Sunday, 10 February 2019

Daddy high on music, and more

Ed says 'how are you, Bell?' because she knows about the court meeting last week, and I say 'oh, I felt really okay after it, but I don't know, I'm not feeling horrible or anything, but I can't do anything useful for a few days now and I only sleep and sleep' and Ed say 'well, pardon my French, you're depressed' and I start crying, and when you're crying it's a good thing because you know you hit the spot, and how blind can I make myself, pretending for a full week that I'm not feeling sad and paying all the prices for that pretending in ways as loud as sleeping 16 hours and failing to work or find joy in anything? Thank the gods for Ed.


They call it 'brain fog' and I thought it's just because I sleep too much or don't go out much, but turns out that your brain does it when there's something you avoid doing in your to-do list that's weighing on you, or when there's something heavy on our heart which we're pretending is not there. Brain fog, heart fog, procrastination fog; all the same. Good to remember.

Solutions: Do that thing; confront that emotion; and, at any case, always, do half an hour of exercise. That, they say in the guide I found, always works. I believe them.

I dreamt about Meegy again.I don't think he knows how much he means to me. I don't think I knew, either, locked as those feelings were when we fell apart years ago. I put it in a box and it was a niggle I could ignore, but when I sleep my brain springs it out on me; there's a battle, or a LARP, there's many people I don't trust or enjoy, and there's Meegy and because my brain is subtle that way, Meegy is glowing bright white, as if lit by moonlight. Thank you, brain. Such finness.

So I wrote three resolutions for today: 
  1. Finish that gnome commission which I committed to finish last Saturday
  2. Work for one hour only on that Scarlet commission (it's how you do stuff you don't feel like doing; you limit the time you have to spend on it. The hardest thing to do, says my teacher, is to generate motion; take the first step, only one, and that's progress).
  3. Write that bloody emotion letter and confront that sadness, dammit, and just the thought of that scares me. I thought I'd go and look at pictures of Xhusband, and the thought made my chest feel as if it's imploding. Oh, it's there. How could I have pretended it's not? I'm so scared.

Sleeping for only ten hours felt like progress. Woke up, determined to fulfill my obligations; had a missed call from daddy so called him. Oh, my. Oh, this was. The best thing in months. The best. So best I want to highlight it in animated Geocities pink. 

Daddy is seventy five. He's obese, and a lonely widower for the past 13 years, and a soldier with some stuff that should really have given him PTSD but didn't. Daddy is also the most passionate person I have ever met, and he just got a streamer and youtubed his favourite music to his huge screen TV, and when I called him he was simply high, tripping without chemicals, exploding with excitement and passion. 'I can't stop dancing!' he yelled, Yanni exploding in the background. 'WOW! WOW!!' and we spoke for an hour, during which he melts, and laughs, and bursts out with exclamations when Vivaldi starts, and I can hear him moving, erratically as my daddy always does, obese or not; he's been at it for an hour before, at it for an hour more as we spoke and I listened to him, knowing well that nobody in the world understands the way he feels the way I do, that nobody in the world knows how I feel the way he does; when I get up and dance because I can't help it, as if it's some primal spell, I've been doing it all my life; and so has he, only for years he didn't feel like it; but now, with the music visualized on the screen, he does. He was utterly high; it was... the best. The best.


We hang up and I discovered that during that phone call I'd done the dishes, cleaned the kitchen, made tea, prepared two hookahs, cleaned the hookah paraphernalia, swept the floor and made the bed. I was also crying half the time, because joyed as I am to hear him this way, Ed removed my wall with that one sentence of hers and I know I'm sad, so deeply sad, and it's weird to be so awed and happy to hear daddy like this while simultaneously feeling like there's a pit of tears inside my chest. Now everything is ready; I'll finish the gnome picture; I'll work for an hour on the Scarlet commission; and then I'll sit and write that sadness, and maybe look at pictures of Xhusband - gods, that's so scary, I'm so scared - and perhaps manage to clear the fog from my mind. 

Thursday, 7 February 2019

Nope. Didn't write that letter. Who's a pwizk chicken? Why, yes you are, Bell! Yes, you are.

Wednesday, 6 February 2019

I'm not alone; I have me.

Meeting went okay. It was nice to see Xhusband; I love him very much, and even meeting to finalize the details of our parting forever doesn't make me feel less love for him. I'm also okay with this breakup, somehow; the life I built without him is nice, and he's no longer the person I need, even though I miss the sweetness of living with him, the sweetness which is him. 

It was good to get that part over with; we just need to go to court and sign the divorce papers now, which will happen once he gets all the required papers. 

The meeting was good and I did it like a champ and once he vanished in the street I could stop being emergency Bell and allow my feelings out so I started crying, because okay or not, it's all just very sad. I don't know how to handle such big feelings without self harm, but I'm far too old for self harm, and I don't want to pay the social price that goes with it; so I got a bottle of girly wine and drank half of it, which was self harm enough for someone who didn't get drunk since 2003, and then I slept for 16 hours and woke up better, if still very sad. 

