Tag Archives: exhaustion

Mornings

26 Nov

They’re the worst.

Exhaustion

30 Oct

I don’t sleep much these days, or nights.

I stay up late trying to tire myself out, and then I wake up early thinking about him.

I go to work. Doing a new job is incredibly tiring. You constantly have to be “on”.

In the evenings I try to stay busy with friends, or the gym, or I’m at my counsellor, or I walk home to distract me from things, or I just sit and cry.

On the weekends I get up and go out so I’m not rattling around my flat on my own. I try to stay out most of the day. I tend to have work to catch up on as well. And, of course, a lot of the time I just sit and cry.

I caught my reflection in the mirror earlier. The dark circles under my eyes are like deep caverns. My skin is blotchy. My lips are chapped.

Frankly, I look like crap. And I feel like crap.

I’d like to go to sleep and wake up in 2015.

I’d like to wake up with no anxiety, no echoes of , “I was never in love with you” , no pain, and no memory of him.

What is there to say?

27 Oct

I’m feeling really low. I’m struggling to sleep without my sleeping pills again. I’m even low on inspiration for my blog.

What is there to say?

It’s been 12 weeks.

I still cry nearly every day.

Sometimes I hate him.

Sometimes I hate myself.

I’m so busy trying to distract myself that I’m exhausted.

I’ve seen two therapists.

Two doctors.

Three psychics.

Lost count of the massage therapists.

Nothing really makes me happy anymore.

I’m not even looking forward to Christmas.

I’m angry at myself for sounding so miserable and self-centered.

And I still love him.

Apparently there’s a huge storm about to sweep across the country. I hope it blows the past away.

I’m exhausted

25 Sep

I saw my new counsellor tonight. The moment I met her I liked her, and felt totally at ease with her. She complimented me on my cat socks. I think she’s going to be great for me.

We talked through the whole sorry story. I cried. As I do these days. And at one point she just looked at me, sympathetically but not in a patronising way, and said, “You’re completely exhausted.”

That set off the tears again.

I am so tired.

It’s not just the not sleeping, or the stress of the new job, or constantly trying to think of things to be happy about, or the hours lost to crying. It’s not flying up to Scotland to lie in bed for a week, then back to London, then Scotland for a hen party, then London, then France for a ‘feel better holiday’, then London, then Scotland for Sarah’s wedding, then London.

These things are tiring, yes. But my poor brain is still trying to compute what has actually happened. I’m still going over and over and over and over the same conversations, eight weeks on. Even when I sleep, I have nightmares about it. It’s no wonder I can’t concentrate on anything. My mind is absolutely frazzled.

Much as I’d like to not think about my ex for an hour, or even a half hour, I need to let my brain keep going because we need to work through this together. And sooner or later, we will make sense of it all. This brain came top in its class, got through law school, and has won awards for some pretty great creative work in its time. I trust it. I know we’ll get there.

In the meantime, we’ll keep getting up every morning and dragging ourselves to work. We’ll try to focus, and play around with decidedly mediocre creative ideas. And we’ll go over and over the same things we’ve gone over and over for the past eight weeks.

I thought the worst thing my brain would ever have to go through was my second-year commercial law exam. At least it only lasted three hours.