Wednesday, November 08, 2006

Day 80.1


This came in the post the other day. I thought it rather apt at the time. I didn't open the envelope as there is probably a small animal or child in there needing sponsorship and I prefer to think it was aimed directly at me.

Funnily enough I thought I had a lonely heart at one point, but in fact I think I may have no heart at all. I feel nothing when people say they love me. Not even a twinge - they might as well be telling me the square route of 678. The subject of 'love' came up at my counselling appointment a couple of weeks ago. My counsellor asked me if I felt loved. I said "no". Then felt terribly guilty. And have done for the last two weeks.

How can I possibly say that when my family obviously loves me a great deal - how else would they put up with the crap that they do from me? The point is, I can't feel it. People say "I love you" and there is nothing there. No tug at my heart strings, no flip of my stomach. Looking back, I can't remember when anyone last said "I love you" and I felt something, or indeed when I said it to them. I simply cannot access it, and that scares me a great deal. Does that make me a horrible, horrible person? I think it does.

I think of times when Valentine's Day came around (yes, every year), and I would be so filled with the importance of that day. It was so important to me to declare my love on that day, just like everyone else. I found it abhorrent when people would say "I think it's bullshit", or "my girlfriend/boyfriend knows I love her/him all year round, why do I have to tell her/him on a day defined by Hallmark?". Bravery. Maybe that's what I now think. It's an act of bravery to step away from all this conformity and say it only when you want to, not when others think you should say it.

I think, lately, I have said it less. Primarily because there are less people to say it to. No 'special someone'. It has been an eye opener to say the least. When that envelope came through the door I thought, "Oh! Another lonely soul who has no-one to love is inside that envelope. Someone just like me (desperate)." But now I don't think that's right at all. I am OK on my own with no 'someone special' because I don't want one. It's too complicated and wearing and you only get your heart broken in the end - if you can feel it.

I have spent the last 48 hours surrounded by babies. My oldest friend and my wayward mate have both had babies recently and I visited them both, yesterday and the day before that. I spent three hours yesterday holding a mighty wee thing on my lap. I was always so scared of them before, never wanting to hold them or go near them. Now, they don't scare me. I have spent the last age saying I don't want to have kids, mainly because I think I would be such a crap mother. You can hardly parent from the underside of a duvet? So, maybe I do, maybe I don't. Maybe they don't let heavily medicated people like me have kids?

When I think of the future, which is rare these days, I can only imagine myself having kids alone. No happy families there, in that future of mine. Just a mum and her girls. Just like when I grew up...

A few things have happened over the last few days which have sent me into a tail spin. 1) I got my period. 2) I was awarded Disability Living Allowance. 3) I spent the last 3 evenings drawing.

The first made me cranky, spotty and tired; weepy at times and frustrated with everything. And so did the second and third point.

I feel guilty about the DLA - I don't know why. I feel like I'm drawing attention to myself and that I shouldn't have it, that there should be different rules from me, beacuse I am different. But, it's all above board and yes, I am entitled to it. It is the special DLA for people suffering from mental illness - and there's the rub, the old playmate of doom - do I actually have a mental illness? Then there's the point my mother made - maybe they'll take away my Incapacity Benefit because I now have the DLA. Something else to worry myself sick about...

I was pondering 'where I'm at' this afternoon and I'm scared. I'm scared that I have come so very far away from normality that I will never be able to get back there. What if I forget how to work, or to be part of society? I'm hardly joining in am I, hiding here under my duvet?

The third point - the drawing. Oh dear God it pains me so. I have such preconceptions about what my drawings 'should' look like and then hate what actually, naturally, comes out of me. I have started a project, which is all very self absorbed and self obsessive, but my life and my head are all I seem to have at the moment, so I'm working with the tools God gave me.



I have been drawing rabbits for 3 days and then I found one on my hand.

1 Comments:

Blogger quirky said...

Here's to more green sticker days and Flashdance (that is if you weren't being sarcastic!).

I'm counting thirteen blogs down on each section in NaPloBoMo and commenting. If I counted correctly, your's is 13 down in the "A" section.

All the best

Quirky
AKA Nancy
www.peoplearequirky.com

12:16 am  

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