It was good, it was one step more towards the closure and I feel the relief, but there's also this big, tearful sadness inside and I don't know how to handle it or what to do with it. It feels like homework and it feels like I can't do it alone, but the only people I can imagine being the thing I need for this live in the States, and crying in one's lap doesn't work by proxy. 

There was some TED talk where the woman said "just then, when I was at the very bottom of my life, all alone on the floor, I realized: I wasn't alone; I had me." That sentence stuck with me. I mean - I'm not alone - at all, I have family and friends, all of whom are truly amazing and support me emotionally and physically through any hard time - it's just that I don't feel comfortable falling entirely apart with any of those who are currently around; but in this space where nobody else is, I'm still not alone - I have me. 

And 'me' is a bloody good person to have around during crises. When it's someone else I'm usually a war machine; I handle everything material that needs handling, I provide both comfort and practical advice, I'm organized and empathetic, reliable and problem-solving. I just have to treat Bell as a person I'm helping through a crisis. I just have to stop being afraid of being in pain and letting myself feel it. 

Alright, here's my resolution for tonight: write those feelings. Write them for 40 minutes non stop, that's the advice I'd give someone feeling like me right now. It's tough, I'd tell them, but it is likely to grant great relief. 

Alright then, coach-Bell. I'll do that, tonight after school. And I trust you to be there and collect my pieces after I fall apart. 

Sunday, 3 February 2019


One way to keep one's happiness levels up is to be grateful for things, big and small. I've not been sad today; that is - I guess I am, but I numbed most feelings with a TV binge, for which I'm grateful. I'm also so, so grateful for the anti depressants; I think this past week would have been quite bad without them, and today bordering on terrible. As it is, it passed in odd detachment, like a smooth surface over a turbulent sea I know is there, but can choose whether I want to dive in or not; and I chose not to - I'll see what goes on tomorrow in the divorce thing and then make an educated choice as to when I want to process it. Because ignoring it and just waiting for it to go away on its own is harmful.

I couldn't shower today. I'm scared the feelings will surface when I'm there alone - they always do - but there's no shame in asking for help when you're like that, so Ghouls will come over tomorrow and will chat with me as I shower. It's good to have good friends. And it's okay to be down sometimes.

I also wrote Xhusband a sweet farewell letter. That's what I mean about the pills; I don't think I could have written it without falling apart, were it not for the pills. As it is - I really don't understand it, but I wrote it calmly, in five minutes, no tears, no feelings at all, really - I mean, they're there, but again, I can choose when to deal with them. 

I hope - I'd pray if I was a believer - that his life will be wonderful. And I hope this is as much a closure as I dare hope it is, that I can let go of what was the most beautiful chapter of my life and start anew, hopefully into a chapter that's even better. 

Saturday, 2 February 2019

Today I did... nothing useful. 

I was fine when I woke up; there was sunshine, it wasn't too late, but then a single line from an acquaintance somehow caused me to lose interest in anything. I really hope this is only stress about the legal divorce meeting; otherwise I don't understand why my ability to tolerate people who behave in ways I don't enjoy dropped to zero. And if it is stress I can't tell, because I'm so scared of confronting it that I just glide the days away, trying to avoid the possible pain. I know it's dumb - yes, the only way is through, I know, Ray - but this one has a deadline and I'm so scared of depression. 

Then again, you know you're hitting the nail just right when talking about it makes you cry, and I'm crying now. I guess it is the stress about that thing. 

Well, only two more days. 

So I watched some junk; I fiddled a little with Blender but couldn't get anything done; I levelled my paladin in Warcraft and then the hunter, the monk and the priest until I ran out of stuff to do; I roleplayed a little but my mood is so odd I couldn't keep in character with my timid, chaste nun, and she ended up being almost short tempered so I had to go; but I'm grateful there's Warcraft to keep me occupied when my mind is out there like that, because the alternative would be to stay in bed, and we all know that bummer and remaining in bed is a certain way to make things worse.

I wish I'd showered today. I even snapped at Ghoula on the phone when she was being all alarmingly energetic and all productive and... I just - I don't want to do anything. I could use a hug, but whenever I'm hugged - at least since the breakup - I end up feeling so uncomfortable with it. Weird. There's only a few people I can think of in whose lap I'd feel okay crying - Lolla, oddly enough, and Ray, and... oh, I don't know. 

I'm not depressed. This is just stress. Suppressed stress. And hopefully it will be over in two days, forever, and that will be it. And it's okay to be down, and it's okay not to do anything for two days. I can spend the night with a book, and if it gets too late then with a pill, and I can spend tomorrow binge-watching some junk and doing daily quests and... just glide through this and hope it passes. And if, a week from tomorrow, it hasn't passed, I'll call Magical Coach and deal with this professionally. I'm not falling into that pit again.  

