This morning I am unbearable. All I want to do is cry, all I want to be is invisible, all I want to be is in bed. I grit my teeth and swore dreadful words to myself in the mirror as I applied my makeup clumsily. I wished myself dead. I punched at the top of my thighs, an old relief trick from back when I was a teenager. I curl up in on myself and try and take deep breaths before I do more damage to myself.
Yes, haven’t felt like this for, wow, a month? Maybe more. Fuck my body. And fuck my phone for not letting me type the word ‘fuck’ - I know I want to say a bad word goddamn it.
I try and keep it together by watching TedTalks and it does distract me but as soon as I have to multitask, forget about it. I’m going to keep myself so busy today at work doing only the mundane and pray that I can get through without a single tear.
It’s a shame because nothing has happened and I’m wasting so much energy before the day has even begun.
I had a wonderful chat with Dad last night who put my mind at ease. I just wish I could have him in my ear throughout the whole day, giving me the encouragement I need - a 28 year old woman, Jesus Christ. Still needing her dads hand to hold. And I gave Phil stick yesterday for being a mummas boy, pot kettle much? Or whatever that phrase is, I never got it.
I haven’t yet read his message...okay, now I have and it was wonderful. I can tell that he is cheerful and that’s lovely to read.
I will write my reply today as I get to my desk and what shall I do exquisitely? Lie! Lie about how I really feel. Yes, that’s good, don’t want to be burdening him with any of my anxieties or problems, or hey, anyone else for that matter. I will continue to carry around this dreadful mood alone and bury it deep within so it slowly distorts my view of myself and continue saying terrible things in the mirror as I look on and try and sweep it all away...business as usual.
I’m going to try and listen to comedy. I’ve got to force myself out of this awful, awful, awfulness.
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