Deja Vu

I've been here before.

I don't mean "here" physically (although of course I have, as it's my bedroom) or virtually (although of course i have, as this is my blog), nor do I mean it in some creepy past life sense. No, I mean mentally - I have been in this state of mind before.

So naturally I know it will pass. Maybe I'll just pick myself up and move on, or my beloved will make me laugh and everything will seem better. Maybe my son will be extra cute. Maybe a friend will offer me hugs (real or virtual) and I'll remember it's just not worth beating myself up about. Whatever happens, I'll feel better soon and try and get on with life as best I can.

Of course, I also know this will happen again. All my good intentions will slip and I'll spiral back down into a vicious circle of sloth and self-loathing. I'll not do any work and then worry about not doing any work. I'll let the housework build again to the point where I start getting stressed about it. I'll sit and mope over some guy who's better off without me anyway instead of reveling in the love I have (and boy what a love that is). I'll become so convinced that I'm a terrible mother that it will become a self-fulfilling prophecy as I become incapable of looking after my son because I am too wrapped-up in my own misery.

I think this is what I find so depressing about it - no matter how hard I try I always fail to snap out of it for good. And I know this belief that my behaviour is inevitable is one of the biggest barriers to changing it once and for all. And I don't want my life to be like this, not least because the two people I love the most are the ones who suffer the most. But I can't find it in myself to believe there is anything anyone can do to help.

This afternoon I'm seeing a doctor again after too long. I daren't hope that good things will come of it. But it seems the only thing to do.

Weekend + Birthday!

The Terror was packed off to Grandma and Granddad's for the weekend, where he apparently had a good time but can't tell us anything about it. Other family was also staying, so he got lots of clothes and toys and mostly behaved himself.

Warning: the following paragraphs contain larp-froth

His Daddy and I were off larping on the North Yorkshire Moors. It was my first small event, and as I'd bought kit and got a new occupational skill at the Gathering, I was fully expecting to die. I didn't, and more miraculously, hardly anyone else did either. With monsters throwing off Mass Diseases left right and centre we burnt through our healing pretty fast and several of us ran out of power half way through Saturday afternoon. Rhiann certainly didn't like having to tell people she couldn't do anything when they brought people with Fatals to her. Then spent rest of day and night wandering around physician-ing and feeling pretty useless - doubly so after being hit and brought back to a Debilitated state which meant I could pretty much nothing. Sunday big battle was also fairly lethal,still can't believe everyone made it out alive.

Overall I think I enjoyed myself. Still had the beginning of event blues where I feel useless, nervous, left out etc, and didn't do as much healing as I should have done, but obviously it was sufficient and no-one complained (to my face anyway). Only the one anxiety/panic attack which I quickly got under control - strangely not at the most terrifying moments while actually under attack, but during a bit of a lull while I was trying to heal Seraphim and lost count while people were shouting and I realised I was running out of power. I screwed up several times and really ought to revise the healing/damage rules before going to events, maybe I'd feel more confident then but never mind.

And I got to drink Kopparberg perry and Moniack mead - what more could a girl want?

Today was a bit of a mad dash as it's the Terror's fifth birthday. 5! Can't quite believe it, but he's at school and everything so I suppose it must be true. He had a small present to open this morning and take to school - a WALL-E plushie which came home with the head pulled off, hopefully Daddy can fix it....I spent the day tidying, baking a cake and setting up his main present: "Dungeon of Doom" from the ELC, which they apparently no longer sell so we got it just in time. It's from the same range the Tower of Doom but smaller and cheaper. He was impressed at least. The cake wasn't a huge success and as we went out for tea with Nana, we were too full to try any this evening anyway. Now the excitement's over, I'm left wondering where we're going to fit the bike he got from Nana, whether we're actually going to get round to organising some sort of party for him and his friends, and what to do now. Other than go to bed, which seems to be the best bet, despite it not being even nine yet.

Tomorrow it's back to trying to fit in both work and housework with not feeling too depressed. Ah well.

It Was Six Years Ago Today

(Stop me if you've heard this one.)

It was a Thursday. First week of term, so nothing for me to do but wallow in self pity. I'd seen my ex earlier, and we'd had a good chat about summer and the next year and his hopes of finding a girlfriend at a Wine Soc social. Felt pretty good to still be friends and realise we weren't going to do anything daft like get back together - even when he kissed me goodbye on the lips it felt more like closure than the start of anything. But I was still hung up on other crushes and other hurts. As the afternoon ticked by I got lonely and desperate to see a particular someone again and went to the maths department (now in shiny new surroundings in Goodricke). I sat on the seating in the corridor, hoping pathetically that he'd walk by or I could catch him on his way out of coffee.

