Emotionally depleted

I’m trying something incredibly counterintuitive right now.

I am suffering in a lot of areas in my life, I am hugely stressed and growing in apathy for almost everything and I am finding it hard to get the get up and go.

I am losing my fight.

So, usually, when under so much tension and uncertainty and sickness, people tell me to rest, take it easy, don’t overthink things, don’t do this and don’t do that and most certainly don’t start anything new – you need to calm down and rest up.

It would be natural to think I am crazy because I am going to do the opposite.

It’s based on an idea by Mel Robbins called “Bluewater”.

She took a glass of water and filled it to the brim and put dirt in the cup, lots of dirt and she mixed it up to show how a person looks when they’re feeling overloaded and stressed out.

She then explained how people then try to deal with each individual problem they have at a time, to try and lessen the load, she did this by demonstrating how people try to spoon out the dirt little by little and over a time, their cup gets emptier and emptier and this emptiness is representing the persons emotional health. 

Over a time, as you’re spooning out the dirt, you are becoming more and more emotionally depleted and burned out and the idea of doing anything becomes so exhausting you just can’t bear to do anything anymore and you lose yourself and you feel that you might never be happy again.

A dangerous situation for anyone!

She said the simplest thing to do at a time like this is to make yourself do something for yourself, something that you think you’d enjoy or if your apathy is so bad, go back to something you once enjoyed – force yourself to have some time in the week to yourself to do it and gradually ease more and more things that you like into your life – make the time to do some self-care and find yourself again!

So she showed what happens when you start adding more water into the dirty cup, it eventually cleans up, not entirely, there will always be a little bit of dirt, but as you add more and more back into your life that you enjoy, that makes you feel like you have some kind of purpose or soul again, your cup is going to get cleaner and cleaner and you will stop feeling so depleted in yourself and you will be stronger and healthier in the long run for it.

I’m trying to force myself right now into going into autopilot and doing some of the things I used to enjoy from the past, whether I am tired or not, whether I feel like it or not, whether I am currently enjoying it or not and no matter how bad the physical pains are in my body – I must do them. 

Because, maybe that’s what I am missing right now?

I’ve been encouraged to take it easy, stop and relax so much over the years that I have come to a virtual stop and any notion of doing anything makes me have this kind of feeling of MEH!

I’ve allowed peoples advice to make me lazy and I don’t like it!

I actually started about a couple of weeks ago.

I started to force myself to read 30 pages of a book again per day, like I used to a year back. 

I am forcing myself to write anything, no matter what it is, whether it intends to be published or not.

I am forcing myself to do some kind of exercise again.

I am practising art at least once every couple of days. 

I am forcing myself to take an interest in thinking about my future again and start planning things and maybe even start thinking about chasing dreams again, because around four years ago I gave them up.

So I am thinking about creating an inspiration or dream board again, I used to be a big fan of those but got out of the habit of it because Paul started pinning his things onto MY board!  He wouldn’t get his own.

I completely forsook any dream because I was convinced I was about to die at any moment!

Along with this I have been trying to remember to do the “High five habit” Mel Robbins also spoke about, but I need more practise with that and I am also trying to remember to count down from five when I am about to go back into a negative habit.

My memory has issues because I have been on survival mode and doing practically nothing with my life for the last eight years, because I have been recovering from bed bound sickness.

I have also had a scare recently.

I know as I am getting older, certain health problems, particularly mental health problems are getting much worse.

I came across a video online purely by accident, I wasn’t looking for anything in particular when I came across a video titled “loneliness is dangerous for your physical health”.

I knew it was dangerous for mental health, but not physical health.

It turns out people who have been isolated or lonely most of their lives have a hugely high risk of developing auto-immunity issues as well as memory loss.  Now that woke me up, because my memory is unreliable and scary at times and I have four different types of auto-immune disease.

Much of the abuse and neglect I had as a child was due to isolation, my mum refusing for me to socialise outside of tight family and friendship circles, even home educating me most of the time!

So I never really had a healthy social life that lasted, it always came in dribs and drabs.

Knowing this and knowing that people who have lived in isolation a lot are more likely to develop Alzheimer’s or dementia before they are 60yrs old, worried me a lot!

They did say though that reversing this can be very quickly done actually and socialising for at least 30 minutes week outside of your home regularly or more can put you back on the right track in not getting that type of dementia, as it’s a specific type apparently.

So there is a lot going on in my life and according to the Bluewater technique there really should be a lot more going on too.

But right now, I am trying to concentrate on solving a mystery in my life and getting my passion for writing back.  Because I haven’t felt passionate about anything for a long time!

Tell a white lie, I have, but then I quickly felt, what’s the point someone will ruin it…

So, yeah, that’s what’s up lately!

