Ever have those days when your thoughts race from one thought to the next? When your emotions jump from tragic to absolutely fine in a ridiculously short space of time?
It’s been like that today.
This morning was mildly productive for me in terms of getting some work done and yet there seemed to have been a sadness resting in my stomach. Nothing loud or intense, nothing that forced me to pay attention to it. Just existing, lurking like some sort of would be intruder in the background. I wasn’t in the mood to leave the flat, to drive over to my Mothers house and take my little brother to the Cinemas. I wanted to stay curled up on the couch and feel sorry for myself if I’m honest. Clearly despite that I wasn’t about to let the kid down. And you know what? I had a good time. I watched the most ridiculous film (Grown Ups 2) and laughed quite a lot. Man, I love laughing. Isn’t it the best thing to do in the world? It just changes you, relaxes all the muscles that you didn’t even know you were tensing.
It was good. On the way back me and the brother had a chat about lots of random little things. Some of it diet related, some of it slightly heart-breaking, such as him thinking he’s fat and sometimes gets scared to eat chocolate (he is 12, not fat or even a little overweight). I realised I didn’t quite know what to say to him, his thinking already stubborn. Platitudes sounded too hollow. Instead I reminded him that I was always there to talk about anything. I hope he heard me.
Anyway after dropping him back at home, there was still something I needed to do today that I guess I’d been putting off. Today was a loved ones birthday but she’s not here anymore, she died in 2003. I needed to go see her, to talk to her. I guess I was looking for some sort of connection between us but I found my conversation which had always flown easily on these visits to the crematorium over the years seemed to stumble over it myself. This fear crept into my bones in an instant…what if I had made her up? What if she had never even been real? This is obviously ridiculous because she was family, there are photos and memories. I think I know where it came from though, after she died there was this idea going round in my brain that it had all been a nightmare and I was going to wake up at any point, the day never existed. I almost believed myself sometimes. Surely if I could believe that then I could believe the opposite. It comes from panic, when you feel like you’re starting to forget. I’m scared I’m forgetting her. That I don’t know what she would say to me now or feel how her hugs felt.
I just miss her. Some days more than others.
So I think that covers the highlights of my day. I won’t bore you with more details on the ugliness of the eating disorder today. There is nothing new to say, the battle still continues to rise in me as I find myself stuck in the middle, one foot planted firmly in the recovery section whilst the other hovers slightly over the eating disorder side. I am unsure, therefore have every intention of setting up camp and calling it a day for today.
Hope you had a good day, or at least a good moment in it.