I can't even remember if I did see him.

I started crying. The intense, aching, agony of wanting even the briefest of contacts with someone you know you can't have has always been more than I can cope handle. These days I hide or seek out hugs. But back then I was a passive-aggressive, emotionally blackmailing drama queen, and couldn't bear the thought of people not knowing how badly I hurt. So I sat in public and cried. Then curled up into a ball, lay there and sobbed my heart out. Hoping, of course, that someone would stop and help.

Someone did.

I was vaguely aware of someone stopping and sitting on the floor next to me. I didn't know who it was, but I knew who it wasn't so I had no intention of paying them any attention. I just stayed still, face hidden, hoping they'd go away. I must have stopped crying at some point. And waited for them to give up and go away so I could slump off back to my room. Or even just say something, so I could brush them off and leave. I didn't quite have the courage to just up and go. Or maybe I was still hoping they'd get someone else. I can't remember. Anyway, I hid.

Eventually, I heard movement as the person shifted their weight slightly and I cautiously looked up. I recognised him as one of the new postgrads.

"Don't worry," he said. "I'm not going anywhere." More true than either of us could have imagined at the time.

I started to mumble apologies, which he told me were unnecessary, and wipe the tears away and brush my hair back from my face. I may have tried to suggest that I'd better go, but his easy going empathy disarmed me somewhat - I wasn't used to people not asking what the matter was. Then he suggested coffee and that was it. No way I was going to turn down coffee.

We sat, we chatted. Then we went for a walk. Then he suggested he cook tea. We had what can really only be described as a "student meal" - bacon in a plum sauce with noodles. Made all the more problematic by the fact he only had one set of cutlery - I got to have the knife and fork and had to cut up his bacon for him so he could eat it with a spoon. We ate, drank wine, listened to music (and he introduced me to Weird Al, thus leading to possibly the geekiest "our song" ever - The Saga Begins), talked and laughed. Laughed so much. We were in hysterics for most of the evening - nerves probably, but he still makes me laugh so I can't stop. And there was kissing and even some fondling, and he walked me home at the end of night.

And I couldn't wait to see him again.

***************************

Postscript: Five years ago today we were stood in our new house with the baby due at the end of the month. We were about to go out (for lunch, I think) with my parents when my mum spotted the cards on the mantelpiece.
"Oh, what's the occasion?"
"It's our anniversary," we explained. "We met one year ago today."
"One year?" She sounded surprised. "Is that all?"
Just about everyone had said it at some point during that year - it seems like we've known each other a lot longer. And I think that's what made me so sure we were right for each other - it seemed so natural, even to other people, to the point where it felt it had always been this way. And it always will.

It's unimaginable any other way.

Ok, crying done

That didn't last as long as usual. Maybe I'm getting better at picking myself up and carrying on.

Maybe I should stop blogging when I'm depressed...

Feeling sorry for myself

So far today I've spent most of the morning trying to write a post about love/lust/friendship/crushes and failing miserably, while also failing to write anything on my thesis and reading far too much of a new (to me) webcomic. This afternoon has mostly been spent cyberstalking friends on Facebook and their blogs. I still haven't finished the washing up. And I've got less than an hour before I have to go collect The Terror and no doubt then I'll fail to think of something for him to do so he'll end up playing Lego Star Wars on the Wii while I carry on being all moody. And I know what I should do - something - but I can't quite bring myself to because I get panicky when I think about trying my thesis again or doing yet more housework and I can't even settle down to read a book....

I think I'll just go curl up into a ball and cry.

And this is why I love my SO

Adele: hugs
Why does my brain hate me? Stoopid brain. :(
Paul: ? Wassup, gorgeous girl?
10:43 AM Adele: Stupid crush. Crush bad.
Paul: Who you crushing on? hugs
Adele: [name removed]
Paul: I can see that. He's great.
Adele: ....
10:44 AM You'renot helping!
:p
Paul: :D Sorry. Ummm... His penmanship is atrocious, and he dresses in the manner of a male prostitute?
Adele: :D
I love you!

In other news, I'm taking a break from attempting to clean the bathroom. It's...a bit cleaner. Next I'll try to get the floor a bit less grubby. Then I've got the washing up to do, and that's today's housework done!

Then I might have to do yesterday's....