annanotbob2's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- writing I hate that I don't write when I'm in the thick of it. Apart from it being one of the things I enjoy most in life, it leaves me with no account of what the dark days are truly like, to look back on and maybe learn from. [Yes, I can see that I, an English teacher, ended that sentence with a preposition, but you can fuck off that 'from which I can learn' is better. Language changes, get used to it.] Why don't I write? Partly because I know this blog has readers, some of whom I consider my friends, and I'm ashamed of what feels like self-indulgent crap when I write it down. Partly because I just can't a lot of the time. I'm writing now because I've just read something about how important it was to someone else to keep on blogging through so I've sat here for nearly an hour trying to find a way to start. Partly, the not writing is because I cannot bear articulating negativity and that is all I have. OK, deep breath - write it down - I'm full of can't - it's all about the can't. The worst of which is being entirely unable to let myself rest properly without filling myself up with should. I have a range of activities which historically have made me feel better (yoga, art, morning pages, swimming, or eating healthy food all spring to mind at once), but I just can't. Other things I can't do right now: wash myself, clean my teeth, get dressed before late afternoon (if at all), brush my hair, go on a bus without crying from start to finish, stand in a queue in a shop without crying, send a text, make a phone call, or answer the phone when I don't know who it is, hang up the washing which I have been re-rinsing on a daily basis (which counts as a positive, as I'm not letting it go mouldy in there), cook anything at all, or eat unless provoked by a third party, drive my car, feel grateful for anything at all, imagine being different to this, deal with my fucked up finances, ask for help. On the plus side, I stayed on that bus yesterday and got myself to acupuncture which I cried all through, then more and more and more but not so much today and here I am writing, so maybe better. I'm having another session this Friday, free, at her suggestion. Today I taxed the car, with Bloke, fresh back from Womad (didn't like it when he wasn't around), then went and had another poke around for that geocache, but couldn't work out the GPS, so still didn't have a proper location and didn't find it. Bloke's phone said "343 feet West", no matter how far west we walked, so that was useless. And I wrote this. Yay. Go me. 12:38 a.m. - 01.08.12 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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