Good Grief 278

Hypnos, the blighter, is a real problem.
I don't remember when I last slept through the night.
So many years now.
As light starts to filter through, and when I need to be getting up for work, I feel sleep desperately trying to drag me back. It so obviously connects to feelings of safety. As daylight arrives it feels ok to let go of that agitated consciousness.
And now I have week off. And I feel dreadful.
I had a late finish with a referral to do after 5. The corridors were dark and even when I finished I didn't feel like going home. I move around feeling hollow. Apart from working, which I find draining but at least useful in the limited capacity that I have, there is no point and I can't bring myself to care.
As I got home my sister rang to let me know of the family plan for my niece's graduation. They're all London/south so cost and distance make it a bit epic for me. And then there is the long haul of mood, the effort and the blight. So many occasions have been overshadowed by loss. Christmas, followed shortly after by my parents 40th anniversary, both were a horror, sharing a room wth my 12 year old niece just after G had died. Distance is both an obstacle and an excuse.
And rather than looking forward to a week off from the relentlessness of everything I just feel great dread and despair.
Blight feels like the word of the moment.

[sotto voce] It feels very hard as I look out at the blue sky and fluffy white clouds, not to feel guilty for feeling as I do. I know how very unhelpful that is and it deepens despair....I know all this but it is felt all the same.

I know the conveyor belt of the daily regime keeps me going. It may feel like a constant grind but like a leaky lilo it keeps me from sinking into the depths. Holidays, in spite of trying to manage them, just expose that creme brûlée existence and crack that surface veneer all too easily. Ideas of trying to go somewhere, do something, see people, however lovely, stick in my throat and I just want to choke. I just want to stay quietly at home.