Touchdown

Sunday morning, and finally I feel a bit calmer.

Yesterday was appalling. I took four Librium and I still couldn't talk in complete sentences. We went to church but that didn't help. I even sat in a quiet room and tried to do some sewing -- me! sewing! -- but I was just too agitated.

But this morning I feel a bit better.

* * *

I've been texting with he who left me for a few days or so now.
It's been going ok.
I'm not sure why that is. I have a feeling its all the drugs I'm on. Comfortably numb.
I worry when we're getting on ok though, that I'll forget all the things he did to hurt me, and that he'll just get away with it.

Maybe that's why I'm agitated -- all that injustice looming.

On the one hand my head says to me that if I can forget them that easily then they couldn't have been that bad, so maybe I should just drop it. But on the other hand I know what he did was awful. My children know it. He knows it. We can't ever really get on until we clear the air properly, because it's always going to be lurking there at the back of my mind.

There are too many things lurking there already.
I don't need anymore.

* * *

My nails look nice.

* * *

We're supposed to be going to a drive-in movie tonight.
I hope it doesn't rain.

Brain drain

Not much blogging from me lately -- my head is all over the place.

Friend's daughter is very negative. That's not a criticism, it's just the way she is. But I find that sort of person quite difficult. My mum is like it, and my brother. But generally I don't think I am, and my dad wasn't, when he was around. It makes me feel like it's my job to put everything right, which is simply an impossible task, so it leaves me feeling like a failure.

Texting with he who left is moving on apace. I'm still not sure if that's a good thing or a bad thing. That's partly down to the way my head is at the moment -- I keep forgetting my point (if I ever had one) so it makes conceptualizing consequences almost impossible. It's definitely a chemical/brain thing going on -- whatever it is, it's the same thing that sorts out libido. That's going crazy at the moment, which is inconvenient to say the least.
Not to mention pointless.

Another seven hour drive starts in about 2 hours. That should be mind-numbing enough to sort out most things :-/

Monday's child

Number two daughter has just gone off to summer school. Suffice to say her first solo trip on a bus involved number one daughter running down to the seafront in her pyjamas.
I keep telling myself that it's all part of growing up.
Well, it is if you're daft as a hairbrush with the memory of a goldfish (God Bless number two daughter).

I've had a dodgy couple of days. Very jumpy, very tearful, but very hard to get going. It's not much fun. I've managed it with Librium and sleeping pills and diet coke, which is good. Six months ago it would have been completely unmanageable, so I'm definitely doing better.
It's a very strange feeling, this jumpiness. It's like someone standing just behind your shoulder but then every time you turn around to look at them, they've gone.
It's very disturbing.

Number one daughter had a birthday on Saturday and that was hard going.
She didn't know if it would be best to hear from her dad or not.
In the end it was not; he didn't send a card or anything, and she was very upset. The situation was made more difficult by the fact my friend's daughter (who is staying with us) lost her dad (my friend) six months ago.
No wonder I've been a bit wobbly.

Number one daughter is hard on herself -- she blames herself for the fact men leave and then never speak to her again, her dad and he who left me being the main players at the moment.
They both made a lot of promises to her personally which they never kept, and she finds that hard.
I keep telling her -- it was me they left, not her -- but those promises make it hard for her to believe me. Or moreover -- she accepts that they left me, but doesn't see why they had to then treat her the same way; she is not me.
I don't know the answer to that either.

Church on Saturday was ok but dull. No massive inspiration from the great beyond.
Still waiting for Him to send me the lottery numbers.
But maybe He did help me with the crossword.
It's the first time I've had a go at one since he who left me left, and I only have one clue to solve:
Fellow at location of an eruption?
I think the answer is something spot. Heatspot? Is that a word?
I don't know, but it's certainly an improvement.

Heat strokes

I drove for 7 hours yesterday and narrowly missed two major motorway accidents. I always find that sobering.

