Something’s Got to Give

Not focussed, lack of concentration, irritable, angry, sad, lack of motivation – do I go on? Stressed? Maybe.

Just when I think I’m getting myself together I find I’m not. It hasn’t helped not being well for the past couple of days. It started at work yesterday and then I felt incredibly tired and irritable in the afternoon and I think it showed. Last night I felt sick and nauseous and eventually threw up. This morning I felt achey and tired and spent half the day sleeping on and off. Needless to say I didn’t go to work. I was reluctant to phone in sick as I thought it would be seen as a reaction to the way I behaved yesterday but eventually I couldn’t care less. I wouldn’t have been able to work effectively anyway.

I’ve been toying with the idea of going to the doctors and seeing if I can get myself signed off. I know all the symptoms of stress and think I’m actually suffering with them anyway. I’ve had nothing back from my email to Shelagh a few weeks ago regarding a de-brief meeting and still feel I am hanging on to all the stuff from Stevenage. I know she read the email but she never replied.

The friends I’ve known the longest have been no bloody help. None of them have phoned to see how I am. Tanya, Loretta and Maxine are more likely to do that. I’m not always very good at asking for help and think I can manage by myself. I seem to close down and keep it all in. Not good. Something’s got to give – or is it giving already?


Nile moved out on Thursday.

There was no rush as far as I was concerned but Nile decided (quite rightly) that it might be better for both of us if he moved all at once. Steve and Barbara came down with a van and moved him up to Yas’s. Was I trying to lessen the impact by drawing out the process, or would I have been trying to stave off the ending? His things would have still been here … so he would still have been here. Fear of endings? Sort of. But from endings spring new beginnings, they just come quicker when the ending is short-lived.

It was more difficult than I thought it would be to look in the back room when I got home from work and see it empty of all his boxes. I’d looked in the back room when he was packing and saw all the boxes piling up but I’d pushed that aside and largely tried to ignore the process. Somehow it seemed more real to see the room empty. I didn’t go to work the following day and ended up completely rearranging the bedroom. I needed to take out my frustration somewhere and I felt the need to make the place feel like mine. It would also be a contrast to the empty room at the back.

I could prattle on about how pleased I am with the bedroom now but I’m not here to do that. I’m not going to work anything much out at the moment apart from the fact I’ve identified feelings of failure, loss, sadness, relief, liberation, peace, loneliness and anger. I think that will do as a list for now. To put it bluntly I don’t know if I’m on my head or my arse much at the moment.

I’d been aware all along that I hadn’t helped him pack and I couldn’t. Every time I thought of it I felt as though it would seem I wanted him to do it quicker and I didn’t. I would also feel as though I was packing him up and sending him on his way and that wasn’t my intention either. It felt difficult to step forward and I’m not totally sure why yet. The day he took it all away I was working a late shift and left home just after Steve and Barbara arrived. Nile sent me a text later to say they were on their way to London. Luckily I was working on my own that evening as I got more uptight with the anticipation of going home as the evening wore on. I took it out on the office by tidying up and doing some admin. I think I had a drink (alcohol … of course) not long after I got in.