annanotbob2's Diaryland Diary
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With Bob film
Today has been mega-hard and I don't really know why so I'll see if it comes out in the telling. I'm keeping this as a record to report back to my GP - it probably won't be interesting.
Woke up, at YD's, pissing down with rain, no desire to get up and deal with public transport, but great desire to not be there any more. She's been working on getting the flat straight, resulting in every surface (including the floor) piled with stuff, so nowhere comfortable to sit and horrid to be surrounded by it all. I did some helping, but there's not much another person can actually do. This morning she was deep into uni stuff when I got up and the BF was on his way home (from his parents'), so off into the rain I went, with no breakfast (couldn't get it together) and stupid canvas shoes.
Arrived at station and unravelled over the train fare, which since privatisation has been a fucking joke but one that completely freaks me out when I'm a bit close to the edge. I bought a day return on Sat for �10, thinking I could get another today to come home with. No. Today an off-peak day return is �29.90 and a single is �21.80. Now I've written it down I don't know why I got in such a state - I mean they're obviously ridiculously expensive but we knew that.
It didn't help that I had over thirty minutes to wait for my train, on the windy platform, soaking wet and wanting more than anything to break down in tears, like I'd felt all day yesterday, but also not going to, not here, not sobbing on a railway station - and only now do I remember that book 'By Grand Central Station I Sat Down and Wept.' But I didn't, not there, nor at New Cross Gate. I took this pic for the photo-a-day. Topic: 'angle'
The trains I took were both full so I had to sit near people, which I managed by keeping myself absolutely rigid - I can see in retrospect. My teeth still hurt from my jaw being clamped tight.
Bloke met me at the station. I fell into the car and finally wept, huge, scary (to him) weeping. Which is shit, because he really can't take any more, what with all the crap going on with his dad but in this real world there is no one else that offers me comfort and support and I try my best to make it reciprocal but sometimes (like today) I can only see my own needs. He drove me home, went to the shop to get me some supplies then fucked off.
Since then I've had all sorts of good moments via the internet - I won a prize over at Poolie's, Acorn tweeted that she's posted me a CD and Stepfie invited me to a gig and these are what I am trying to hold in my head.
I lit a fire, using wood I found in the street, had yet another pie for my tea, but with a mountain of veg, tried and failed to chill out, took a valium, but I've taken too many recently so it only had a tiny effect.
Tomorrow I will see R, my counsellor, which feels like a life-belt being thrown towards me. I just have to get there. There's some aspect of this J Saville stuff that makes me feel dirty and ashamed. It's colouring everything right now but I can't look at it alone.
It's hard to write gratitudes when I'm like this, but it feels important.
Grateful for: Bloke; friends; my camera; a photo project; ha - and right here, right now, getting a film of that poxy cat
Hope I've linked it properly. Good night xx
11:51 p.m. - 08.10.12
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