I was going to pick up a friend's daughter, who has come for a holiday. She's just 16, as is my eldest.
Strange to see signs of self-harm on her arms and to find it so shocking, and yet to accept it as everyday on myself.
I haven't decided if/when/how I should talk to her about it yet.

Still hot here.

£850 gas and electric bill. I'm paranoid about every light we leave on now, every tiny bit of fuel we might be wasting.

I'm very teary. Just want to cry all the time. It's definitely not pmt this time. It's just stress, I think. And heat and tiredness and just not sure what's going on-ness.

Today...

... was better.

Daughter number one and I went out for breakfast and then we went shopping, which always makes me smile.
I bought nail polish.
Buying polish for my newly grown nails is very fine.

I had a lot of caffeine today (Ooo! Starbucks freezy coffee is yummy in this heat!), and that seems to help at the moment. Of course, I might regret it tonight, but then I don't think my nights could get any more odd if they tried; last night I had to present written arguments to the judge as to why I felt it necessary to bring my toothbrush into court.

Some text with he who left me. I still don't know if it's a good idea.
The jury is still out on that one.
I hope they have their toothbrushes.

I'm having...

... a shit day.

Everything is going at a million miles an hour.
I can't get that dream out of my head.

He who left me says he just forgot I'd asked the question, but everything feels loaded to me. Everything feels as if it means so much.
I would take half a sleeping pill, but I'll fall asleep.
Although why I want to stay awake is beyond me.

It's days like this I want to be in hospital.
I want to be somewhere safe.
The whole world is so fucking scary. I can't do anything right.

I want it all to go away.

Haircut, Sir?

Hey

We were talking (texting) about the weather. That seemed to be going ok.
Then all I did was ask if he'd had a haircut -- on account of the heat, that's all.
And I could feel him clamming up.

I didn't mean anything by it; it was just a question, out of interest.
But it was too personal, so he changed the subject -- what did I think of the Davinci Code film?

I left the conversation.

Really, if all we can talk about is the weather, why do we bother?

* * *

Really bad dream this morning, about a friend of mine who died. It wasn't horrific, just sad.
I woke up crying.
I hate those.

* * *

Serious dose of caffeine in the morning does seem to help get things going. I had worked so hard on giving it up -- no coffee, no coke, no lucozade -- but now it seems that its a good idea. In moderation.
Isn't that always the way?

Breathing

I'd forgotten for a while there how to breathe.

Today I breathed again, and I feel human again
(I also had a huge caffeine input whereas I normally have none - this may have had something to do with my super-whizzy okey-dokey mode).

My neck doesn't hurt when I try and turn my head.
I did a project for my son on Armadillos in about 40 minutes. It's due in tomorrow and normally I'd just make him hand in some half-arsed effort that he'd thrown together himself. This time I did the paperwork but I still made him learn all the stuff -- did you know an armadillo can hold it's breath for six minutes? You do now.
I tidied up, and got rid of all the piles of crap that have been accumulating around the lounge. Yes, I just moved the piles to other rooms, but at least I don't have to look at them (except for the ones that are now in my room).

And I had a half decent text exchange with he who left me.
I wasn't expecting it.
I was, as I have been so many times before, ready to walk away.
I was sorry that I sent him a message on Friday, having realised that if I hadn't then he never would have contacted me. So I sent him a message to say as much. He said he was pleased I had texted.
Anyhow, the long and the short of it is that we exchanged messages without an argument ensuing.
I have to word them very carefully -- if the boys ego was any more fragile he'd be a... well, a boy. But I managed it and we got there.
The hardest bit is when he asked how we all are.

What can I say?

Number one daughter is defensive, friendless and won't go out without me. She hates men, swears shes going to be a lesbian and blames herself for letting him move in.
My son doesn't sleep. Last night I came out of the kitchen at midnight to see his legs dangling over the banister. I thought he'd hung himself. Turns out he'd been sitting there for ages, just listening to me. His ocd is getting worse, his food intake more bizarre. Now he says he cant eat anything until he's 'processed' it. This means inspecting it, literally, a grain of rice at a time. Dinner takes ages.
Number two daughter has just retreated into her own world. She stays in her room mainly, or collects snails in the yard. Usually the only person she talks to is herself. Today she came in crying because the kids on the bus had been bullying her.
And my cat is now incontinent.

