I'm doing a little better these days -
I think.
I dont cry on
public transport anymore, I dont go to bed with
sore abs from the constant low-level
anxiety attack that has
been
twisting my stomach all day. I am eating again, I am going to the gym, I am starting to get back the weight I lost.
Then again I'm not sure its actually better - just
different. I am
numb now. flat. I still have periods of
abject misery and
I am finding that I indulge in some
quite strange behaviour.
I seem to be looking for excuses to be miserable.
The other day, while walking home from work I
imagined that I bought myself a
puppy ( not even remotely feasible
since my
lease specifically disallows pets, but
anyway). I imagined looking after that puppy, naming him, training him, laughing at his awkwardness
with his
over-sized paws. Then I imagined that he was run over.
I imagined finding him lying
broken and bloody by the side of the road. I built on this, Imagining little details, embellishing until I was
totally distraught.
Crying over a puppy I don't even have.
Another time I imagined I received a
phone call to tell me my mother had died suddenly.
Im not sure what all this means. Perhaps
subconsciously I think I should be over
her by now. I dont feel that I should be miserable about
her anymore so I invent
one of these
anti-fantasies to be miserable about.
Then again, perhaps its not really anything to do with
her anymore.
Perhaps
its gone further than that now.
Do you know how far this has gone?
Just how damaged have I become?
When I think I can overcome
It runs even deeper
Nine Inch Nails -
The Fragile