This is the second consecutive evening where I’ve sat at my laptop in the hope of writing my homework, which is due for the class tomorrow evening. I’m still staring at a blank page, unable to find those all important first words.
I have ‘prompt’, plucked from a page within a national newspaper. I kind of know what I want to write about (or, at least, one direction in which these words could travel). I just cannot think clearly enough. I want to get it through my fingers, the keyboard and on to the screen but, something’s blocking me.
There is the ever-present fear that I’ll have to read aloud and share this with the rest of the class (something I narrowly avoided last week and, for the first time) but, I know what else is distracting me tonight and, I think you do too.
Yep, it’s her. I’m still feeling the disappointment of Saturday morning; the expectation that I’m going to lose her (if I haven’t already) to this unappreciative bastard to whom she keeps relentlessly falling back towards. I’ve learnt three things about him this week that have only lowered my opinion of him but, I’m not going to share them here. She took a turn for the worse last week; stating on Facebook that she was deactivating her profile for good, quoting it as “all kinds of a relationship destroyer“, which, to me, resonates with her fiancé’s erratic behaviour (not to mention his alias account, hiding behind an inanimate stuffed monkey). She also said how she can’t find the time of day or effort to have any real friends.
She’s sunk a long way from our conversation on the phone last Wednesday. Last night, I asked if she was okay but received a response asking me to leave her alone (depression – I’ve seen that before). She’s re-emerged on Facebook today but I’m fighting to urge to contact her. Saturday’s forecast is good, which opens an opportunity in my mind for us to go out and do something.
If I write to her at the wrong time, I’ll feel even worse. If I don’t do anything at all, I’ll feel no different to my current state. If I wait too long, I don’t know. I’m very aware and honest now about the fact that this whole situation is affecting me. Walking on a Sunday provides a welcome distraction (and, with other people). This week has been so difficult, following the “rejection” of Saturday.
I want to try and write a poem to let out some of my thoughts. Maybe I should write another letter. In doing that though, I’ll only drift further away from my intended writing. I’ll still be behind, wishing I had another day, just for me. Actually, I wish that the torrential flooding in our area continues tomorrow, so that I can at least excuse myself from making the journey to class…
My sleep has been disturbed since Friday morning, when I was awoken at 4.50am (an hour early). Saturday morning, I was awake around a similar time, full of hope and expectation (also, anxiety). Sunday was the same, in preparation for my first group walk. Monday and Tuesday included. I haven’t felt tired, only still but restless; watching for the minutes to pass.
- Scrambled brain cells? (doggonedmysteries.wordpress.com)