We're fine, I said.

Where have you gone, Joe DiMaggio?

This (Sunday) was the worst day I've had in months.

Two sleeping pills and half a dozen Librium and I still spent most of it bouncing off the walls.
The rest was spent crying in bed.

I'm not stupid -- I know it's not a coincidence that yesterday was the first time I'd had contact with he who left me in a month. I know I shouldn't have done it.

But I thought if he still loved me (as he has always said he does) he would be pleased to hear from me. I thought he might be just a bit sorry for the mess he left me in. I thought he might want to find a way forward, so that we could be friends, or something.
I thought he might at least offer to pay back some of the money he owes me or take his fucking stuff away.

But no.
Yesterday ended on the usual 'shut up and fuck off' text, and today, nothing.

I know he's ill, and I know it's a big deal.

Actually, I don't know anything.
I guess cutting me out is what he always did. It just hurts more now because we've been so close.

Daughter number one is resisting the urge to say 'I told you so,' just about. Unfortunately I can't be so gentle on myself.

But this isn't the Andrew Daniell I fell in love with. That one was gentle, and sweet, and cared.
Or maybe he was just a better actor than this one is.
I don't know any more.

I feel like shit. I have a really bad urge to hurt myself, so I'm just going to take more pills, go to bed, and pray it goes away.

Mea Culpa

Well, I finally did it.

I sent him a text: I miss you. xx

We exchanged a few texts -- pleasantries, more or less.
He says he can't talk (text) right now because he's hyper, in a bad sort of way.
I never did really understand what that meant.

Do I feel better for it, or worse?
Hard to say at the moment.
I certainly feel something -- I cried a lot this afternoon.
He's ill -- he says they are doing tests. I want him to be well.
I feel like I want to hold him, and stroke his ears (he liked that) and tell him everything will be ok. But somewhere at the back of my head a little voice is asking who is going to hold me? Who is going to stroke my ears?
And how much more am I going to get hurt?

It's evening...

...that always seems to be the hardest.
I'm ok until about 5ish, and then I really feel it.
I took Librium every three hours tonight but I'm still wound up like a top. I haven't taken any Trazodone yet because I want to write, but it really is hard going.
Having the kids home all summer is going to be hard work if I'm as tense as this.
Number two daughter is on a Gifted and Talented summer school thing for the first week, which she is looking forward to. But number one daughter is already 'bored' so that's going to be a trial, especially if I can't leave the house.

I shall be counting the days until September.

I didn't realise the sunset would be so hard.
We used to walk down to the sea, to watch the sun go down, almost every night.
Now, as soon as I see the sky turning that pinky colour that means it's on it's way, I start feeling sick.
At the moment I don't think I'll ever be able to watch it again.

Event Horizon

We went to the psychic event. It was kind of an all day thing.
By the end of it we were all psychicked out.
It was pretty good - lots of messages, some insight, some stuff I already knew but was trying to ignore. Some rubbish. But it was ok, and it got me out of the house.

* * *
We finally got registered with an NHS dentist. Appointments in August.
I've never been so happy about the prospect of seeing a dentist.

* * *
I'm still sleeping 12 hours a day, and am sluggish for the other 12. It's not ideal.
The good news is that for the first time in my life I have spontaneously stopped biting my nails. Looks like all those side effects, the constant drowsiness and the total lack of life was worth it after all.

Blogs of note

Hey

Not much blogging of any note from me lately (ever?).
I've been really jumpy, and not able to concentrate much -- aside from the stories I've submitted.

I watched a new candy-floss tv programme last night, The Ghost Whisperer. Not for the beginningless talent of Jennifer Love Hewitt (although the guy from Prison Break was quite cute...), but just for interest's sake.
I ended up bawling my eyes out.
I think that getting a message from my dad affected me more than I realised.