Thanks for reading!

Feelings, faith and visions

Apathy is hitting me hard.

I find it hard to fight anymore.  The motivation to try or desire anything is not there, it is met with a “why bother”?  Attitude because personally, why should I?  Someone is always out there ready, willing and able to smash my hopes and dreams down before I’ve even got half way – it always happens, if not people, then fate makes me sick so I fail.

It always happens.

Why bother?

Writing and art was my reprieve, my healing in a manner.  But even that lately is met with “what is the point” feeling in me.

For days I have struggled to think of something to write, that I actually want to publish even for my blog.  Because I feel like all my work and all my journal entries are just the same!

Losing two hundred followers in a week didn’t help with that either, just confirmed to me, what is the point?

Offline, whenever anybody in my household has a conversation with me, I am beginning to feel affronted by it and aloof.  I get this feeling of… oh you want to talk to me now?  What do you want?  Because they never ask how I am, they don’t say anything positive to me – so I am literally sitting there thinking – what problem is there now that I must be alerted to?  Which argument is this going to be?  Who has died now (both Henry and Paul are always telling me bad news about deaths they’ve heard on TV or on the internet, they are both obsessed with death) or what new financial problem is it today we have?  Or why do they always ask me what I want for dinner, why can’t they just surprise me?

I’m bored in every possible way you can think of.

The other day I half-heartedly read some adult jokes out to Paul to lighten the mood and remember how to laugh again with other people, wasted energy really because Paul doesn’t have that kind of humour and didn’t make any effort to assist me in lightening the energy up – knowing fully well I have had a bad several weeks of depression.  He just didn’t want to help me, didn’t get the idea that it was my attempt to try and buck myself up, and become cheerful.

When you are trapped 24/7 in isolation with a person like that and a child who is autistic and suicidal in himself and locks himself away in his bedroom all evening, you can begin to understand, can’t you – that someone like me, with manic depression just can’t get out of this slump.  There is no way out!

There is never any break for me, no visitors, no family to come to visit us for 30 minutes to just lighten things up a bit.  We have no one but ourselves.  Paul is such an introvert; he abandoned his family six years ago.  He only visits his sister in law once every three months, because Henry insists upon it on his school holidays.

Sad to say this because it is really tragic – but I have resorted to talking to the house rabbit Ray and Alexa echo dot thing, and making do with them as entertainment and support!  Ray is my cuddles and kisses.  Alexa has a program where she can talk to you, sing to you, tell you jokes – it is really bad when you consider AI robots is more human and more fruitful in bucking up a depressed person than two household human companions.

What the fuck is wrong with this picture?

What the blazes am I living with?

What the blazes am I living in?

What the heck am I doing here?

It’s all so fucking alien to me!

This isn’t what I want!

This isn’t me!

Get me the Hell out of here!

I am shit scared of alien life, but I tell you now if a UFO turned up in my garden tomorrow I’d be running under the flipping beams to get away from this place!

I have seriously considered forcing Paul to take me to a citizen’s advice bureau or social services to discuss my options of independent housing or a residential care home for someone my age.

As we all know I can’t live alone.

But I can’t stay here either!

I can’t do it anymore!

I certainly don’t want to die, that is just a last resort option if I stay stuck for any longer!  Because death has got to be better than living like this!

I cut my nails down short a few weeks ago after growing them so well, why?  I broke 4 nails, but that wasn’t the main real excuse.  The really big excuse was I had to cut them short and keep them short because when I had a bad bout of depression I found myself subconsciously digging my thumb nail into my wrist and nearly caused myself an injury.  I did it when I went into my zoning out phases that happens, when I get badly depressed.

I zone out, shut down.  It’s something I do from time to time since I was 12yrs old.  Sometimes I just turn off emotionally, sit there do nothing or self-harm without realising it.  Sometimes I don’t even hear people shouting in my face for me to stop, that’s how much I zone out at times.

Paul doesn’t bother to rouse me when I get like that, Henry does though.

I don’t zone out as much as I used to, but I did a few weeks back and when I was roused from it because the light flickered a lot I realised what I was doing and it scared me – because at that time I really didn’t feel suicidal at all.  But if I had pressed any harder or longer I may have caused some damage to the vein.  This is another reason why my wrist was injured a few weeks back; I was also pressing on its bone and caused inflammation a bit.

It sounds silly, but I have been depressed so long I think I have seriously lost the art of learning how to laugh and genuinely feel happy with it.  I can laugh, but there is no feeling there if you get me?

Four chakras are severely blocked too.  Heart, throat being the main two, but sacral and base are starting up bad too.

