Fedded Up...

We always say that to Little B, but today I'm borrowing his phrase.

A lovely drizzly and cold Saturday, luckily I had yesterday off as an Inset day, the only one of the year that we don't have to go in for. I can't say I did a whole lot with it though. 

I ran out of time today really. I went to have my nails done and the owners had their little puppy in his basket in the corner. Apparently he had an infection in his foot and was on antibiotics, and his pain meds were wearing off. He snuggled in his basket, but a few times his whole body shook and shuddered with pain and I found it very upsetting. I can remember how it feels to feel so much pain that you can hardly breathe, hardly speak. I can't bear anything sad like this, and it really upset me, despite him being cuddled by the owners and clearly being well cared for! But I wanted to cry, and could not take my eyes off him the whole time I sat there. 

I rushed home, leaving myself a whole ten minutes to drive to M's place as we were going out tonight. This morning he told me he wanted to leave at 4:30pm and I knew I'd struggle to make it. It's Sinterklaas, well, the celebration anyway as it's not officially until Tuesday, so it was going to be until 2am. I had an inkling that I might not want to stay that long but decided to just see how I felt. 

I'm always tired you see, but I'm starting to wonder if it's more a mental and physical tiredness from feeling overwhelmed and sort of powerless. It took us quite a while to drive up there. It's a bit of a faff, driving to Hammersmith, walking to the tube, and then tube into Soho. We made it there just before half past seven, not before stopping for a Leon hot box (me) and Wasabi for M which we ate sitting on the platform. I never get time to eat before I go out so I usually spend the night with my stomach growling and eating fruit snacks from my bag...

It was a fun night. I danced a little bit but I was really done by 11pm but sort of wanted to stay. But I also spent a lot of time pondering the train times, how I could get my car, get the train and then a taxi and then get my car back tomorrow etc. In the end I decided to just tough it out, and M offered insisted I drink Red Bull, which actually did help.

It was raining when we left at 2am, so we hot-footed it to the tube and then walked the long way back to the car. M brought L back with us, so they walked behind me and I walked a little way ahead. I think it's because deep down I know three's a crowd, and before anyone can make me feel bad/hurt me etc, I remove myself from the situation. I had my hood up and it was so cold it was the kind of walk that has you looking down at every step. I could hear them talking quietly behind me in Dutch, so I slowed a little every so often to check that they were still behind me.

It was actually quite peaceful getting lost in my own thoughts. I wonder if the glory days are over for me. My body is tired, permanently, and my mind is exhausted. I wonder if I've done the going out thing to death, and I know that my focus is shifting. I don't want to be out there trying to 'find' somebody to 'save' me, somebody to make everything ok. I've had some great times, but even tonight, despite meeting some great people (including some gay guys who actually live in the next town to me, and who  were great company and good fun on the dance floor) every time I sit down I look to the door and scan the faces of the crowd, just in case T is there. And yet we're in a better place. If I want to talk to him then I can just text or pick up the phone. But it's not the same, we're not the same. And although I'm not sorry that I met him, far from it, I still wish I could turn the clock back and do things differently. I felt a bit like the lady in Titanic described by the character Jack; i.e.; the old lady who sits at the bar just waiting for her love to come back ;-) Pathetic I know! 

I am jealous of my sister, snuggled up at home on the sofa with her husband and newborn baby no doubt, doing what's right. Whichever way you look at it, it's the expected path that you take in life, and if you haven't found the sign post yet, you're not in the club. And it hurts. It hurts because we all want that closeness with somebody, we're not meant to live life alone. I look at the pictures of Lucy, and my heart breaks a little bit more. How can I love something I don't have myself? And what if I never do? That is terrifying. 

As I walked I started to think that maybe I should just focus on trying to do that myself. I'm not getting any younger, I'm 33 and after a little research on Friday it doesn't look like the NHS is particularly optimistic for anyone over the age of 35. And I know it's something I really want, I always have, but like everything else in my life, I doubt that I could do it. I'm starting to think about getting the ball rolling, but then I imagine the response from family and I feel defeated. It's like every time I try to take a positive step forward, something gets in the way to screw it up.

I had a bust up with my dad the other day, where he yelled at me " You're nearly 40!" Uh, I'm 33......

But it taps into my fears, and he knows that, because one day I really will be 40, and what if I'm still in this rut?

It's the little things that chip away at you. A friend at gym told me her parents had come down for the weekend to stay with her, and had criticised a lot of things which upset her too. I'm a bit closed with people, and I wasn't feeling very happy on my way to the gym tonight, but wasn't going to unload to anybody. But as she started it, I did too. It seems we are both trying to parent our parents, and make them understand how they behaved has affected us. It's the little things, the subliminal messages that small and vulnerable children pick up on. And over time it become the internal dialogue we have with ourselves.

Lucy will be four weeks old next week, and I haven't met her yet. I can't. I just can't. I know it will make me feel worse than I already do. I don't need my dad to beat me up about it, I can do it perfectly well myself. This afternoon we had a bit of a row, and he said I was a disgrace.

Of all the people who needed rescuing from their past, it would be me, and yet this hasn't happened. Why? My life would be better, and happier if I had the things I want, and I don't. 

And you know what, I'm getting too tired to fight anymore. I can't be bothered trying to make it better. I can't sell or rent my house as I can't live here with them. This wasn't the dream I had planned! I hate my job, and they know I hate it, why is why they're trying to get rid of me.

I had a review thing earlier this week, where I had a chance to 'defend' myself.... for what? Arriving two minutes after the agreed time, due to traffic? It's nit picking, pedantic, because they want me gone. Because they know that my ideals do not align with theirs. So they will push, they need to assert their authority. But I didn't volunteer or divulge anything. I can't. Part of that I think is because I'm a private person, and I don't want to air my dirty laundry in front of them. The other part is because in a sense I've given up, and they can see that, so I'm an easy target. Even I was a bit annoyed with myself for not pushing back, but what else is there really to say?

It will likely go to a first warning, and I might appeal it. I'm not sure if it's worth it. When they want to know what's going on with me, how can I explain it? I can't really say "I hate this job, my sister's had a baby, I split up with my boyfriend, not sure if I can have children, family is a nightmare".... sounds a load of nonsense. But they are huge factors that are impinging upon my happiness right now, and that it turn reflects on how I feel about myself and my job. 

It's all got a bit much. I haven't told them that I don't know how I've managed to come to work every day and put a smile on my face and do a good job with the children with all this rolling round in my head. Tears, arguments, bust-ups before work, it goes on and on. But I can't tell them any of that. So they'll just have to believe I'm a pain in the ass who can't get to work on time because she's difficult ;-) 

I haven't been enjoying Blip of late, finding it a chore to write about what's going on for me, good or bad. But even though I shall read this back and probably wish I'd never written it, for now it feels a little better to get it off my chest.

The only slight bit of good news is that I received an email from a publisher requesting that I send them my full manuscript. It was pleasing to be acknowledged- I like to think that somebody thought it was good. But it will likely come to nothing as I sent them all I've written (all 16k words) and I haven't really had time to sit and write any more what with having a full time job although God knows I've amassed a load more material.....

* I didn't finish the story, where I finally arrived home at 4am this morning, which might explain the long and incoherent ramblings of this post and feeling of general weepiness today ;-) 

** Such weepiness reared it's head around 4pm when I came downstairs to find mere remnants of the large triangle of Brie I had bought just a few hours before.... I could have cried......