Dreading the end of term. Dreading the holidays. Back to the ancestral home, good food, sleep, decent company, the chance to exercise, and nothing to fill up twelve hours of my day. Teaching clutters my mind, forces the thoughts to the edge. It only really hits me during the breaks, when I look at my phone to see nothing but the O2 logo.
I tried putting your picture up as a wallpaper, but found it too painful to look at.
Two weeks 3 days to go.
Sat on my own. She’s not here to share the stories with. Over 600 miles away, south east east east. Say goodnight and hope she’s OK.
Lonely. Want to hold her and make things OK. Can’t. Pad of paper and a set of words that could mean everything or nothing. Don’t know what you’ve done or thought. What if, what if? Uncertainty bowling through my brain, turning thoughts into skittles and sending them flying to all corners of my consciousness.
Two weeks four days to go.
Sat watching the school play this evening. Felt a nameless sense of dread. Hot flush surged through me, felt like the blood was going to leak through my skin. Guts clenched and tightened, couldn’t focus properly. Hope it was the meds. Thought about Fran. Don’t want to go back to my parents on Friday. Don’t want the school term to end. One good thing about teaching is that it helps keep your mind off things. Evenings have sucked. Hope she’s here every time I caom home, though I don’t expect her to be. Say goodnight to the dark and face north when I sleep, hoping she can see me.
CBT and a load of bits of paper. Scrawled thoughts piling up and being discarded like needles around a Christmas tree. Issues examined, discarded, locked down and found festering. Options and plans, hopes and fears. Desperate, clawing, punching the wall and wondering why. Can’t sleep anymore. Wake up at 3 am and search for a hug that isn’t there.
Clarity, final solutions. All staring clear from the paper, edges delineated, obsidian grooves in a snowfield. Too late? No. Can’t be.
Walk away from the paper. Stare through the window. Wonder if you’re out there. Wonder what you’re thinking.
You’re in my thoughts every day. The first thing I think of when I wake up, and the last thing I think of at night. I thought that only happened in books.
The hardest part of all this is when I’m not working. I find myself actually looking forward to getting into work, as I know there’ll be some sort of social interaction.
Spend evenings trying to get everything organised in my life and in my head, but find myself going round and round in circles. Not sure what to do with my thoughts, how to organise them. No one calls. Left my phone at home two days in a row, came back each day to find that the world is ignoring me. Sometimes I want to ring Fran and talk to her, but I know I’m not allowed to, so I don’t. Went for a drink with KB on Wednesday, but didn’t like how it made me feel.
Say good night and good morning to Fran every day, even though she’s not here at the moment. It’s possibly slightly easier to deal with as at least I’m in my own home. Have to go to my parents for Christmas, and I’m dreading it. A season for enforced jollity, even though I wish it would all go away.
I like sleeping at the moment. Gets rid of hours until I can see Fran again.
Mental state is chaotic right now. Everything swirled together and trying to coalesce into some sort of identifiable whole. No anger, just a determination to improve and confusion over how to accomplish it. Pink clouds and yellow triangles in the head, fuzz in the limbs, mental machinery burning at overdrive whilst the physical body sits unmoving. Therapist worksheets to fill in. Life graph. What? Blaming events in the past? Perhaps a reason, if not a justificiation. Who knows.
Write everything down. Must write everything down. Scrape meaning from the inside of the head. What to do.
First post in years that’s come out as I think it, rather than how it should be written. Total shite.
I’ve fucked up. More comprehensively than I ever have before. I’ve caused the woman I love more than anything else in the world to be hurt, upset and humiliated. My entire world is crumbling around my ears, and it’s all my fault.
I’m so sorry. Please come home. I’ll do anything.
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