So after hiding out in Fort Megan seeking shelter from the anticipation that Tuesday was about to inevitably arrive, I finally surrendered and took half a diazepam in addition to my usual nightly meds.
When Tuesday politely tapped me a few on the cheek to gently stir me from my valium-induced sleep, he fluffed up my pillows and approached me cautiously whilst handing me my first morning coffee. Greatful for my slow induction, I almost forgot about the woes of its presence representing itself in my mind as ‘another day of feeling a bit doom-y‘ and got on with the morning. This girl has stuff to do, and this stuff is going to get done! It only took about an hour before the irrevelant anxiety of facing the day took a seat in the front and started steering my whole psych.
It went a little bit like this….
Megan: Today I will force myself to look presentable and actually make sure my daughter has breakfast (which is a battle in itself) before I pop her in the car seat and take her to nursery. We will drive along with the radio playing in the background like normal mother’s do, whilst I plan the rest of the morning casually dedicating my spare time for cleaning the house, doing washingy things with my clothes and hey lets even go a little crazy here and put the bins outside….Parenting WIN. I am an adult, and I am proud. I have bills and stuff to pay, and other adulty things like polish my fireplace, scrub the mildew from my shower head with an old toothbrush and pull some chicken out of the freezer.
Psych: “Hey you! Yes you over there, driving in the car that you are struggling to pay for pretending you are like every other normal human being on the planet who has responsibilities and stuff! Really who are you kidding – flapping around like you are actually going to go home and wash up the dishes that have been lying there for days, like you wont just get home and sorrowfully look at the washing basket, shrug and then wear the same clothes over once again… Pfft, I bet you wont even attempt to shave your legs this week!”
And now I am camping back out in Fort Megan with my hairy legs, bingeing away on a bowl of cold cous cous (it’s a bit dry) and a bag of left over sweets I found in the back of my cupboard (which amusingly is labelled as ‘LOADSA SWEETS’), having failed to prep any dinner again and decided it would be a better decision to just give up on the night instead.
What has been going on with me the past few days??
I cannot make sense of the way I am feeling, I want to hide away from the world and retreat. I was feeling fine on Monday morning. Now I am a regressing grown adult who has aimlessly built a cool fortress in her bedroom and is using it as her armour from the rest of the world, and stubbornly won’t invite her friends to play. Fuck you responsibilities and priorities, you will NEVER find me in here!!
Why. What is the purpose behind my actions. This is a stupid plan which will probably fall apart come Thursday when I have to put my ‘Scientisty’ face on at work and DO things to change the world. I bet Schrodinger didn’t create a ‘cool ass’ den and call it his Enterprise, and hide out in there like an immature little child. No, he had cat’s to kill. Shit needed to be done.
I’m going to take some more pills now and give my mentality a rest.