Monday 6 April 2009

Html-menace: hell to my... lament? No, that's rubbish...

And so, I am in a mild (at times, lately, unbearable) state of depression. Many tears leaked from my eyes over the weekend just gone. I am still ever thankful for Olbas. I'm inclined to think "it" has been exacerbated by the "Mum situation". It's clearly not her fault and, therefore, I certainly don't blame her. It was obviously a shock, knowing my Mum had breast cancer, but I thought, "I can be strong, I have to do this. No tears... OK, maybe some, but not on show. Much." and it worked... for a while. Trying to fool myself into believing I'm all right and I'm not cracking again - as opposed to breaking and then falling apart, often in spectacular fashion - is harder done than said. Inevitably, this plan will not last and, when it does end and comes crashing down around me (hopefully not literally), I feel such a fool for believing myself and my feeble idea. "How did you ever think it would work? It didn't work last time, why the hell would it work now?"

This, then, makes me feel even worse. And then I need more Olbas Oil. This fooling of myself is easier, I think (I think, must mean something then, eh?) to accept than it is to forgive myself for the way I end up behaving, the way I treat those around me who know me best and who look after me when I'm on the floor, temporarily disabled by the pain caused by, say, periods or Mirena. The contempt and cruelly sarcastic comments that go their way because I abhor my (presently) uncontrollable situation are completely unacceptable. That I should behave in such a way is utterly wrong. But I still do it. I do it every time one of these "bouts" occurs. At that time, can see no way of it changing. But I'm still so angry with myself for being so stupid about "being OK" when I'm so obviously not.

"I hope you get fucking lost", "Don't. fucking. do that", and other similarly mean asides get muttered under my breath. I say them with an astonishing amount of venom. And at the time, I mean them. I'm SO angry, not with one person, but with everything. It's all wrong. It's all so dark and tearful and pointless and difficult to think and believe that it will change. Even though I've done it so many times before. But I think it's precisely because it's happened so often, that I feel such a fucking idiot.

All this, therefore, shouldn't be my main thought at this time, with Ma still recovering and doing more around the house than she should, because she's frustrated with what isn't being done because I'm not well enough to do those things. When I feel not so bad, I can do bits and pieces but compared to what needs to be done, the usual, everyday household tasks, ironing, vacuuming, dusting, etc.... I'm about as much use as knickers on an avocado.

I sit here, snapping at questions which require a simple answer. I complain about what's on telly. I bitch about the strange eyebrows on some women's faces. (I admit I have an unhealthy... not obsession but... maybe it is... they're just not that hard to get right.)
Once I think about and realise what I've said and how I've said it, I can't believe I was so nasty. How could I say that? To those people? The ones who mean more to me than anyone, the ones for whom I would do anything to help. The depression stops me being me, it takes away who I am, what I really feel and think and regard as important and possible and wonderful and aspirational... Or does it? What if this is really me, who I really am? What if, actually, I'm a spiteful, cruel-minded bitch who doesn't have pity for people who may deserve just a little...?

I (we: Ma and I) can be sure that this is "just a hiccup", "a bad patch". I've "slipped back a bit". Again. Actually, though, I'm not so sure that I have "slipped back", this time. I'm certain it's just a reaction to the current events and situations that are happening: I feel, strongly, that the last three months have been wasted. Having these feelings, the bleakness, the darkness (no, not that, please... PLEASE. NO.), the helplessness, the difficulty breathing because I'm crying so much, it's horrible, that... it's all just my brain doing what it usually does. I just wish it would do it a bit less severely, with fewer tears and less effort required from me to "get back" to where I was. But I've just said I'm not "back". So... shh. I know what I mean...

I'm fairly sure I'm not a bad person, that I feel empathy for others, that I am caring and thoughtful, and I know I'm not lazy. I'm just really, really tired sometimes. This all-over aching, although not terrible, is just another little thing to bring me down a little more. Like my upper wisdom teeth causing pain and/or discomfort and craftily hiding themselves at a jaunty angle, making cleaning them a task and a half. Like the low blood pressure: not awful, but feeling dizzy and seeing blackish fuzziness every time I get up is just bloody annoying. Lots of niggling things, on their own are not much to be bothered by but when they're all joining together, it's really bloody annoying.

And I'll tell you what else is bloody annoying: not being able to catch up with The Wire on the BBC iplayer. Something to do with buying the show but because it wasn't part made by the BBC, they can't stream it. Or something. I'm not buying it on DVD in case I don't like it. I only saw the first episode, missed the second and all others so far broadcast on BBC Two so I shan't be paying for all that swearing and naughtiness for nothing. Potentially. I'll see if I can "borrow" it from D. Hmm...


  1. Don't be so hard on yourself, anyone with your problems is bound to suffer mood swings. Just try to believe in yourself, get out into the world and shine, you may need to develop a thick skin for a while, we all do you know. Life won't come knocking at your door, don't let it pass you by.

  2. Clearly you enjoy football, why not go (with a friend) to an after match drink. Just relax and chat up a few of the players, you have one huge advantage many women would die for (look in the mirror).

    Trust me when a man is being questioned about his favourite thing (football) by his other favourite thing (you) he will think he has died and gone to heaven.

    I realize some of your problems are physical or beyond your control but the mind is a powerful thing and confidence is king.


Talk to me. Caaam aaahhhnn...