24th November 2020
Okay, mental health day. I’m a bit down, barrelling this past week.
Been in bed for days now. So much for the brand new me.
It is again that empty plain, with expectation rising like monoliths on the horizon. Stuff that would be a normal day of tasking, but now, lamped with so much lethargy it becomes insurmountable terrain. With vampires.
- Work will likely start at the end of this week. Literally cannot face it. There are no secrets in that place, it always gets out. Everyone knows what everyone says, ever, insofar as we have ears and eyes and brains and people tell each other anyway, or it’s so painfully obvious we can work it out, despite pretending not to. I wish folk knew that and maybe stopped the underhand daggers at every opportunity. Jobs should be a job, not a competition.
- Need to sort THAT THING out, which cannot be spoken let alone looked in the eye.
- Need to finish rewriting The Book. Need to face the reality that I may never get it published, wasting my time for a dead end, stuck with a non-existent pension and old age to look forward to. Yes, I’m getting old.
- I’ll never be a writer.
- I’ve wasted my life. Fuckers.
- I need to get kempt again. I am unkempt. My hair a mess, sleeping pattern a mess, not changing clothes. Not bothering to cook, to eat, to exercise -losing weight drastically. I weigh as much as I did as a teenager.
- Mum rang and I missed it, I need to ring her back, it’s been 3 days now. With the phonecall always comes the memories, yay, so always put it off till it becomes that giant spider in the back of your mind, wiggling its legs. Till I pull them off.
- Need to go shopping, the fridge is getting bleak and that jar of mayo lonely. Need to get out of the house. Need to go for a walk. Need to breathe fresh air and open the curtains and see the shitting daytime.
- Need to buy some medical equipment I won’t go into, about 400 squidaroonies.
- Need to apply for that job D sent me. Another epic, soul-destroying slog for 5 hours, signifying nothing.
- Need to drag myself off from the Net. I am netted, often living vicariously through youtube, watching people go on trips and chat about shit.
- Need to be sociable and hang out more in the living room or kitchen and be the life and fucking soul. Need to be happy.
- Need to write this piece of shit.
Oh fuck my life. Don’t need a fucking hug. Tomorrow’s another day and all that, yeah.