I don’t want to talk to you.
More than anything I don’t want to talk to you.
But more than anything, all I want is to talk to you…
I know you understand.
Or maybe, in my head you understand, and that’s how I want it to be. How I wanted it to be. And maybe it never was that way? Why don’t I know the answer to that?
I don’t understand how I feel.
Is this how grief feels?
There’s an anxiety that won’t leave me alone. It sits in my chest, makes me eat rubbish and fills me with self-loathing.
I don’t know how to be kind to myself. Is that something that can be learnt?
I don’t know how to be in this place. This place that feels like madness, and consistently kicks and screams it’s way out of me, through tears, angst, eating, shouting…none of which helps.
So, tell me, what do I do?
So the big day is over…and to that I say ‘hurrah’!
For many, many years I haven’t been a fan of Christmas. The list of reasons are numerous from parental divorce, my divorces, children being away, being alone…being lonely.
Loneliness is a bastard!! That is my official opinion! And loneliness + heartbreak = misery. And that’s a truly horrible equation. Then there’s trying to figure out a new approach to get out of the crappy funk that comes with it.
All I’ve got heal with and through it, is child cuddles and puppy cuddles! And chocolate!
There is a pattern, though. And it’s time that pattern was gone; changed for a new better way.
I want more! I deserve more! In everything!
And that is going to be my medicine, my cure.
I’ve been silent for so long! Not like me at all…well, actually, I haven’t really been quiet, I just haven’t been writing.
I think I didn’t know what I wanted to say; not sure I do now! But I do have so much to say…so there may, or may not (!) be a deluge of posts going forward! But I am writing again…