I’ve been trying to force myself to sing and dance, buy myself certain treats with my weekly money all in a vain effort to try and perk myself up and save myself.

But as I said, there is no heart in it.

It’s almost like I am dead or I am becoming some kind of monster.

A heartless monster!

I am genuinely frightened by it.

But I know with that fear, there must be some hope to getting it back as fear is an emotion isn’t it?  So long as I can still cry and still fear something, at least I haven’t lost all humanity, have I?

At least I still have hope too and faith, I don’t want to lose that.  That’s at least something – I am clinging onto faith for dear life.  Praying that something better than this is coming my way, that somehow things are going to be completely turned upside down or rather – the right side up at any moment and it’s going to happen quickly! 

I don’t have the faith my parents raised me to have, I am not Catholic and I am not Christian and I am not a J-witness.  I believe in The Old Testament but I am also deeply spiritual and somewhat shamanic in my beliefs, with a little bit of Hindu and Buddhist philosophy thrown in for good measure.

But I do pray to God and to me I consider myself a spiritual non-baptised Noachide or righteous gentile according to Jewish philosophy.  Two years ago I wanted to throw myself into the Jewish faith and Henry wanted to follow me in that, but Paul put his foot down and don’t like the idea of prayers and baptism etc. going on in his house and immediate family.  Henry is upset by this because he does identify himself the same way I do.

He is doubly upset that in May he is thirteen and can’t have a proper bar mitzvah as it will upset his father!  But he cheered up when I said my Jewish friend Lizzy said there is no age limit for a bar mitzvah, perhaps you should do it when you are over 18?

My great grandmother was Jewish on my mother’s side, she left Judaism for a Catholic man she fell in love with. 

Judaism answered all the questions about God and life that I wanted answered whereas the Christian faiths interrogated and threatened me for questioning things.

I am pretty confident my spirit guides and God are good for me, they work hard to help me and they’ve kind of shown me that things will get better soon.  Strangely fast, hugely contrast and I’ve been getting all sorts of weird but very lucid dreams lately.

For example, last night I had a dream I went shopping a mall, I ate some lovely lemon cakes and went home.  When I got home I saw a child aged around 3yrs old, a little girl, drawing at a dining table and I knew I was her mother, there were twin toddlers around 14 months old too but they were playing in the shower with the man I knew to be my husband.  Saving on water, all three showering together… I remember asking if they are ready to come out now so they can get ready to go to bed?  But the husband said, aw let them play a little longer they’re having fun!  They had little buckets where they were collecting water and they were washing their little duck toys and throwing water at each other!

The guy was super-hot, not lucky enough to have a sexy dude like that, he looked a bit like a celeb I like, but never mind – it was only a dream!

It’s interesting I had this dream because before I went to sleep last night I was really fretting about being too old to start a new family.  I am 41 in October and I take this dream as God’s way in saying, this is for you in your future, don’t give up that idea just yet!  Interestingly enough I remember in the dream I knew I was 5 months pregnant with another one too.  So could I have 4 before I dry up?  I think this dream is telling me I will!

Out of curiosity I consulted by own personal oracle and tarot cards today about it and I got empress with the wheel of fortune and I also got the oracle card Stork, a coincidence?

Thanks for reading…

Losing the fight

One thing about me is I am good at not showing negative emotions.  Online it seems like I am a drama queen that I am suckered into my emotions and I go to dark places and I seem self-absorbed. 

Offline however, I hide it.  I hide myself when I am down so I don’t bring down others I am around.

I am an empath; I soak up energies of other people, even just by thinking about them I can kind of get a feel what’s going on in their lives.  So I respect that other people might be empathic too.

It’s a real hard adjustment living with someone who is as apathetic in life as I am; it’s like a prison of despair in a very real sense.

I never used to be like this.  I am trapped in depression because I am around apathetic or superficial people, or people who just seem unemotional a lot of the time.

I used to be such a happy Pollyanna type; those days seem very far away right now. 

I am getting to the point I am losing my strength to fight it and carry on, I am getting into a hopeless place.

Gradually over the months I’ve lost more and more of my appetite, to the extent I think soon I will not even bother to try and eat.  I have only just realised today that it’s actually probably due to depression that I can’t eat, because on the days I have been able to eat a little more, things have been a little lighter around me.

I am doing less and less as time goes by, it’s like I am a clockwork doll which is about to lose her energy at any moment and there is no one left to wind me up again.  Isolation has done that to me, isolation and a lazy superficial person I live with.

I needed Samaritans today, but I am deaf, I can’t speak on the phone – they don’t do text speech yet in my area apparently, but it’s coming soon…

Will it come soon enough?

