205 Days

This has been the first Christmas period without my Mum. It’s been shit. It’s been more or less as I expected it to be. We have done our best to enjoy the days surrounding Christmas. We had a lovely Christmas dinner on the day itself and we exchanged presents. Family has been visiting and visited for the most part, and we’ve had a few drinks. But in the night times, when all the activity is over, that is when the badness breeds. Yesterday a little bit and definitely today, the days have dragged on and on and the time between getting up and being able to sleep again have been vast.

Today I have literally just sat here at the computer. I’ve done.. Nothing. Nothing at all. Only now I have opened my to-do list and decided to start on one of the tasks I have set myself to complete before the new year. I didn’t expect to be writing this post today. I have literally nothing to say that is of any use to me or anyone else. It sounds a little crass to be stating that ‘I never get to do what I want for New Year, there’s always something that gets in the way of plans, and I can’t stand being stuck at home anymore’. Or it would if I didn’t feel it was still the case.

There are times when I can push away the depression into a box and get on with things during my days. There are times I can do the same with the anxiety. But there are times that they both darken my doorstep at the same time. Those days are hard, and since starting to see a therapist, it’s been a hard slog to not be seeing them over the holiday period. If only for the rest of the day of my sessions, it has been helping a little. There are times however that I feel I am drowning. I cannot get a grip on the sides of the slippery spiral. No matter what I do. I just slide down further. I still don’t believe I have hit ‘rock bottom’ as yet, surprisingly. What I am expecting, I really don’t know. But I still feel I have somewhere to fall.

There are days where I feel like there is an insurmountable obstacle between me and feeling ‘normal’. Whatever ‘normal’ is these days. I worry about how the hell I would handle holding down a job for a start, let alone the physical aspects of being outside and with other people for hours on end. I know, I am not ready yet. But its coming like a freight train. There are some days I feel like I can’t go on. That I’ll never be able to get a handle on things hard enough or long enough to make any meaningful difference. And there are other days where I am just tired. So fed up with life and the way things are going.

Perhaps I’ll catch up with myself and my thought-stream here one day, perhaps some of that is now just lost to the ever-passing of time. I don’t know. I do know however there is still a hell of a lot left to say. Someday.