I’m a bit of a bad blogger and I’ve become very good at ‘avoiding’ this blog and those of yours I now feel unable to catch up with (the e-mails arrive weekly and remain unread, before they’re replaced by a new set, seven-days later).
I don’t know how to describe how I am, how I’ve been or how I’m feeling. Up and down is about as close as I can get… I’m just ‘coping’ with things but it doesn’t feel positive. It’s awkward, each day at work is uncomfortable. I try to keep sight of the weekend but it then takes me hours to get out of the bed and to get moving (these low temperatures in the early morning are not helping).
We’ve just had a Bank Holiday weekend in the UK… Saturday, I don’t remember much of whatever I did at home but it was lunchtime by the time I ate “breakfast”. Sunday started much in the same way but I did manage to force myself out for a little walk at lunchtime and soon found myself meditating (if only for ten-minutes) on top of a tall and windy hill with other people moving around me. Actually, I did feel good walking the descent. But that changed when I got home and, on Monday, I felt a kind of ‘illness’ that I cannot describe… I lay in bed until 1pm. I felt all kinds of ‘awful’ for the rest of the day. So many thoughts spinning around inside; I’ve begun to contemplate some terrible things of late (a reason I’m avoiding this blog) and, to be honest, I keep looking for an ‘excuse’ to walk out of my job (as I did in 2007) and to then maybe run myself down…
All that time spent lying idly in bed (awake from 5am not sleeping and un-tired) has lent me plenty of time to think and I feel I’ve made a couple of stark realisations…
I don’t want to help myself. I don’t really want help.
Seeing a counsellor was like ‘somewhere to go’; an afternoon meeting up with someone to talk to for an hour. Like a friend that I couldn’t fully trust. Some techniques did ‘help’ me but I don’t know if I really wanted that. I didn’t make it an open secret that I was seeing a counsellor but I liked being able to say to myself that ‘I am honest enough to seek help’…
Likewise, I enjoyed going out to the group sessions that ended recently and I do plan to do another course in July. It was somewhere to go with random people to see. I had an ‘existence’ after work, for one evening each week. A reason to come home at the end of that day. I appeared to be actively working on helping myself yet, I haven’t made any real effort to put any of those techniques in to practice and I don’t feel as though I want to.
Do I really want to help myself? Is it really worth the effort? I’ve never truly believed that I will ever be ‘better’ but I don’t think I’ve revealed that here before. Ever since I was 5 years old, I’ve had thoughts that tell me it is ‘okay’ not to live in to old age… I feel like I have done for the past decade; as if I’m waiting for another reason (an excuse) to take that step in to the ‘destiny’ I’ve believed in for nearly a quarter of a century.
I’ll still be here tomorrow and I expect I’ll still be here to turn 30 in two-years time. Why? Because of fear and guilt.
There are a few and very certain people who I couldn’t bear to ‘leave’ in this world. Whatever follows this life, I couldn’t handle the guilt of letting them down.
I think it was Monday morning when I came to another realisation… What I’ve loved most about ‘May’ in the twelve-months that I’ve known her is how she is the only person who has ever made me feel loved. There are many issues and divides within my entire family. Apparently, I find it hard to trust friends and I know I don’t take compliments or praise very well. With her and having known her, I’ve felt more than appreciated. We’ve never been more than friends and yet, I can’t say this for whatever I did or didn’t feel with my ex. I probably do look for it in a person but, two of my closest friends are female and yet, it’s different. I love her but I also fear for her and I don’t know if that will ever change.
My mind’s clouding over as I write all of this but the reason I’m avoiding this blog is because I’m afraid of revealing that I am failing. I know that, at least for the first four-months, I appeared to making positive and steady progress. There’s been less of that to share since Christmas. I feel like people look to me for inspiration and hope but I worry about what it does to me when I come here to write. Am I becoming more ‘Brandon’ than whoever I am away from the computer screen? I feel like I owe you an ‘explanation’ with this post.
A regular thought I’ve been having on the way to work each morning is that, one day, I’ll just keep on driving and I won’t turn right.