Right where it belongs

How many times can I get knocked down? That seems to be the poser at the moment.
I was going to write this blog entry with some fairly good news today but receiving another installment of my divorce papers kinda put a dampener on that. I wondered if I'd sensed its arrival as last night I went to bed feeling a bit anxious and awoke very tired. I stumbled downstairs to see my mother with a letter. She'd held it back knowing what my reaction would be. I opened it up and yeh, there it was. Words mentioned like, my behavior, irretrievably broken down, dissolved, all went into my head but didn't stick floating around like alphabetti-spaghetti.
For the first time in well, I dunno, probably since I was a kid, I actually sat close and rested my head on my mum's shoulder, tears followed. Same day different... no wait, same s*&t.
And all this after my last weekend where I saw her and had no response or anything from her. Barely a look in my direction. I looked in hers and could see, or maybe it was just me, that she looked different, her face seemed changed. It was the eyes. They seemed harder somehow. But I suppose I would say that wouldn't I?
Wandering around the supermarket earlier today I felt like I did the first month I was fully submerged in the black; stifled, anxious, lost, like I was swimming in a waterless swimming pool full of clear treacle, able to see and breathe but submerged into another place, inside a looking glass peering outwards.
All the while my mind kept reminding me and taunting me of my failures, the failure to keep the marriage, the failure to even live a stable day to day existence and the failure to even keep to some sort of commitment or simple activity. For example, I was due out this weekend but felt so tired and empty that that wasn't going to happen. Once again I fall out. Oh dear. This is getting to be a habit and a bad one at that.
So, back to my usual then. Drown myself aurally in music, eat a bit, try and not focus on SI and bounce between sleeping very little and then sleeping too much.

Yesterday...

No happy ending...

"This is the way you left me,
I'm not pretending.
No hope, no love, no glory,
No Happy Ending.
This is the way that we love,
Like it's forever.
Then live the rest of our life,
But not together.

Wake up in the morning, stumble on my life
Can't get no love without sacrifice
If anything should happen, I guess I wish you well
A little bit of heaven, but a little bit of hell

This is the hardest story that I've ever told
No hope, or love, or glory
Happy endings gone forever more
I feel as if I'm wastin'
And I'm wastin' everyday"

Mika: Happy Ending

Every day is exactly the same

Some days I wonder why I even bother carrying on. If I had no loved ones, what little are left that is, would I actually be bothering or would I have tried to do it and finally keep those voices silent by doing the ultimate? It’s something I wonder about especially during days like today. I awoke  in the morning and then fell asleep again and throughout until late afternoon I felt so tired and down, listless even that aside from reading a page or 2 or a Richard Dawkins book and listening to the Manics I did very little else. A bit of food, dry biccies until I got together a veg’ laden meal in the evening. Much tea too despite the warm weather. If it wasn’t for watching the Olympics my existence would be pretty minimal. It is anyway but it’d be even worse. Hmmm, maybe I’m being optimistic here and it really is. I can barely get up of a day and I am struggling. Again. I’m not sure what to do. A small cause is the fact that I may well see my former at the weekend at a place where we first met. I have to go but, damn!  am I nervous about it. More for the fact that I’ll have to see her and know that she’ll either blank me, not talk to me or both. I need to go but I do know the closer I get to it the harder it’ll be. But I have to move on, either with going there or my life in general. Life isn’t right now. It mostly consists of me not sleeping/over sleeping/wondering what I’m going to do next or constantly letting my mind mull over her. I can still barely believe the way I let the slow demise by pass me. The almost casual nature with which I took her leaving. The packing, the sign outside the door on our return from a mutual trip, the visits from others wanting the house now we (mostly she) were leaving. Memories of her crying and in pain when she was ill plague me like an irritating ulcer twisting the mental knife of torment, reminding me of good times and bad times together. A song here, a trip there or a future plan we were making all still keep throwing themselves to the front of my mind, mostly at night, regardless of whether I want them or not. At the time of it happening I was using bravado and bollocks to get by and the initial novelty, stupid I know, of being single but it didn’t last long and now I’m trying to make sense of it all which I doubt I will. ‘Closure’? Nuts to that word ‘closure’. It means nowt to me and seems like another pop psychology way of quantifying and categorising feelings, thoughts and actions. There will be no closure as it will always go on until time has given me distance enough away from it.

 At the time, deep down I knew resistance was futile (very Borg like eh?) but blimey, the effects of it now are being so keenly felt I can’t comprehend. I was in one state of affairs with a wife and future and now I’m in another with well, nothing. Ok, I have a room at my parents so it’s not awful awful but where I was and where I now am, well it ain’t far. But yeh, it could be worse but does that help me right now? F%$£ no!

So tonight I’m going to try an old trick of mine that I tried when I had insomnia years ago and that was just not go to bed. Wait it out and see in the morn awake rather than wait and think as per usual. It will mean I’m near wasted tomorrow but hopefully it’ll help me out for the coming weekend. I can write this, take in the morning sunrise and maybe get a run in too, exercise has been poorly executed by me recently and I used to love working out but at the moment it isn’t really a priority. What is? Not much to be honest and even if it were I doubt I’d have much enthusiasm or energy for it right now. I am in a dark deep hole and I don’t know how to get out. Or maybe I do but just don’t want to. Yet. Only the Lord Poseidon really knows the answer. Or is it that tube of coloured choc drops that does?

