No-one said it would be easy but no-one said it’d be this hard

February 9, 2003 at 15:51 · Filed under Monday Morning Cold

I slipped up last night. I fucking slipped up big time. I knew it was all about the fine line between control and a lack of and I went over the mark, kept one at bay and let the other loose, like sliding over an icy path.

I could feel it every time I moved today, how I failed, how I lost it. I should’ve been overjoyed last night. Should’ve been? Was. But, there’s always that shadow at the back of you mind. I guess it got too dark.

I figured I should go back, take a look at where I’ve been, in the hope that it might help me to see where I’m going wrong now. I never realised how lost I’d been, how far I’d come, how much I’d been held back. I guess in some respects I’ve not been helping myself, only without realising that.

Some things help you self destruct. Without anyone, least of all yourself, realising it, you can be sitting in a slowly ticking time bomb. That’s me. I should’ve opted for freedom in the first. Something that helped me out to start slowly became more of a hinderance. By the time I realised that it was too late.

I should have listened. There is not other way of putting it. When they told me a trip into hospital would be good for me, I should have taken it as an opportunity to look into myself. Instead, I was so scared I only wanted to get out. The second trip should’ve been the making of me. Instead of being so desperate to get out and go on holiday I should’ve stayed. I think had I stayed I would’ve been getting closer to fine, closer to sorting things out in my head. They were just starting to crack the surface.

I think the doctors were wrong. I guess I never helped, never made it easy for them. That doesn’t make them any less wrong. Well, ok, I guess it does. I guess that puts the blame on me. I was wrong. I admit it. It wouldn’t have been the first time. I should’ve talked/they should’ve made me talk. If I’d talked when I’d had the chance, when it was all still bubbling at the surface, I might have had a chance. As it is, now it’s gone too deep, too far down. I don’t want to go back but don’t know if I’ll be able to get it out if I don’t.

I’ve got to learn to control things again. I’ve got to go back as far as I may need and learn how I kept things at bay. It’s been so long, I’m not sure I remember any more.

Comments off

It’s always cold, it’s always day, I’m always here, you always say, I’m alright I’ll be ok if I can keep myself awake

February 9, 2003 at 15:43 · Filed under Monday Morning Cold

I can’t sleep. I don’t want to sleep. I’m restless. I’m sitting in my bed that hasn’t been made for the past 13 days, listening to an REO Speedwagon cd – but only the tracks that make me feel like writing – and writing, slowly, carefully, anything to drag out the time so I don’t have to sleep.

On Saturday I didn’t want to sleep – I had a fear of dreaming. Past one I had my music on, the light on, my eyes wide open, I was singing softly under my breath, trying to keep myself awake. I wrote about a fear of dreamming a long time back, when I really could write. That was a fear of daytime dreaming, the kind where your thoughts, your imagination rus away with you. Saturday night was a fear of falling asleep, or falling into the restless slumber marking out agitation, panic, fear, worry…

On Saturday night I was lying with the feeling of fearful, panicking worry: the shaking; the breathlessness; the nausea; the spinning head; the wavering on the borders of self-control. But, most of all, the shaking. I tried Jarvissa – she’s gone for awhile, others are nowhere to be seen – seems that the things I once drew comfort from are slowly disappearing.

Tonight is different. Today I was fine. It got to about 10 and I became shattered. Sitting in front of the computer was making me worse to I tried bed: that hideously mess but strangely comforting mountain of duvet. It’s not – strangely comforing that is. Tonight it just makes me feel that pit in my stomach more. If I sleep, the closer I get to somethings and the further I get from others. If I sleep it’s just anothe day that I’ve wasted my safety net, another day that I’ve not caught up on. It’s another day close to going.

The more I think about it the more I wonder if I can do this. I’ve watched so many friends try it, with their safety net, a small anchor still intact. IF I do this i’ll be giving up both in one go, trying things out without really knowing which to try first. I wonder if I can really manage at one.

I don’t think it’s that that’s stopping me from sleeping – it’s just a convenient excuse. I’m not sure what it is – I can’t quite put my finger on it. All I know is that I would stay awake all night if I could.

Comments off