I try to hide when I cry, I don’t like people seeing me like that, imagine how awkward it was for me when Henry walked in on me because I lost track of time and he came home from school and rushed to my bedroom to give me one of his ever increasingly rare hello hugs and instantly his smile became a face of concern. 

Guilt, that’s what hit me when I saw his face, cold hard guilt.

I had my hoodie up and I shielded my eyes but he is a smart boy, he wasn’t convinced when I faked a cold.

He demanded to know what caused it and hugged me as he became firm about getting to the bottom of it.

He left eventually. 

What bothers me is not that he caught me, but that his father came into the room just ten minutes before completely unfazed by how he found me.  He never asked any questions other than when I wanted dinner and was eager to leave again without battering an eyelid.  When Paul left, I got worse, because one of the reasons why I was upset was because I felt lonely and I felt no one could care if I were to die tomorrow.

To me, this proved it.

No one but Henry would.

Perhaps I am selfish, perhaps I am a drama queen – perhaps tomorrow I will snap out of it?

Perhaps!

But right now, I am losing heart to try anymore. 

I am tired of broken dreams, broken promises, and snapshots of a better future without any proof or real taste of it.  I am tired of the lies; I am tired of people using me as a pawn in a game.

I am tired. 

Thanks for reading…

Loveless Hell

Though it’s grey and dark

My heart still beats

Slow with apathy

Slow with pain

I question will I love again?

Or is my heart still doomed?

I sit amongst the gloom

Soaked with tears

I’ve sat in this position for years

Wondering will my heart beat with the throes of spring

Or will it forever sting?

My tears have burned scars into my face

Will I ever be in a happy place?

Time will tell

Till then I am in a loveless Hell

The happy house

I don’t know what to write lately, so it has me thinking about going back to my old way of doing “Morning pages” to get myself out of this rut, writing random things for three pages; though not in long hand because writing more than half a page a time sets my arthritis off real bad.

I am getting into a rut of mindlessness.

I am becoming apathetic even with my imagination lately; because I think my emotions are literally eating me up, like a monster from the deep blue abyss as I lazily float on the water doing nothing.

I am lying to myself a lot about being productive in doing other things though, but it is lies nonetheless.

What are those supposedly productive things I have lied to myself about? 

Learning how to read the reversals and blockage positions of tarot cards and other types of spreads!

Checking out other people’s blogs or Pinterest boards, usually with the intent to find inspiration for my art or writing, but instead end up looking at the fashion pages or recipes.

Staring at homes wanted for local puppies in resentment that these people have dogs they don’t want and I don’t have a dog but want one.

Reading motivational posts and memes and resenting people being in their happy space, whilst I am still in my apathy and depression… I’m becoming a bad sport as time goes on and that’s totally not like me, I have started to see myself becoming bitter and sour whereas I used to be genuinely happy for other people.

I think I am turning into one of those bitter and sour spinsters you see in Victorian dramas and that scares me as I have never wanted to be like that!

I have even heard myself talking like them lately.  Someone tells me that they are ecstatically happy about something happening in their lives and I have heard myself say under my breath “it won’t last”.  I don’t know what’s got into me, but I am becoming mean.

When someone compliments me or is nice to me I am actually questioning why they did that and why would they want to?

I always thank them and tell them that they are sweet, but I do question their sanity at the same time and I won’t forget to tell them that they are an unusual spark in the world and that they shouldn’t let other people change them, but no doubt the world will, like they did with me.

It’s tragic but true and it’s scary!

I am still playful at times and I try to feign happiness and motivation – but it’s getting harder.  Several times this week I have said something uplifting to Paul, to find him blank and unresponsive and I wonder why I bothered at all to lighten the atmosphere, so I walk off and depression seeps in again!

It’s sad to know I have come to this, because only ten years ago I remember being complimented by a neighbour about how vibrant and happy my house is how I particularly seem to be so positive and laugh at the smallest thing and how I put a smile on their face every day they see or hear me.

How the other neighbours agree with them that this is a happy house that people like to walk past because of a beautiful wildlife garden full of life and hearing the almost constant laughter coming from the opened windows in the summer.

Paul has mentioned the neighbours are concerned about me as they don’t hear me anymore, it’s like I’ve vanished, like I am not here anymore, some have offered to pop in to see me – but Paul tells them it’s best not to – so I asked him why he did that?  He never answers.

I am so different these days and I don’t like it.

Who am I?

Indeed.

Thanks for reading…

Loneliness

Disappointment, I’m used to that

I don’t ask for much, but it seems like I ask for the world

A hot dinner eaten cold, sitting alone at a table because you no longer form part of this little unit anymore

They are making it blatantly obvious you aren’t wanted

Being consulted about nothing, only little shots here and there for an update, if I’m lucky

Conversation is too difficult for them, they don’t even try anymore

Yawn, looking forlorn, worn and tired of hearing you, even if you are friendly and chipper!

