I sent that in a text to my partner the other day, when I was on the train to work. And I do. I just don’t know what I hate about it. He didn’t respond, but that evening he said to me, “You need to figure out what it is that you hate about it and start fixing it.”
And I resented that. Because I know that already. I resented the fact that he can’t see that I have been desperately trying to “fix” it for the past god-knows-how-many years, but I go nowhere. I still feel lost and directionless.
I don’t even know what it is that I hate, really. Well, I hate having to go out to work, that’s for sure. I hate being one of the people in suits and heels trundling along the platform and jostling for the best position in the train of a morning/afternoon. My job is okay, I guess, but I hate the need for it. I hate being one of thousands of people all doing the same thing. I hate making meetings for people so that they can set agendas for other meetings. I hate having to get up at 5.45. I hate that my weekends are almost always spent at home in front of the tv or computer once the running around after the kid activities is over with. I hate that I have no friends that I can catch up with on my days off; that there is no-one that I can even think of to go for a coffee with. I hate housework.
I hate that I’m just existing and not living. I hate that I can’t find myself something that brings me true joy, that is just for me, so instead I go shopping to give myself a lift.
That’s how I feel these days. Desperately running, going nowhere.
This is the first “downer” I’ve had since I commenced medication 6 months ago. On the one hand I kind of think, “Hey! You’re not supposed to feel like this!” But on the other, I guess I’m relieved that I can still “feel”, if you know what I mean.
I don’t really know why. I guess it’s a combo of relationship stuff, and new job stuff and I guess also the dawning realisation that being on medication is not the universal panacea. There is still crap in my life, and unfulfilled dreams, and things I am unhappy about. The good thing, though, is that I’m better placed to deal with them, mentally speaking.
So what can I do to shake off the blues?
1. Exercise (yeah, maybe this afternoon);
2. Go out and do something I enjoy (like op shopping!);
3. Talk to someone (umm … who?);
4. Sing (again, maybe later);
5. Get up and do something, like housework (*whiny voice* you always expect me to do EVERYTHING!!);
6. Read (I’m kind of sick of reading at the moment).
Alternatively, I could just do not much at all and allow myself to feel blue for a while. Just accept that it’s there.
My kids are bored. I’m bored.
Our lives have become an endless cycle of nothing again. I’m sitting here at 9.45pm on yet another Saturday night spent doing nothing. This is not the life I envisaged. I wanted a life of happiness; of joy and fun. Instead I’m watching the minutes tick by and wondering if it’s too early to go to bed even though I’m not tired. I’ve flicked throgub Facebook and I’m seeing photos of various friends enjoying themselves with their husbands and wives. And I’m envious.
At my last session with my psychologist, I was assigned the task of addressing our relationship issues with my partner. Because we can’t go on like this. I don’t want this life where I’m holed up in my bedroom on the computer because I don’t want to spend time with the person downstairs. The same life where he sits on his laptop in front of the TV because he can’t be bothered with the person upstairs.
But I haven’t addressed anything with him. Why? Probably because I don’t have the courage. Or the energy. Or because in my heart of hearts, I don’t want to address it; I just want to do my escape thing. And probably because I know how it will go; his distance/lack of interest is all my fault. He doesn’t talk to me because I did x, y or z. There’s always a reason, and it’s always my fault. And I just can’t be bothered with it anymore. And yes, I know it’s my fault as much as his, since one of has to make a positive at some point. I’m just sick of it always being me.
So instead I have to content myself with weekends so boring I want to scream and start throwing stuff at the walls.
With social media these days, it’s so easy to rediscover lost friendships. He stumbled across her in the unlikeliest of places. And, twenty five years later, he sent her a message. How are you?
They exchanged news, gave each other the briefest details of their respective lives.
He told her she was his first love. He said he regretted letting her go. That she was one of the few people who truly understood him. She wondered if he remembered what it was like. Truly.
And she dug deep inside herself to see if there was a kernel of loss there, somewhere. She looked at the images of his life and tried to imagine herself in it.
But it was in vain. Twenty five years later, it was still what would never have been.
I was without my voice for many, many months.
I didn’t feel like singing. Partly because I was just too busy. Partly because I felt to disillusioned and too damn’ old; I move in musical theatre circles and it’s a young person’s world. Oh, there’s a place there for older women, but it’s not a very big one. And I just don’t have a theatre voice.
Thats said, one of the things I’ve done recently was to audition for (and subsequently get cast in) a show. While I’d thought about it for a while, I hadn’t really considered it seriously as I was working full time. But then I got the part time job, and I figured I may as well. Still, as I had barely sung for 18 months, I didn’t think I was up to a lead role. Plus I only started singing again a week before the auditions. Still, I got a role and here I am.
I’ve continued to work on my voice and I’m actually in pretty good form. When I’m singing, I don’t want to stop. I have daydreams about joining a band, doing some folky acousticky jazz type of stuff in some groovy little cafe or bar somewhere.
But I don’t know where to even start with that. I’ve looked at musicians listings, but no-one’s looking for an old lady like me.
An acquaintance of mine has done just this lately. And, I must admit, I’m a bit envious. I want to be that person.
So, much has been going on in my little world.
I started a new job last week, leaving behind my comfortable little role in a quirky company full of quirky people. My new job is a part-time role, which is good. Lots of scope for promotion and development, also good. Lots more responsibility, which is …not so good, I think.
I’d been looking forward forward to starting. Really keen to get my teeth into this nice, meaty role which would be such a welcome change from my boring, mundane, previous job. But now I’m here, I don’t quite feel the same. It’s an extremely corporate environment. It’s conservative. And every fibre of my being is screaming that this is not for me. I don’t want to do this any more. I just want a job in a supermarket where I can just do my mindless thing and then go home and sing or crochet or hug my children or whatever.
And part of me knows it’s just my flight mode kicking in. I read or heard somewhere that children who have been abused have a highly developed flight mode as adults. When I heard that recently, I recognised that in.myself. It’s something I’ve noticed more and more in myself in recent months. As soon as something makes me uncomfortable, my instinct is to run away. As I’ve done so many times, and it’s why I simply don’t see things through. As soon as it doesn’t go right, I’m out.
So I’m hoping that that’s what this is. I’m hoping I haven’t chosen an inconvenient time to discover that I really, really don’t want to do this any more.