That said, daughter number one and I are going to a psychic event this afternoon.
Watch this space.

* * *
Apart from the jumpiness, original pill plan seems to be working better. The nerves might just be pms, and if that's as bad as it gets then I've done well. Hell, if I get through a month without blood-letting, hair-pulling and howling at the moon, I've done well.

* * *
I still can't believe that he who left me never even said goodbye.

How come...

...I remember what he looks like when I'm dreaming, but not when I'm awake?

Moonshadow

Hey,
It's been a long day.

Number one daughter had a taster day at a college she hated.
She still stuck it out though.
She's tough like that.
But I'm worried about September. I want her to fit in somewhere, and to make friends.
I don't want her to end up like me.

I read a lot today, and wrote a lot, and had stomach cramps.
We haven't got any food so I need to get to a shop or get some delivered.
I need to hoover, and I don't remember the last time the house saw a duster.
Everything is a bit disorganised at the moment. Maybe it's just the end of term.

On the other hand, the full moon is in 4 hours and 15 minutes.
Maybe that's what it is.

I wish this blog had little mood and music icons that told the reader how I felt and what I was listening to.
If I had any sort of brain I'd add them to the template, but I don't know how.
Just for the record: hazy, and Cat Stevens.

Sunday Afternoon

Things are a bit brighter today.
Not the weather -- it's absolutely pouring down -- but in my head.

I got a message from my late father last night.
Nuts, I hear you cry. But in actual fact going to a Spiritualist Church is about the sanest thing in my life at the moment.
It was nice to hear from my dad.
I know it was my dad.
It wasn't a sentimental hugs and flowers message.
It was my dad; the funny rattling noise on the car needs to be checked out, and the thing doesn't run on air -- put some oil and water in it occasionally.
Thanks dad.

I'll be booking my car into a garage very soon.

Why do I do it?

Really, why do I do it?

I get all worried about him. I start imagining that something terrible has happened and he's upset or hurt or something. And I hate that, because I love him.

But no.
He's happily updating his little site with more jolly football banter and writing news.

He's absolutely fine.
He just doesn't give a fuck.

When will I learn?

All's fair.

Tonight I came the closest I've been to texting him.
I wanted to tell him I miss him, and I hope he's ok, and I love him.

I didn't do it, but the pain of this grief is unbearable.

I know it will pass, it always does.
But at the moment it is overwhelming.

* * *

I talked to psych lady about things that affect my mood -- the things that bring me crashing down.
Injustice is one of those things.

'Life isn't fair,' she said to me.

I know that.
But I still can't handle it.
That's why I'm being treated for a personality disorder and most everyone else isn't.

Oh so quiet

I'm on my own today, and it's spookily quiet.
Good quiet.

Having three kids around is a noisy business.

It's hard to admit, but I found it difficult being with he who left me when the kids were there. Things were always gentler, easier, when they were out or away.

We didn't have enough time on our own in the beginning, when things were really good, to really get things sorted and get a good base for when things got rockier, I think.
When people first meet, it's often before they have kids, or away from the kids, but we were always all together.

I found it difficult so I know he must have done -- and he said as much.

When he first left part of me thought that it was only temporary.
My kids are getting older -- one has already left school.
I thought when it was quieter, he would come back.

But I was kidding myself.

It was me he left, not them.

Raining again

Its raining here now, even though its still heatwave hot.
It smelt like there would be a thunderstorm earlier, but it hasn't come yet.

I saw psych lady today. I'm back on my pills as I was before -- two at night, and one in the morning. She said I'm markedly worse this time than when she saw me last, so we're going back to what works.
I didn't argue with her -- my paranoia has been worse too (people hiding things from me, deliberately trying to upset me etc).
We talked about the fact I'll sleep more in the day. As she said, its not like I have to be anywhere, and the most important thing is getting my mood straight.