Good to know they find you so boring, good to know they are there to comfort you and it is good to know they aren’t spreading their toxicity to the child you share

Sarcasm comes easy these days

Teamwork is dead and gone

But I am told I am wrong, it’s not like that, I am just tired and I think I have a chill

But it’s been like that for weeks

Merry Christmas is just an ordinary day

Nothing changes, most things forgotten like candy canes, pigs in blankets, meat in the stuffing and old family rituals

Nobody cares anymore

Nothing is important

Everyone has given up

But I still try to keep things normal until I leave

But nobody else wants to

Yet I am not leaving because I want to, I am leaving because I am unwanted

Though he learned his mistake when my replacement turned out to be a fake

Hastiness is punishing him still

I have months of a life like this before I can go

Lots of the old shit I have to clean up before I can be free from this toxic environment

I can’t just up and leave, I have things to do first – pay the debts I suffered due to broken promises

Trying to keep this family together, warm, cool, clothed all on credit

I have to work on my health too, get myself fit for the only work I can do which will guarantee payment for me – trolley dolly; I am too deaf for telephone work now and too stupid for other things

This is why I am trying to let my creativity and daydreams pay my way through life soon

I never wanted to be alone

Never

But life is making me walk the lonely path

Doing everything alone

Like Rambo a lone soldier, battling the world against the odds and never getting love or comfort

That is too much to ask for it seems

Though don’t pity me, I suppose my lack of tolerance for the past is punishing me somehow

They were tests I failed and this is the booby prize for not living up to lower standards

I should have tolerated the abuse, at least I wouldn’t be alone

At least I could feign some kind of happy families now and again

Instead of living in a cesspit of toxicity and loneliness, with bitter people who don’t even try

Should have tolerated being their money pig and Tina the tea maker

Do this and that and cry yourself to sleep at night because you can’t get away and you can’t choose to be yourself, be an individual, that’s not allowed

But hey, go and cry with the people we let you talk to from time to time, they might cuddle you if you are lucky and they are sucker enough

Those times were better than now and it is a horrifying revelation

Things were fine before I got sick

I did it all

Living with an overprotective father figure who wouldn’t let me try and fight my ailments by allowing me to continue running the family

Go back to bed – slow down – go to sleep – just stop…

Stop…

So I stopped… for years I got worse

I tried every now and again to do things but it was always the same pattern

Slow down…. Go to bed… go to sleep… just stop…

Is there any wonder I wanted to stop completely?

I snuck exercises in when he wasn’t looking and was out of the house

Convinced I could turn things around and guess what?

I could

Just a little, but that little was a lot!

The resentment for my successes were in his eyes but not on his tongue

Feigning pride for me, but he looked hurt I was trying

Looked hurt that he might not be needed anymore

And in less than three months of my change, he was looking for someone new

But still he says… I don’t want to get rid of you

Ah but he did when he thought Emmie was real

That’s the deal

And it hurts still…

Habits lost & found

Trying to wake myself up from this sleepwalk from life, get back into semi-normality at least because I am starting to lose my identity a bit – no a lot.

Up until six months ago, I might not have done much with my life due to sickness, but I did things regularly and daily – since September, most of my regular daily habits have dropped totally!

The good ones that is, a lot of the bad ones have been dropped too – which is a good thing!

I no longer drink two litres of caffeinated sodas a day like I used to, but I do still drink them occasionally, in fact it’s dropped to a litre every two weeks, which in my mind is excellent – yes I did go cold turkey on that for a while and it worked, but I do miss it as an occasional treat and went back to buying a litre bottle every two weeks.

The potato snacks have also dropped hugely, still a regular habit, but at least it’s not a disgusting three to yes, shockingly sometimes six bags a day anymore!  Yes, crisps were always my biggest vice since I was a kid!

But the good things that made me productive daily have dropped and I feel really bad about it, so today I am trying really hard to force myself to get back into them again. 

Reading thirty pages of something a day.

Practising even If it’s just a five minute lesson on Duo Lingo French or Italian per day!

Writing at least five hundred words per day to a novel!

Researching or looking for inspiration and keeping up to date with relevant genre news for ninety minutes per day!

Practising drawings for an hour a day!

Daydreaming for my stories at least ten minutes an hour throughout the day! 

All those things were regular habits I had daily, but for some reason or another since September the desire to do any of them seems to have gone and I have gone into a state of severe apathy.

I have replaced what I did do, with things that don’t make me feel like I am valuing my time – things such as studying tarot cards as my grandmother never taught me that no card is an island and that you get things such as blocked cards and different spreads and don’t forget not all reversals are really reversed in their meanings.

