative.

Right now I'm emotional (writing triggers it) and all I can say

All I can say

With all of these words at my disposal...

I'm so unbelievably unhappy. Not sad. Well, yes, sad. But sad about things. Not overwhelming sadness. Overwhelming unhappiness. And I feel like if I just do enough stuff maybe I get to be happy again. And now I'm sobbing at work because I know I'll never ever ever be happy again. Which is illogical. It can't be true. But it's all I feel.

I can't fix me. I didn't get the manual.

Thursday, 16 March 2017

Getting there

I'm exhausted all the time. Last night I ploughed through a whole pile of official paperwork I should have done ages ago and posted it off today. I missed dinner and was exhausted after a long day. Today I'm determined to get my gym induction done. I'm still exhausted but I feel obliged to.

Get it done now.

I guess the subtext is: While you still have time.

I hope everything comes through ok. I'm currently finding it difficult to keep wading on through. The world feels thicker than normal and days are putting up more resistance.

Need to exercise more, eat more healthily and be creative while still excelling at my job and supporting my family as much as I can.

Some things are their own reward, so I don't include them (I've been puzzling and reading *hard* lately, but some people consider those "brain training") and of course catching up on TV when all else is done.

But right now, I need to go excel at work.


Wednesday, 8 March 2017

It's going to hurt

I've been off work for over a month. I had 2.5 weeks of sick leave, then turned up for Thursday and Friday during half term (at which point it was impossible for me to do more than check my emails - seriously; my team were all away and I was afraid of starting anything major because I knew I'd have to leave soon) and mid Friday afternoon I got the message.

I disappeared for another two weeks.

And now I'm here and I'm almost up to date with what my team are doing and the college are doing and my external projects and there's some part of me that's standing back screaming "I'm not ready! I don't want to do this! It's going to hurt!"

And today? Today, that part is in charge.

It's going to hurt and I'm not ready for more pain.

I'm not sure I have another option.


Saturday, 25 February 2017

It happened

The day after my last post, hurting heart, I lost my dad.

I've been with my family since and it's funny it didn't feel real. At all.

Last time I saw him he rushed downstairs without his stick because he thought I was going to leave without saying goodbye. I told him off.

A week later he was bedridden.

A week after that his mum said goodbye.

5 days after that, the day before I was due to see him and two days before his own siblings were due to say goodbye, he was gone.

I totally got the best out of all of this.

I got to spend a week with him (I had an abscess and couldn't travel) when it should only have been a weekend. I only remember him as upright and smiling. I didn't see him fade away, although I saw him getting shakier and falling, so I knew it was coming. And he wrote me the letter I begged him for.

I haven't read that letter yet.

We went to see him yesterday, laid out in the chapel of rest.

I was scared. So scared. I spent so much time not believing it - thinking he was away on a marking trip or off on holiday with one of his friends. I thought it was all a bad, bad joke. I thought seeing him would force me to believe it.

And it did.

And didn't.

He looked like he was pretending to be asleep. He looked like he was on the verge of smiling; as though he'd gotten the joke before any of us. I told him a whole bunch of stuff. I waited for him to look at me with that expression that says "now you're just being silly."

It didn't happen. So I told him the stuff I thought he'd want to know about, like who was coming to see him and the flowers and inconsequential things. And when I planned to read the letter.

I touched his sleeve and his jacket lapel and it felt like he'd been outside in winter. I told him more stuff and then I kissed his forehead and that was when I knew he'd never answer back.

But dammit, I'm going to keep talking.

Thursday, 16 February 2017

My hurting heart

My heart hurts
I don't want to let it
I want to hold it in submission
It should only be a muscle
flexing inexorably
shunting blood through my body

But when I think
When  I stop to reflect
It seizes.

No longer a gelatinous thumping mass
a walnut, hard and shrunken
All of a sudden

That feeling of hollow emptiness where it should reside
Painful tension where it it too small to function
Dry pain where every beat is an effort

All of a sudden

It hurts, my heart.
It is crying out in pain
Because it does not want to let you go.

And so I
To avoid the hurting heart
Live like I'm not losing you
I wake up and go to work
I chat about my holiday
I let time pass unmarked
Knowing that, despite this
the countdown keeps ticking
until the day
my hurting heart can no longer be suppressed

Current mental state

I overcame a big barrier last night. I lay awake thinking about what's going to happen and I *knew* incontrovertibly, without ever having considered it before that the reason I'm moving, putting one foot in front of the other and keeping on keeping on, is because I don't want to acknowledge it.
I don't.
I will. Occasionally I do, as with last night, for brief periods of time. But not properly, not for long enough.

I am deep in denial and the only way out looks hella painful.


Friday, 20 January 2017

Fuck you fucking fucks

I'm fine. I just want to be angry.

Not "I'm angry and choosing fucking fucks as my target". Simply; I'm not angry. I want to be angry. I want to be past this sense of numbing inevitability that tells me no matter what I do or how I try day by day the world is going to get worse and closer to being the worst it's ever been until the day I wake up and my Dad is dead and I've lost the chance to be angry enough to find new ways to fight.

I want to be angry and useful and instead I'm just sat here dripping.

Fucking fucks.