We talked a bit about he who left me.
She asked me how I felt about him.
I told her I loved him, and then I started to cry.
I cried because I was angry at myself, for being so stupid, for believing that he could ever have loved me.
I must be very stupid, to have believed that.

And then the time was up.

Code Red

We went to see the Da Vinci Code tonight.
It was tedious. It suffered, as he who left me would say, from rinky-dink syndrome. It just never knew when to stop.
But then neither did the book.
The thing I thought was weird was that it was supposed to be about the Sacred Feminine -- about how woman was paramount in Christianity and in history -- and yet the whole film consisted of a series of men explaining what was going on to a dumb (albeit not blonde) and uncomprehending woman. What would we do without them, eh girls?

I asked my son if he understood it all.
'Yes,' he said, 'up to the point where they thought that man had committed the murder.'
That was about four minutes into the film...

* * *

The good news was that I walked there and back.
In the outside.
With people about.
I had some Librium help, and some supportive kids with me, and it was still tough. But I did it. Evening is the hardest time for me to go out, so I'm pleased.
I had to be home before the sunset -- I couldn't bear to see that -- but I went out, and I was pleased.

* * *

I know I go on and on about he who left me, but I'm still finding it so hard. I'm sure normal people don't find it this hard. I just can't seem to reconcile the fact I love him so much with the way he hurt me. I couldn't hurt someone who loved me like that.
Maybe the two things are, simply, irreconcilable, but at the moment I am stuck there.
Something else I should talk to psych lady about.

Person B

Imagine person A.
Person A forms a relationship with person B, knowing that person B suffers from depression.
Person A thinks they can handle it.
Person A cannot handle it, and gets out, shortly before person B commits suicide.
Person A then uses the fact he had a relationship with person B to have sex with person C.
Person A leaving may or may not have been the trigger for B's suicide. I can't remember, and it doesn't matter; it's just a story.

But what if person B didn't die? What if person B is stronger than that?

What if person A wrote that story, shortly before they left, and then person B read it.

How much do you think person B would hurt?

night swimming

Hey,

Today was hard work.

It was very hot, so I opened the patio doors, only to find out that one of them is busted and wouldn't shut. It took me and daughter number one forever to close it and when we'd managed that we found out it wouldn't lock.
I had visions of us sleeping in shifts so that someone could stand guard in the dining room all night.
But luckily we don't give up easily, and after much ado we got it locked. Not properly, but enough to stop someone wandering in.
That was scary.

And all the plaster is falling off the walls and all the fucking lights keep blowing and I'm just too fucking tired to deal with it.

Maybe it's pms, I don't know. But I feel crappy.
I feel so scared when something housey goes wrong and it's just me and the kids. Its a big responsibility.

And that BT advert is winding me up. Woman with two children meets man and everything works out hunky-dory.
Not in my life, it doesn't.

Sunshine, on a cloudy day.

It wasn't a cloudy day at all. It was hot.
But I felt a bit cloudy.

I had another dream last night, and it wasn't scary or horrible or anything.
It was unnervingly peaceful.
A bit sad I suppose, as I think about it now. I need to think about it some more, maybe write it down. It was one of those ones that feel like there is a message in there somewhere, if only I can find of it.

The house is falling to pieces. I really don't know what to do about that. At the moment my blood pressure is really high, which doesn't help things, as it makes me feel like I'm trying to run up a hill all the time, so doing DIY is the last thing on my mind.
Its not really stuff I can sort anyway -- it's the electrics and the damp that are the two biggest problems at the moment.
Those and the roof and the boilers and the floorboards and the windows and the cracks etc etc.

England went out of the World Cup.
I think I was actually quite pleased -- if nothing else the nation's beer consumption will go down by about four hundred per cent.
I was much more moved when Argentina went out. That made me cry.

Number one daughter and I went to church as usual tonight. We took some flowers for one of the elderly ladies there.
That was the highlight of my day.
I hope it cheered her up a bit too.