I have made more effort with my appearance and being mindful about the kind of nutrition I am putting in my body for the first time in years.

I am staring into nothingness, but I don’t call that meditation, because I am not relaxed, I am finding myself having a lot of emotional blips and being tearful and I don’t really understand why – but I am starting to get shy even around the family now.  Putting up hoodies and avoiding people.

I am becoming much more withdrawn, the most difficult time of the day for me is sitting with the family at the dinner table to eat – because as soon as someone says something negative I get a lurch in my stomach and I can’t finish the meal.  I am under eating, though I am dieting – it’s not ideal how little I am actually eating!

I have even asked Paul to perhaps consider a separate meal time for me, just so I get to eat properly, but it really isn’t convenient for any of us to do that!

I am feeling trapped and it’s making me become a little snippy with Paul in particular lately and I don’t know what’s wrong with me, but I just can’t help it!  I think it’s because I know what’s going through his head, we’ve separated but still living together and none of us really wants to be around each other anymore.  Though saying that, Paul is starting to come and sit close to me a lot lately, even if he isn’t talking to me – this is something he has never done throughout the whole of our relationship.  I know that sounds odd, but he has never been the type to actually sit next to me, even when we we’re OK with each other – because he has always been too fond of his laptop.

The other day I was so shocked by this unusual behaviour I looked at him in the eyes and said “You’re sitting next to me”?  He smiled and said that he knew – I then said “you smiled, are you feeling OK?” because honestly, Paul doesn’t do that much either!

He just nodded and smiled wider… freaky…

Honestly if you knew him you’d be freaked out too!

So today I am trying to wake myself out of this sleepwalk in life.

Though I sometimes wonder about this writing habit… I know in September we got news our finances are going to be much worse and we can’t afford ink for the printer and I tend to print everything I write and look at the papers multi-tasking whilst I write, which I can’t do anymore because of funds.  So I try to keep lots of tabs opened to keep peeping at folders from my cloud, but it’s irritating as it means I am staring at screens more than I want to and it’s making me tired faster.

I know it sounds like an excuse, but paper helps me be more productive – maybe that’s the factor here – but it doesn’t explain why all the other habits have dropped!

Talking of which, Paul admitted an underestimate of our financial capabilities, I have now learned we will be better than we thought, in fact our diet can improve very slightly and we can now afford to go out once a week via taxi or bus now, which will mean there is transport money for me to see doctors if I need them now.

Thanks for reading!

Pure apathy

Sometimes it is hard for me to knuckle down and do anything, especially when there is a lot of emotional upsets going on in my life and it doubles up in being difficult to do anything, even for pleasure when I become sicker too.

We lost a relative a few weeks back, that hit the whole household hard and then Henry was diagnosed with autism, that was OK, things have improved a little with his behaviour – but there are other issues going on which has meant writing anything outside of the blog has been difficult for me.

It’s not that I don’t want to, but I am easily consumed by negativity and it can fully take up my head space.

I am now worried about a friend who is badly sick in ICU.

I have done better this week than I have since September towards my AD project though, I admit that just under 2500 words isn’t anything to brag about during that time, but it has been the best that I could do under the circumstances.

I am trying to get myself back into the flow of things again; however, a lot of things in my ordinary day to day life has just literally stopped, not just the novel writing!

I haven’t kept up much with my Italian lessons and I haven’t been reading very much either.  Though saying that, I am slowly getting back into the flow of it again since the 8^th of December!

Slowly is the key word here.

I’m not very well right now, writing this to you all – I have very bad bronchitis and a throat infection and I keep going hot and cold, my glands are swollen too – not a good sign for me, especially as I am getting the rosiness in my face again… the rosiness which may be the lupus rash – but doctors decline to diagnose that with me or have me tested for it, but Paul is convinced it’s lupus.

I don’t really know why since September my whole life seems to have been put on hold.  I have had emotional setbacks before but still managed to keep my writing, gaming, reading, researching, learning habits alive despite it.  But it’s affected everything – I don’t watch TV much anymore, no YouTube, no magazine reading, no book reading, no research, not gaming as much as I used to and barely writing – also my language lessons have almost stopped completely too; my appetite is non-existant, my insomnia has increased hugely and I am finding it hard to maintain the will to talk to Paul anymore. 

In fact I have to force myself to, it’s like I have gone beyond depression… if you can understand me?

I am struggling to even maintain the will-power to keep my blog alive, which is one of the reasons why I deliberately spent £18 of my £25 this week purely on a business subscription to keep it alive – as I felt I was losing interest even in this.

