Today was a tough day.
This shit that is going on in my mind is too big for my brain. I think some important synapse might give way any second. I have no idea what a synapse is but I’m sure I’ve heard it on BBC2.
I’m exhausted: I woke around 5 am yesterday morning and couldn’t get back to sleep. Early morning waking is as bad as full blown insomnia: the tease of two hours’ fitful sleep is nearly worse than a night with none.
I was teaching all afternoon into the evening and I was glad of the distraction. The opportunity to focus on something positive and current rather than stew in a steam of rancour and regret caused by the continuation of contact from a certain ex. When I’m belligerant of mood I seem to use a lot of alliteration.
I am so annoyed that I let myself be dragged back into any sort of discussion with him today. I am also malevolent in my thoughts towards him but, for my own sake – nothing that I feel or think will ever impact him, or likely has truly ever been of consequence to him – I need to let it seep out. I had hoped that Body Combatting my imagined hologram of his smug demeanour would mark the end of yet another final chapter in our turbulent history, but no: today brought yet more and perhaps, deeper buried wretchedness to the fore.
It’s a rotten thing to be faced with the possibility that you hate someone.
Especially if it’s someone who you thought you loved. There should be a special word reserved for the emotion of more than loving someone: when you feel like they are part of you; like your very existence is dependent on their essence; your DNA is only complete by the chromosome of their presence; they are the Thunderbolt charger to your iSoul.
Maybe there is a word for that kind of “love” and maybe that word is addiction.
There is no way I am going to let him, or anybody or thing connected to him, ruin one more day of mine. He’ll never view the crushed landscape of our relationship from the same vantage point as me and that’s because we were never one person, with one set of eyes.
Today, I also heard a name connected to The Thing That Happened When I Was 16 today and I honestly felt like someone had pulled one of my own Body Combat moves on my gut. It’s bad enough when his family members come up as friend suggestions or comment on local links and mutual friends’ photos but today, it was just fuel for my pyre of wrath.
I had hoped that in the absence of a Body Attack class, writing might help and it has, I think. It’s now almost 2 am and I’ve sacrificed enough of my time to the past over these last few days already.