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Mental Health Track 039

I very obviously called it too early. A mere five nights of reasonable to OK sleep is no pattern, no sir. Very much jumped over a shark with that one. With crushing inevitability I couldn’t get to sleep last night, got up, did some things and re-attempted it at about four in the morning. Which granted me a few gritty hours, worse because I slept through my alarm and woke in a bit of a flap and needed to eat and start work immediately. Routine fritzed once more. So I’m catching up now, after work. And I have to say I feel proper fucked off. I’m sure it’s partly the disappointment, having felt like I had at least a tentative finger hold on the business with a Cliffhanger moment, and then found out I was John Lithgow, not Sylvester Stallone. Is that even the right film? I’m not sure. Don’t care.

So yeah, my mood has flipped entirely from yesterday when I was genuinely up and perky, feeling like I could get things done to now properly pissed off at myself and just struggling to do anything. I’m not sure if it’s a difficulty in making decisions that comes with being unslept, as if I can’t grasp the various aspects of a case and figure out how best to approach it, or if it’s the erosion of caring about anything. I’m a little surprised by how stark the shift is today, to be honest, and slightly frightened by its suddenness. I’m not clear on whether the mood followed staring at work at being unable to find a path, or if it’s the other way around. Whichever it is, this is most inconvenient. It’s the not feeling like I’m making any progress during the day that annoys me, that and feeling like what progress I’d made towards conquering insomnia (may be building it up too far here…) has been swept away from me. I want to be able to do all of these things, and maybe even feel good while I’m doing them, and instead it feels like I’ve just tipped backwards into the abyss. Not the good one, with light-up aliens, this is obviously the megalodon trench (monsters to be seen in at least two films this year).

Similarly I feel maxed out, angry – I’m doing my part, aren’t I? – and it’s not enough. There’s no one else to take up the slack; there never ever is. There are so many things I do where if I don’t do them then they just won’t happen. I don’t know why they’ve come to rest with me. Usually I can do the whole “for the good of all” argument and it’s fine. How is that everyone else gets to do fuck all and it’s all fine? And I know that on a different day that will all be fine – it was yesterday – and that is always the rope to cling to, or chain, I guess if I’m hauling myself out of the ocean/megalodon teeth (I really don’t like sharks at all) – however I feel right now is transient and even if I fucking hate it, tomorrow will be a different day. As Chief Vitalstatistix always reminded us, “tomorrow never comes”. Dammit, I’d somehow misremembered that and it’s the exact opposite of what I’m trying to remind myself of. Wait, the whole thing is “The sky may fall on your head tomorrow, but tomorrow never comes”. Still not helpful, today’s the problem. How shocking that I can’t find actual solace in the comic masterpiece that is Asterix.

Such a weird combination of emotions too: I feel angry, sad, selfish (not sure where that one’s coming up from), I feel a vast gulf between myself and the things around me. Even the presence of our littlest cat in her window nest has done little to assuage me today. Feels like punishment for optimism and being happy yesterday. I have a strong sense of something shifting underneath, inside, and for reasons I don’t understand I found myself typing into Google the name of the man who abused me when I was a teenager. No idea what he calls himself now, and I don’t know why I’m trying to find him. I feel like I’ve been suddenly derailed, as if the last few weeks of knowing why I’m trying to stop taking sleeping tablets haven’t happened and I’m gazing confusedly around at what’s going on. I’m struggling to even focus on writing this, and I haven’t even had that little sleep. I’m entirely sure what’s going on, but I don’t like it and I want to be unconscious please.

Slightly Broken

An assortment of diary entries from counselling and the process of coming to terms with the past, feelings and all that mental stuff.

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