In the theme of the previous blog post for progress to be re-established, I think complete honesty is probably for the best.
Last week I had a wake up call at PT Pete’s. I’ve put on somewhere approaching two stone in about four months. On reflection, I’ve probably been ill for all of those four months. I’ve been struggling to establish healthy coping stategies, (the bulimia has raised its head again – never a good sign). It’s all gone to ratshit and all of the good work I have done with Peter has been undone.
I’ve got excuses for all of these things happening. But for things to change, they need to be recognised for what they are.
So there, it has been said. Acknowledgement of a problem has taken place, it is written down and now action needs to occur.
But first, I think I also need to give time to the reasons why this has happened. Essentially, give some time to the excuses. Not so they will be extinguished forever, I’m a realist at the end of the day, but because I think looking them in the face takes away the mystery and puts them in their rightful place.
And oh God! Right now, I’m really struggling to find the words to say exactly what I want to. Thoughts are clouded in fog and indecisiveness. I need to prioritise and stop this lurching through life in complete crisis management, but inertia seems to be tracking us where ever we go and no matter what we do. It’s exhausting.
So, I said a few weeks ago that Alans reappearance on Facebook caused a regression in my mental health.
Well, he has successfully managed to invade pretty much every part of my life, and no matter how much I try to get away, he is ever present. His smiling face holding onto Hella, was a reminder of how much I’m still struggling to establish a status quo while I sort out the mess of the old life. Al was never very good in recognising we had legal responsibilities, that didn’t just disappear because he wanted them to. He blamed the businesses for all of our issues and constantly dreamed of running away, but escape was never that simple.
And it certainly didn’t help when he appeared in Costa in person to tell me all about his new life when I’d managed to secure a rare quiet moment. And then throw in that he’d applied for the decree absolute for good measure. That was enough to finish me off, and I walked out in tears, once again rueing again a loss of a marriage and the loss of a quiet time to gain some peace of mind.
The absolute arrived last week – at least I think it did, I haven’t had the courage to open it yet. At some point it will provide me with closure and an opportunity to move on. At some point…
But while homelessness is once again impending, and I’ve been ill with a chest infection and the fibromyalgia is so bad I sometimes can’t walk properly and I’m struggling to find time to manage two businesses, never mind eat properly or sleep or even read a few pages of a book and just desperately want it to stop. Well, it’s no wonder.
A few nights ago, as I deserately tried to drift off to sleep I started to fantasise about slipping that noose around my neck. Pulling it tight, slowly cutting off the circulation to my head until I slipped into blissful quiet, dark oblivion from which I wouldn’t need to return. It would all finally be over. And the thing that bothered me, is rather than scare me, it felt like a really good idea, a viable option.
Of course, I wouldn’t. I’m not a quitter, life will get better, it always does and just as the sun shines bright after a storm, the future with G looks brilliant.
So, just as I would stand at the start line of an marathon with nothing more than the first three miles in my head. I toe the start of this line again. With no other thought than to be kind to myself and to G. As long as I can take small steps with love in my heart, and I have faith, the big stuff will come.
Life is an adventure and it is that which shapes us and makes us strong. And by the time we have finished, we will be strong enough to face anything and that is a good thought indeed.