Wednesday, 30 January 2019

Still with the mood, only it's not swinging now, it's just a bit down. As if the pills stopped working. Is it all because of the divorce attorney meeting I asked the ex to have much further in the future, but without saying a word he just had the law send me a demand to show up in court? I hope that's the reason, and when that's done this sadness will be over. 

And I think that, because I'm not letting myself touch and process it, it's surfacing everywhere; at least, I hope that's why I keep feeling overwhelming loneliness; in the guild, online, I feel so very alone and it's as if my ability to gracefully contain behaviour I disapprove of completely vanished. More than half the things people say or do grate on my nerves; I seem to be seeing the bad instead of the good in every action, and it makes the world feel empty and hopeless, as if everyone is so self centered, so lacking social awareness, kindness or care. Where has my ability to accommodate this gone? I'm going through a rough time that makes me cranky, who's to say they aren't? And besides, I'm certain it's just my mood that highlights and exaggerates the negative qualities. Half the stuff that seems intolerable to me is likely not even there. 

Tonight's dreams were unpleasant. There's a difference between bad dreams and nightmares, or night terrors; the latter, as far as I know, is the kind you wake up form screaming, or choking, or crying, heart racing and what not. I think I had those less than ten times in my life. Tonight only had one bordering on that - I woke up scared and miserable with heart pounding, then immediately went back to sleep again. I can't remember the details, but I was having a fight with daddy; and mum was there (she's always there) and wasn't helping. Then there were a few more dreams, regular unpleasant dreams, the only one of which I remember was the last; I was coming over to visit Meegy, sweet, sweet Meegy whom I've never actually met, and he was there and his family was lovely, but I only yearned for some quiet time alone with him and it didn't happen, kept not happening. There were always people around; family, Ro, cousins, even his kind parents, but I just wanted to hide under his kind arm, as if I'm the child and he's the protective grown up who loves me, and feel loved, or wanted, or some solace. But when we finally got a minute alone he told me he had an abscess in his lung, and he looked so scared, and nothing mattered much then - the loneliness and fear somehow ended up in a small box in the back of my head and I became the practical I-will-fix-this war machine I become in emergencies, and I told him not to worry, I will find a way to fix this, and I did; something with the UK medical system and talking to the right people and insisting some, and he was to be given the right treatment and it would all be okay; but he was then waken away and I was left, knowing that he's going to be fine and happy, but all alone with my contained loneliness and nobody to talk to. 

The upside was that all this frustration with seeing the bad in people got me ditching the roleplaying early last night, and I was in bed by midnight, and slept during the night and got some nice daytime. But the sleep was so irregular because of the dreams that I'm tired even though I spent ten hours in bed. And all those scared tears are locked inside and I don't know how to lance the cyst and let all this puss out without it hurting very much. I know I should just face it, perhaps talk, perhaps write, but I'm all alone and I'm scared. 

There's school in three hours. There's a part of me that doesn't want to go, I just want to hide in bed, from the world, but I know that's exactly the opposite of what I need to do when I'm depressed; and besides, there's no catching up on lessons one missed in school. I will go, and it will be good. But right now I just sit here with this roiling feeling of helplessness and hopelessness inside, and I just want it all over. 

Saturday, 26 January 2019

A week of mood swings,  but not half as bad as they used to be (before I got over this crisis, and before the medicine). Still, your time of the month cliche, only with anger replaced with sadness. Not terrible. And I've been negating it with the cool tricks from class, and it works. 

There's something not okay with my body for four months now - a few new symptoms which aren't too uncomfortable to handle, but they all showed up together pretty much on one day, and I've been neglecting the doctor appointments; but these past few days it kicked up a notch - it's like - I can tell something's wrong, but I can't put my finger on it. It might just be a very mild flu (yay, vaccines) - but I think it's a good reminder to treat this body as if I love it, and give it the medical attention it needs. 

All that after next Monday, which is a meeting with a solicitor, entirely not by my choice, to finalize the official papers; I'm not ready to see him, because I'm so hurt and appalled that I'll likely end up saying mean things and - here's what's making me cry - the thought of his beloved face contorting in hurt breaks my heart. It literally makes me feel a little ill. And I asked for more time but he didn't answer; instead, I got that letter from the lawyer, summoning me to court on penalty of whatever. 

So that might be related to feeling a bit sick for a few days, I think. And try all the positive thinking that I might (this really is for the best, even if it was done in a way less considerate and respectful than I'd hoped; it will do me good to formalize it and snap the last ties; better sooner than later, etc etc) I can't help the dreams, none of which is about getting back together, all of which is being surprised for the worst by something he is doing, feeling betrayed and mildly heartbroken. 

Yes, this might be related. But I haven't eaten in a couple of days; I should eat. Women who treat their body lovingly feed it when needed.