Saturday 14th December 2019 (11.47am)
Not what I want to be writing about but this is how it is and how I am. Lost. Lost in a world which is going on around me and without me whilst I struggle along in my bubbled haze. I liken it to a clip in the film Poltergeist where the young girl stares vacantly into the TV, arms out and all she sees is the black and white crackle. This is what I am looking out on to. Tunnel vision distorts my periphery. I know there is stuff going on around me but I can’t quite make it out. I am sat in a coffee shop with Olly asleep by my side, resting from his crazy beach run. He has one eye open as if to say ‘it’s ok, I am watching out for you’. I smile at him, but what does he see in these dead eyes? Pain? Sadness? mixed in with love.
A Christmas tree stands tall near to me and sitting by it a table of friends, laughing, enjoying themselves going about their normal lives. Couples drinking coffee and eating cakes. Children eating waffles and Nutella, struggling to get through a big portion whilst multi tasking with colouring books. Me, head stuck in phone writing, quietly glancing up to see that normality continues around me but not really focused.
Tonight I was supposed to be going out to my run club Christmas do, booked ages ago with my partner. A few days ago I cancelled. I can’t go. I can’t do it. Pretending to be happy is hard. Pretending to be in the Christmas spirit is hard. I would rather stay home, me and Olly, left to our own world. I am aware of other events that I am missing out on this afternoon. Somewhere where I would love to be, but that somewhere, someplace and someone no longer fits into my plans or into my future.
In the car I revert to the songs which I find comfort in. The voice of Chester Bennington, his powerful lyrics, haunted by mental illness himself and sadly a talent no longer with us. As a certain song comes on repeat, Olly looks at me as if to say ‘not again, put the Christmas tunes on mum’. I don’t. Not yet.
At times like this, I usually revert to what I know best and that’s exercise, but I am finding no comfort in that these days. Yesterday I went for a run. At times I felt like I was hyperventilating as crippling emotions ripped through me. I may go again later, if not maybe tomorrow. Who knows.
Last night I made a decision to cut ties with a lot of things, for my self preservation and healing. One of those things was my social media, but I need that to post these upbeat (PMSL) blogs. I will be on and off it over the next few weeks.
I will roll on. I will do what is best for me. I am not sure what that is yet but I have a whole heap of options available to me. Things will become clearer in the next four weeks or so. Light will shine again, I am sure of that. For now, existing is all I can do to get by each day, but if thats all I can do then that is better than nothing. Soon I will live again.
Soon George will reappear.