A relevant meme

The Daisy Award

The lovely coconut cream that is Halfway between the gutter and the stars has nominated me for a daisy award. So following the protocol for such things....
Many thanks to Halfway, very sweet and kind of you.

And now 7 unusal-ish things about me then...

1: I like dry foods, such as digestives, some cereal bars, rusks, crackers etc. And in some cases brekkie cereal too. That being sans milk.

2: I love cinnamon, not in a weird fetish way just in coffee and brekkie cereals. Hence my recent trips to that big coffee golden arch type chain, the one named after a bod in ‘Moby Dick’. They have cinnamon! Lots of it too.

3: I really like red heads and girls with fringes close to their eye line.

4: I love new trainer smell.

5: I love the colour hot pink. Goes great with black. And sometimes I like clothing that has OTT colours regardless of whether or not it suits me.

6: I collect too many mugs and novelty alarm clocks.

7: Sunrises, sunsets, the stars, the open sea, I can gawp and stare at them without getting bored and feel a nice calming sense of peace when I do. In fact with regards to the stars I used to stare at them and hope to be abducted from some far away galaxy. It never happened though.

As I don't really know any other blogs I hereby nominate this one for its total honesty, openness and emotional writing style that makes you think, makes you smile, frown and best of all makes you think yeh, me too!

Halfway between the Gutter and the Stars

And this one for being open and honest about mental illness and well, for being a read head :)

RedheadCase blog

Just gotta stay positive?

Words. So many of them spoken, so many of them meaningless, so many of them meaningful, so many of them hurtful. And then there’s the words that were meaningful but just remain air and vibrations.

‘You are my life.’

‘You’re safe and loved’

‘We can get though this’

They might as well have been scrawled on a beach for all their worth now.

Today I received what I think is the final divorce paper. With the title of the respondent, me, I have been found to have had an  ‘…unreasonable behaviour which has led to the marriage irretrievably breaking down.’

So, I think that’s it. Not only do I have to get through this I now have to get through this knowing it’s down to my mental illness this has happened. Great.

Reading it tears began to flow and I did my usual of lying down on my bed and plugging into some suitable tunes whilst sleep grazing. My mind did its usual. As it did one thought occurred if I hadn’t had been taken down with this damn black would things been different? Would I now still be in a marriage? My imagination took hold and I kept thinking of the possibilities of what could have been, what I would have said to myself if I could have done a ‘Marty Mcfly’ and gone back to have a word with myself. Saying that what would have I said?

‘Those fears that are hidden? Those you daren’t even think about? Well, they may come back and see her? She’ll do one.’

Oh yeh, great, real helpful that! That would’ve been enough to push me into it anyway so what good would that’ve done? So here I am. I started off the year badly and very down. Now? Well, not much has changed and in some respects it has gotten worse because my partner left me and I don’t know what to do. The strong feelings of ending it came again on Saturday but the thing is I felt quite numb to it all when thinking about it, not angry or violent or anything extreme just complete numbness like my whole body had gone to sleep. Wandering around the shops at one point I felt like Zach Braff does in ‘Garden State’ that bit where he’s sat on the couch and all those people are moving and doing things around him with him looking on? I didn’t do anything but walk and that seemed to help some. Better than leaping off into the river anyhow. It’s filthy in there.

Today I wanted to run away, where? Lord knows. I had the same on Saturday. I was having a bad day and after a listless meeting with friends, they were tired too, I came back home and walked past old haunts; places I hadn’t been through in a long long time. It felt a little odd, almost like walking back in time and after that I walked and walked until hunger and fatigue brought me home. I was tempted to go further and today I wondered if I could have walked to the coast, on and on until I could see the sea, lose myself in nature and fatigue. Sounded good but practical? Only the great Lord Zeus knows that. And well, probably me really. I think I think too much.

Song of the week: The Streets: Stay Positive

She's not there

Although I really hate throwing  up, I mean really hate it, to the point of holding it back when it starts to erupt and making possessed like noises like a drowning demon when it finally does erupt, some days I wish I could vomit, binge and purge myself of her memory; a mental emptying but that’s not going to happen. It’d be as hopeless as trying to rid myself of any memory good or bad. But the urge is still there.  I had another dream about her. This time she was pregnant and shacking up with a co-friend and then she wanted to get back with me. All very odd but significant is as much as it shows my subconscious is trying to find some sort of peace for itself and therefore me because right now there is none. Or if there is it patchy. I don’t know where I can go with this now, these thoughts and feelings. I baulk at counselling as I don’t think it’s me, truly I don’t. Talking about it has helped but ultimately I can only see time and me riding out this storm coming somewhere to helping but that will take time, who knows how much? And also a lot of discomfort. One minute she was part of my life, 7 years and now because of my black she isn’t and that’ shard to take because although she has hurt me terribly I still do miss her. Luckily friends and family are understanding but how long will that last? I sometimes worry that even the Samaritans will get bored of me.