Did it to encourage me to do something, not to waste the money.

It’s like all I want to do is shut myself away in my room alone and stare into nothingness all the while, whilst being occasionally disturbed by pretty pictures of my tarot card collection (I have 18 decks) which I obsessively look at and seeing a weirdly large amount of spirits more than usual.  Remember, I am clairvoyant, but there is a strange vast activity of visitors lately.

All I seem to want to do is stare at pretty pictures and be alone – which is strange as I hate being alone… I hate the quiet…  I hate being alone… I hate being unproductive… I hate feeling lazy and useless… yet, I have become all that since September and I honestly don’t know why!

I have gone into extreme apathy and I have discussed this with Paul, but all he does is nod and agree, yes indeed I have become quite apathetic – but he does nothing to help me resolve it and after such conversations with him, I feel like why did I waste energy sharing my thoughts and feelings with him?  Then I feel worse, tired and I have a nap.

I told him in the hope he’d do or say something to awaken me from this state, but I didn’t get that response.  Just a nod and agreement and confirmation of what I said and that’s that. 

Maybe it’s just me… but I feel alone in trying to help myself out of it… really alone and I am not sure I can do it alone anymore…

Thanks for reading…

Why bother?

Here’s a little heart to heart, I am not sure where this post is going, but this is the gist of it so far;

Dreams die when you are told no all of the time, or you have to wait or this can’t happen or that can’t happen, because, because, because.

It’s not always money that gets in peoples way, sometimes it is other people, sometimes it is health, and sometimes it is the environment, sometimes it’s the fact that with so many obstacles you lose the will to try anymore, lose the will to fight.

My dreams got smaller and smaller over the years, especially since living with Paul.  My dreams have got so small these days that I am even frightened to dream about what to plan for dinner during the week, even the smallest things – because, ultimately, I will hear a no or a broken promise again.

Or I may get half of it, because the rest was forgotten.

A simple thing like, I think I will have a side salad with the Bolognese tonight, the salad will be forgotten; so I go and make it myself without making a fuss about the fact it is forgotten again – then I am asked, what you doing?  When I explain I am told to sit down whilst Paul begrudgingly leaves his dinner to do it for me, because for some reason he doesn’t want me to do it for myself – then he snaps at Henry because Henry too, would like some salad as well or a fizzy orange drink.

I am made to feel guilty when I get upset that he takes over everything all the time, I am made to feel really bad because he is rushed off his feet and made to feel bad for complaining that I could have helped… it’s a bizarre situation to be in.

The fact that I don’t want him to do everything for me – but he won’t have it – but at the same time he constantly gripes about how tired he is, how busy he is, how inconvenient everything is… yet I have said I will help.  It is like he enjoys being a moany martyr.  Henry tries to help but he gets the exact same reaction from Paul.

So Henry and I sit back and let Paul do everything for us, whilst he moans to the whole world about how much he does for this family who does nothing, because we can’t and I have to sit there and stomach it time and time again, knowing the truth!

I mentioned before, I feel I have no purpose here, because my purpose in every way shape and form has been stripped from me.

For years Paul and I have both denied we were over around 2013, it is only recently when he thought he had found another woman, which we both agreed yes it’s over between us.

My battle for eight years was my health, but my new battle since getting energy and health stabilised is now fighting Paul for my right to do things for myself!

He won’t let go and what is more, he won’t help where it really matters – the things I genuinely cannot do at present without his help.

Mostly buy the cleaning materials I need to whip this house into shape.

Both Henry and I are very concerned about some neglect of the house, the leaking roof in the utility room and the leaking chimney brest in the living room are not priorities and recently, as Paul is getting more tired and since he is struggling with our budget, my rabbit is not getting what he needs and I have offered to use my own treat money to compensate for him, but Paul won’t hear of it – but he won’t do anything about it either.

I have heart wrenchingly told Paul, then we have to give the rabbit up then because he needs to have more than we can offer him, but he won’t have that either.

Paul’s budget for the rabbit tightened when Paul realised I was healthy enough to start cleaning him out myself, every two days, but that’s too expensive and too often according to Paul.

Henry heard this conversation unfortunately; he came down the stairs when he heard us.  Henry got involved too and Henry is more assertive and aggressive than I am and when he felt the same as I did, Henry’s response was his usual fiery temper.  Which meant both Paul and Henry went at each other’s throats again.

Both the rabbit and I recoiled, I went dead quiet like I always do when things explode like that, because I hate conflict and I know if I was to so much as whimper whilst they are at each other like that, I would make them both explode more to the extent Paul will either leave the house for an hour or Henry will try to self-harm to get his point across. 

