St David's Day
Today would have been my 14th wedding anniversary, but seeing as I’m divorced now, it’s just St David’s Day. It’ll still evoke special memories in me, they’ll just be a little more wistful.
Instead of flowers, dinner and an amazing night of snugly ohing and ahing, I went to see the doctors.
I’ve been putting it off, knowing that I was getting worse and knowing that I’d inevitably walk out with a prescription for mind altering drugs and a suggestion to see a counsellor. I was right. But I know I’ve reached a point where I need the help.
These are a few things I know to watch;
Anger. It’s much worse than it’s been in a very long while. Frankly, I want to tell everyone to just f*ck off then go and hide in a hole.
Sleep. I sleep like a cat, but wake up tired after my dreams have been invaded by nastiness. No frolicking in lush green meadows with the man of my dreams at the moment.
Motivation. I’m sorry you want me to do what? I can’t be arsed to get showered or dressed at the weekend let alone leave the house if I don’t HAVE to.
Motorbike. I’m avoiding it. I very nearly sold it at a loss the other day.
Food. I starving all the time, but don’t want to eat. Once I start eating I can’t stop.
Concentration. How many times did I wash my face in the shower this morning because I’d forgotten I just done it?
Writing. I haven't done any for ages unless I'm complaining or griping about something. I'm not really a miserable git, but I'm sure some think I am. Consider this exhibit A.
Of course there are still those that ask me for help, even though I’ve attempted to retreat into the pit of despair that is my life at present. I’ve stopped going out even though I have a couple of fellas trying to court (I use that word because date seems odd). I’m wrong at the moment. I’m up for a bit, then down as low as can be.
Dr Rosemary says I need to be less stoic, ‘it’s a very British mentality’.
I freaking out about how the bills are going to be paid. I need to get a housemate, but despite a lovely spare room and over 100 views on the advert I’ve had no enquiries. My mental health is slipping into disrepair along with my kidneys.
I’ve been here before and I survived. Actually I’ve been here a couple of times in the last few years. I bounce back, but as a friend said the other day, ‘I’m just not sure how many bounces I have left in me’.
I can’t help thinking; while Africa was a great adventure, I would have been better staying at home.
I can’t help thinking; if I’d never have left my husband, I’d be financially OK?
I can’t help thinking; what’s going to happen to me, am I going to die alone, broke and eaten by cats?
I can’t help thinking; would anyone really miss me?
1 comment:
Well… ok. I always thought that we need to have some down times because if it we only had ‘good’ times how would we know how good we have it (hope that makes sense). Obviously your downs are very down, but your highs are very high too. I have never met anyone like you who is able to set yourself goals/dreams and strive to attain that dream – you excel at it! If you had stayed married you would both be miserable now (admit it), and if you hadn’t gone to Africa you would have always wondered ‘what if’.
You said it yourself, you have been here before and managed to get out – and you know you can do that again. Your financial problems will get better, you have a ‘real’ job now, and although it’s a struggle at the moment it’s nothing you can’t handle. You need another dream – you have accomplished most of what you have set out to do and you’re at a loose end.
I could make heaps of suggestions but I can’t fix you – you’re not broken, just down. Start climbing out, even if it’s one step at a time. You have enough bounce to get up there…
btw - unless you now feel like telling me to f**k off and myob, I will be in town next week, do you still want mexican?
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