I have been in a mood all day. Scrap that – all weekend. There were good parts, but then there were the bad parts…
It started on Friday, when I woke up to the period pain of doom (TMI, sorry!) and a text from my boyfriend telling me he had been throwing up all night and wasn’t going to come to the AGM to decrease my pre-talk wibbling. The talk went really well and I got a lot of lovely comments from people as well as invitations for further talks, but I had a bit of an anti-climax problem afterwards. You know when you’ve been looking forward to/dreading something, then it’s over and it was great/not as bad as you thought but you feel all flat? I had no one to share my adrenaline or my adrenaline crash with because all of the friends I’d invited were either ill or busy, so I went home alone, moped about a bit, then Jonathan came over (having decided he wasn’t all that ill after all) and cheered me up.
Saturday started well, but suffered from the same problem. Jonathan and I went into town for Pride, but the weather was rubbish and Jonathan was tired, so he caught the train home and I went to join the march. I started off with a couple of other members of my choir, but lost them amongst the throngs of umbrellas. Once we got to the park, our fifteen minutes on stage were fun – but again, then it was over and I was on my own. If I had been alone and single this would not have been a problem (ahem), but alone and attached was not so great. Alone, attached, and on day two of the cramps from hell was even worse. I need to make more friends.
So I decided to walk to my favourite restaurant for some dairy free cake, and got soaked. AND they didn’t have any of my favourite cake. AND the crampage got worse half way through my panini, so I had to choke the rest down and get home pronto, where I felt sick and pissed off for the remainder of the evening.
Today I got up half an hour later than I usually would for work, so had to rush. I got to work and various distressing/frustrating things occurred which I won’t go into detail of just in case my blog is ever discovered by someone I work with (unlikely but theoretically possible), but I think the highlight was comforting a 98 year old lady who was crying because she missed her mother. I almost started crying too. I just couldn’t seem to get started today – I did eventually get a nice game going in the afternoon, but for the most part I felt like I couldn’t have organised my way out of a paper bag. My job is great in theory, but it’s stressful mentally and I get so upset about the residents when they are sad or confused. Dementia is a bitch of a condition. I suppose I am going to have to develop the ability not to take clients’ problems home if I am going to be a counsellor, but it still sucks. I never want to get old. Grey hairs and wrinkles I can live with, but losing my mobility and my memory and my loved ones is not a nice prospect. Although I am only 26, so I should probably quit worrying about this for the next fifty years.
So I’m lonely and sad and grumpy, the self harm urges are back with a vengeance, I want to go to bed and stay there all week, I feel sick and shivery and just to be helpful, my heart is all arrhythmic again after behaving for a few weeks. I will be fine – I was starting to feel like I was adapting to my new routine last week, my mood and anxiety levels were much better – but I just wanted to whinge. I wish I had someone here to give me a hug, really.
I will stop being such an Eeyore now.