Yesterday was a great day. I wanted to write yesterday but I was so busy doing whatever I was doing at full speed that I never got round to it. I would have written - and just like that, today is a great day. I feel vibrant and full of life and can't wait to get out into the world and breathe in the day's experience. It was the children's first day back at school after summer holidays so that might have been a large contributory factor. I decided to screw the housework (which I never do) and went into Wigan for a wander. I'm always so stressed out about money that I never go to shops, but today I wanted to be out in the world doing what normal people who don't stress about money do. I didn't spend a lot, but it felt great to give myself the option. This is possibly the hugest issues about my life now. Not necessarily lack of money or location, lack of options, it sucks the life out of me, I need to feel free. So Nikki and I went into every shop and tried on everything we felt like. I came home with new biker boots which I absolutely love and no lining paper which is what I was meant to go out for. Everything I miss so desperately from my old life didn't seem so desperate.
And just like that, today is not a good day. I woke up tired, but I'm always tired so that can't be it, and once again the thought of going through the daily motions made my head heavy. When we got downstairs Adan knocked over the ironing board and bumped into me. It didn't hurt that much but I shouted at him and burst into tears. I cried my way through making breakfast.
If there was some pattern or trigger that I could figure out, at least I'd be prepared and I could talk myself through it until the time I knew the sun would come up again. This is why I've started writing. I'm hoping that at some point a pattern will emerge and I can start trying to understand myself and my life. Or maybe I really am as crazy as I think and there won't be any pattern? Or are the crazy people only the ones who don't know they're crazy which means I'm not? Maybe I'm just completely narcissistic and need to shut up and get over myself? I'd be happy to accept that conclusion if someone told me that was the truth and I could stop my head from being so bloody frantic all of the time. Or are the "crazy" ones the ones who just plod along telling themselves that plodding is an acceptable existence and my diagnosis is not crazy, it's just pure realism? I do wonder a lot about the scurrying along of the human race, full of their own self importance and making a million decisions a day that ultimately mean fuck all. Does no-one else see it? And if they do, could they please be my friend so I'd know it wasn't just me. My long shot hope is that by some universal random act, one of the world's top psychiatrists will happen to come across my blog, read my ridiculous ramblings and contact me with their difinitive explanation, and then I'll know what to do and it'll all get better.
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