and I've spent much of the past ten days emotionally stable. I had very few mood swings and my remarks to the doctor during my two-week review were positive, along the lines of "definite improvement" and "obvious stabilisation". One thing it hasn't sorted out is my sleep, and the doctor seemed to think the citalopram would help settle that down too within four weeks of starting it. I'm reasonably sure that won't be the case but she asked me to come and see her again if not, so there's hope for something to help me sleep if it doesn't settle soon. I'm hoping to get curtains up today or tomorrow - certainly going to go and buy the gear later and get started on getting them up so they're sorted for this weekend, anyway. First light is around 5.15am at the moment and I reckon getting curtains up will aid sleep in general, particularly getting to my alarm which I feel is most important at the moment.
Anyway, this post isn't specifically about sleep, it's about the effect of the pills. This has come to mind because I had a mood crash while talking to Tess this morning. It was over something that I've crashed about before, but it was so pronounced I noticed it when held-up against the relative stability of the past ten days.
It started innocuously enough. I stated that I missed her, and felt the little tug at the hole between my chest and my stomach again. Nothing new there, and nothing I can't handle. We talked about my visit, and how it'd be a year from my leaving in November to our next meeting at the end of summer/start of autumn 2012:
me: I'll have to wait a year to see you once I leave
Tess: if we're lucky
me: God don't say that
There I was feeling a little gutted it'd be a year, when I was reminded of the fact that yes, without a fair amount of luck, hard graft and saving a year could well be the minimum time we'll be apart. It could be much longer. My mood crashed pretty rapidly. It wasn't Tess's fault, she was just reminding us of the realities of our situation, but it really affected my mood. As I said, it was an obvious crash after noticeable stability so I'm here to explore the feelings behind that a little.
We're both scared of the fact that nothing's certain. We're both fearful of the time spent apart. I can't speak for Tess but for me there's a number of reasons: that maybe the more we're apart the harder it'll be for us to love each other, that we'll drift apart, one of us will change our minds or fall for someone else. Tess'll berate me for saying that but it's true, they're all possibilities. Of course, the greater possibilities are that we'll stick it out and be stronger than ever and settle down in the future and things will be wonderful; the point being that the uncertainty about our long-term future is making all these short-term uncertainties seem like a bigger deal than they probably are.
I think, along with the inability to physically be with Tess, to touch and hold, to comfort and reassure and to feel bodily warmth in all its wonderful forms, the hardest thing I'm personally dealing with is the uncertainty. For example: I know I've got almost exactly six months until I can put my arse on a plane and get over to be with her for a month, but can I put that six months into mental context? No. If it was a week, maybe two, it'd seem measurable, but I guess it's like getting humans to visualise a billion stars; it's just not mentally possible to put measure and foresee six months in human terms. So when we start talking about a year after that, maybe longer, my brain kind of goes "My god! That's so long! What the fuck is longer than a fortnight?! ARGH!" and starts a bit of a mental meltdown.
I've just downloaded a year planner PDF for 2011 and emailed it to the bureau for printing onto an A3 sheet. I'll stick it on my desk at home and cross the days out; that way I get a visual representation of how long has been and how long to go. I think that's a great idea as my mind does work somewhat logically like that, despite all the emotional bullshit I post here sometimes.
Actually, that in itself is all quite reassuring. Part of the stress comes from not really understanding the timescales involved and I feel that having a visual representation like this will really help put things into context. I'm not even particularly freaked-out in seeing that there's still six months to go - part of me's going "Only six months? FUUUUCK!" but that's just my money brain talking.
Anyway, I already feel a little better about that. I've also just got onto my housing trust manager and kicked his arse for some things that are holding me back - mainly that I don't have readings and serial numbers for my services so bills are piling up. I've kind of run out of time and enthusiasm for writing now but I might just revisit this in the future if the concept of time bugs me as much as it did earlier.
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