Impossible Futures

 I saw a glimpse of a possible future once, and for a while I was happy. 

And then when I realised that was just a fantasy my heart broke all over again but I still can't let it go. The fantasies have always been more compelling than reality - how could they not be? - and this one seemed so close, so modest, so achievable. But that's all it is, a fantasy, and I have to try and face reality again without it. 

No wonder I can't stop crying.

And I can't just turn off the feelings, and I probably could try and do things differently, but maybe it will be enough to just cling on to this one truth, that all it ever was was an impossible future, like so many others I don't mourn because I never believe in them. 

Yes, it's been a while, no I'm not going to address that

 It's the hope that gets you.

Maybe this time it will be different. This new drug/dose combo will be sufficient for you to make and maintain the lifestyle changes, and you'll feel great. You'll actually keep up the new habits this time. Ok, the last diet didn't work, but this one will for sure. You're a new, better person now! You're not going to keep making the same mistakes!

After everything you've been through, surely you've learnt some perspective. You know this won't last forever, so it will be easier to handle. You managed last time you made a phone call, so another will be just fine. You're forty-one now, for gods' sake, you can handle a little disappointment. 

But it's not just about you. Oh no.

Maybe you read the signs wrong. Maybe they didn't notice you were flirting. Maybe there's still a chance. Surely that couldn't happen here. Surely now people will demand change. Surely someone will do something to stop it.

And then you find yourself at the bottom of a pit again. Just like before. Habits slip. Health deteriorates. Thoughts stuck in cycles oh so familiar from oh so many years before. It feels like the end of the world. You freeze up. Everything upset is a killer blow. Nothing ever happens. The world keeps getting worse and worse. 

And once you climb back out, you look down into the pit and think, "Well that can't happen again. What can I do to stop it?" 

And you do it.

And you hope.

Geekdom

The geek demigod that is Wil Wheaton has recently made an interesting post on his blog. Which got me thinking about my own self-identification as a geek.

I've always been different. No doubt about that. I may have been one of the popular kids in infant school but I soon grew out of that as I wanted to play games about mad scientists or superheroes and others just didn't. So I ended up with the ones who did - the ones who would play at Star Trek in the playground while other girls decided they were getting too old for make believe games. And yeah, sure, I stopped playing make believe for quite a while too, eventually. I got my kicks from books and TV instead.

I read SF and Terry Pratchett. I dabbled with Fighting Fantasy books and played with my brother's Advanced Heroquest more than he did. I wanted to be a physicist or an engineer or (finally) a mathematician when I got older. I soon decided I wasn't going to "grow up" - mathematicians never do, do they? And when I went to uni I was pretty convinced I was a geek and an outsider and so, being shy and stubborn, I didn't go out of my way to try and fit in. So I had a pretty lonely time really.

Until I might this guy. And he was a geek - a real one. A gamer who programmed and read real fantasy series and knew stuff - trivia and geeky stuff that I could never remember in a million years. (I think my brain just doesn't do well at retention of facts.) And so I got into Magic: the Gathering, and roleplaying, and pretty much discovered I loved it all.

And of course, now I was actually hanging out with geeks I discovered...how ungeeky I am. Or rather, how much a newbie I am. I've only been roleplaying five and a bit years now and haven't really played a lot of games in that time (the Terror gets in the way a bit). I don't code - I probably should learn something but I have great difficulty learning anything new as I don't have the patience and with programming something just doesn't seem to gel. I don't think the right way. (Must be because I'm a girl - ha!) And while I use Ubuntu I still have to look everything up whenever I need to do something. I don't really know how computers or operating systems or any of the programs actually work at all. There are tons and tons of films I just haven't seen - although Beloved and friends have been working on that. I've never played with numbers or shapes just to see how they fit together. I don't get the urge to take things apart to see how they work. And every area of geekiness I touch on, I just seem to fall short in some way. I'm a wannabe.

But you know what? I'm fine with that. So what if I'm the Eternal Newbie? At least I'm trying. I just feel guilty about calling myself a geek sometimes. But you guys don't mind, right?

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Breakdown

I suppose I have been under a bit more stress than usual. Various factors including Daddy's illness, pressure of work, the Terror being off school this last week and in a particularly stubborn frame of mind for some time before that....yes, ok, I've been trying my best but I was bound to break at some point or other.

I just wish it hadn't been in front of friends.

At least this time I only cried. And lost my temper a little. But at least I didn't physically hurt anyone, not even myself. That's an improvement, right?

Hopefully that's released some pressure which means I can keep going for a while longer. I suppose in the long run, I'll just have to learn that I'm not in fact omnipotent and can't do everything and that what I do is enough, even if it's not everything I wish it could be.

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.