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j4THANK YOU to ![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
brrm for the little model of pto452 which arrived in the post this morning -- I was very much in need of cheering up and that really made me grin.
New Oysterband CD from play.com arrived in the post this morning. It's been a long time since I've bought an album where I knew over half the songs on it already from live performances. Listening to that is helping a bit too.
Otherwise though things are really not great. I feel ongoingly ill -- stomach is still bad, the heat isn't helping, and I'm not sleeping properly at all: partly because I'm too hot, partly because I don't get to bed till late, and partly because when I do go to bed ... well, we turn the lights out and "go to sleep", and I lie there crying quietly and wondering whethersion_a will notice that I'm crying, and then resenting the fact that he doesn't notice, and then wondering if I really want him to notice, because he's not going to be able to say anything that helps, and most of the time he won't say anything and I'll wonder if he's asleep or ignoring me or "just thinking" or just not knowing what to say. I fall asleep somewhere after 2am, and if I remember my dreams they're usually chaotic and shot through with anxiety.
And when I wake up I find I didn't want to wake up. I don't want to go to work; it's not as if I get anything done when I'm there, and even if I worked non-stop I'd still be doing useless work that doesn't benefit anybody. But I don't want to stay in bed, I don't want to stay at home ("home"), I don't know what I want to do except just lie down and stop. I want to run away, but I don't know where, and if I could run away, I wouldn't need to run away.
I feel like I'm losing touch with nearly everybody, even the people I still see. I feel like the conversations I'm having with them are becoming less and less meaningful; and they feel forced, false, futile. Losing touch with people who are still there is a strange experience; it's like when you're sitting on a train, and the train next to you starts to move, and for a moment you're not sure whether you're moving away or being moved away from. ... I'm still not sure. I think I'll only know for certain when the flatlands all around me fall away like melting snow.
brrm for the little model of pto452 which arrived in the post this morning -- I was very much in need of cheering up and that really made me grin. New Oysterband CD from play.com arrived in the post this morning. It's been a long time since I've bought an album where I knew over half the songs on it already from live performances. Listening to that is helping a bit too.
Otherwise though things are really not great. I feel ongoingly ill -- stomach is still bad, the heat isn't helping, and I'm not sleeping properly at all: partly because I'm too hot, partly because I don't get to bed till late, and partly because when I do go to bed ... well, we turn the lights out and "go to sleep", and I lie there crying quietly and wondering whether
sion_a will notice that I'm crying, and then resenting the fact that he doesn't notice, and then wondering if I really want him to notice, because he's not going to be able to say anything that helps, and most of the time he won't say anything and I'll wonder if he's asleep or ignoring me or "just thinking" or just not knowing what to say. I fall asleep somewhere after 2am, and if I remember my dreams they're usually chaotic and shot through with anxiety.And when I wake up I find I didn't want to wake up. I don't want to go to work; it's not as if I get anything done when I'm there, and even if I worked non-stop I'd still be doing useless work that doesn't benefit anybody. But I don't want to stay in bed, I don't want to stay at home ("home"), I don't know what I want to do except just lie down and stop. I want to run away, but I don't know where, and if I could run away, I wouldn't need to run away.
I feel like I'm losing touch with nearly everybody, even the people I still see. I feel like the conversations I'm having with them are becoming less and less meaningful; and they feel forced, false, futile. Losing touch with people who are still there is a strange experience; it's like when you're sitting on a train, and the train next to you starts to move, and for a moment you're not sure whether you're moving away or being moved away from. ... I'm still not sure. I think I'll only know for certain when the flatlands all around me fall away like melting snow.