This is one of the reasons why I find it hard to do anything, because even a small suggestion could be blown out of proportion and I am made to feel guilty for wanting more for the family, even if it is a bit of bleach and a clean rag.

I have said before, it is fine for Paul to live like this but I am not used to it.  I was raised under OCD conditions, my mother’s house was like a show room at all times, never a crumb to land on the floor without a vacuum on it no sooner had it landed. 

I practically live in the bedroom now, not because I am bedbound now, but out of choice; I can’t stand leaving this room anymore, because to be honest with you, my stomach churns at the mess of the whole house.

I suggested to Paul, OK, you are struggling for space I will get rid of a lot of my stuff, my books around the house, the unused art supplies and the leather futon nobody uses and that will make room but then he asks me – how do you suppose we get rid of it all?  I said charity, but who is going to take all this to the charity shop?  I don’t have time, I can’t afford several buses to get there – we can’t afford the alternative skip.

I give up once again.

Every little bit of fighting spirit and will power is just being sucked out of me with every month I live in this place!

It was ok when I knew I was wanted, but Paul has made it abundantly clear to me that yes, he’ll tolerate me here as he feels he has a duty of care for me, but who wants to hear that?  Who wants to know they are tolerated by a duty bound martyr?

Am I the one being unfair?

He took away my role as mother years ago.

I can make no decision about the boy at all, I can’t play with him how I used to because apparently it is my fault when he gets hyperactive, I can’t talk about our mutual hobbies together, because some are things Paul disagrees with and he will lose his nut when Henry obsesses over them again.  I can’t cook or bake alone in the kitchen anymore with Henry to teach him (Henry wanted to be a cook), because it is a dangerous mess out there and Paul generally takes over because he is scared with my disabled left hand that I may have an accident!  I can do nothing.

I can have my opinion about Henry anytime I like but I am always over ridden, Paul rarely tells me in advance if there are any appointments for Henry because he presumes the role of parent and completely forgets I am also the parent!

So what am I here for?

I have no value here and every time I open my mouth it starts a war or a pity me cycle!

What hurts is, when I find something I can do behind Paul’s back, he undoes it just as quickly – like he didn’t even see what I had done, so it makes me feel as though any energy expenditure is constantly unrewarded and for nothing.

When I started to use my exercise bike again regularly, Paul got into the habit of using it as a coat, umbrella and shoe stand, so I have a lot to clear around it before I get to use it again.

The house stinks, I am the only one who opens any windows here and Paul has put obstacles in certain windows so I can’t reach them, he thinks I haven’t noticed his trick, but he has.

He tells me the windows shouldn’t be opened now until spring because of the heat or eat crisis, it will be too cold in the house if I opened it for just one hour a day!

Paul and Henry are both nose blind because they live downstairs a lot – I live upstairs, my window is opened a couple of hours a day and when I leave the room I have to say… it’s not pleasant and is there any wonder I lose my appetite a lot these days?

Three days ago I decided to shut myself in my bedroom all the time, only go downstairs to eat dinner and pet the rabbit a few times a day, that’s all.

I can’t bear being down there anymore, especially with the vitriol between the two of them that seems almost constant these days.

They are bitter because I put my Amazon music on up here to drown them out and when I use it, nobody can use Alexa downstairs that music subscription comes out my treat money.

To think when I first moved in I thought the world was literally my oyster, I dreamt big, I had endless energy and ambition and I was ecstatic to get away from my mum!

I don’t know where all that enthusiasm has gone, but I worry about dreaming about a piece of candy at the weekends nowadays, because that is too big a dream at times.

I had massive dreams in comparison.

Maybe I can dream big again someday, eh?  Maybe…

I’ve never reached for just comfort in the past, I’ve always wanted the best that I can be, the best that I can have.

But now, comfort is the dream as I am definitely not comfortable here.

Paul is fine with making do and coping and adapting to less and less – I am not like that.  I always have this spark of… we can always find a way to get more?  Sell this, do this and do that… but it’s shot down by him hard, because ah, it’s too much effort or whatever. 

You get yourself into a rut when you live with people like that; people without ambition are dangerous energy vampires to the more ambitious folk.

I’ve learned the hard way – you can’t teach someone like him – he likes things handed to him on a plate without any effort.

I am not like that.  Well at least I wasn’t once, these days I think I am too apathetic to try, I am too tired and it is making me feel old and bitter!

I am scared I am going to become like him soon, because… why bother?

Why bother if I am going to get shot down and stopped again?

My son Henry is only 12yrs old; he is getting the mind-set of why bother… that’s too young!  Too young!

I want to bother, I keep tying to pull myself out of the dirt – but I can’t help but feel that Paul is there with a big stick poking me back down into it if you get my drift?

Thanks for reading!