Thinking about it, I've been on a bit of an up-and-down routine for a few months now. This past few days are the lowest I've felt for a fair while, even getting to the edge of tears while trying to explain myself in simple terms to daughter.
Our weekend plans were simple: relax on Saturday, shopping in the city on Sunday so daughter could spend her Christmas vouchers. Saturday went off without a hitch, but Sunday was scuppered by the lack of buses running on the last day of the week. What a joke.
By the second half of Sunday I was really rather bored. As the cupboards were almost bare I walked into town to relieve the monotony and stock up for dinner. While wandering around the shop I spotted a two-litre bottle of Diamond White and slipped it into my basket with hardly a second thought.
The buying of alcohol was preempted before I'd even left the house. I'd imagined a bottle of white wine, or a four-pack of lager, but I was instantly gravitated towards the mind-rot. Drinking is something I used to do to keep entertained and get through loneliness and boredom, but I'd worked on losing the habit after daughter came to live because I didn't want to be tipsy around her. Now, here I was wandering back home with dinner, treats and a little treat for myself.
I was reasonably good, apart from the actual act of drinking it. I waited an hour or two before starting it, making it a more realistic 6pm with dinner drink instead of 4pm with crisps. I took it pretty steady because daughter was up until 8pm and I didn't want to get merry with her around.
Jesus, I really don't like myself for drinking it. I told myself 'That's enough' after the first litre but soon polished-off the second. I stayed up too late, drank too much shit strong alcohol and ruined myself for the next day and, it seems, for the following few too.
Today is Thursday. I worked Monday feeling rough in the morning but better after some food. I stayed up too late for my hangover Monday night and called in sick Tuesday morning for no reason other than I felt really, really sorry for myself. I compounded this by keeping the curtains drawn and spending all day under the duvet snoozing, watching uninspiring tv and playing uninspiring games. I battled with my self-pity all day, determined to get back to work on Wednesday so I get paid a reasonable amount next week.
That night, I texted my boss and told him I wouldn't be in the following day, Wednesday. This was incredibly stupid, but seemed to feed some cheeky juvenile part of me that enjoyed 'bunking off' at school, not that I did it that much as a kid. It's terrible behaviour and something I've done enough in the past to see for what it is - it's an attempt to sabotage myself and make things worse, possibly as a form of punishment.
I spent Wednesday slouched on the mattress under the duvet until shortly before daughter came home from school. She'd asked a few questions in the morning which made it obvious she didn't really believe I was ill and were probing to see what was wrong and when I'd be going back to work. Bless her, she was worried about me and about money, so I tried to put her mind at rest a bit in the evening and hopefully I managed it. It did make a few things clear to me though:
Staying at home when I'm feeling low is incredibly counter-productive.
I'm still very lonely, despite having daughter around. I'm craving companionship and longing for someone to share the work at home and, I hate to admit, to share the responsibility of being a parent. There've been a couple of occasions recently where I've glimpsed the wonderful benefits of having someone else as part of the family, or felt like I'm somewhat overloaded both with menial tasks (even though realistically I'm not) and emotionally. I've never missed having a partner so much as I do now I'm a parent, and it scares me somewhat to admit that. It's not even like I'm looking for a mother for daughter - maybe I just need a bit of a break. Even a couple of days would be handy, with or without daughter. I've known for a while I need a holiday, and all this brings it home a little.
Anyway, that was Wednesday evening and I subsequently told my boss I'd be at work today and here I sit, destroying my soul for a few quid. Man, I fucking hate this job, and should use this motivation to push my business plan forward and try to secure some funds to get it off the ground.
This morning I felt rubbish but having sat here and bashed this post out I feel a bit better. It's been more than two weeks since my last post and I think I need to keep the momentum going and post more regularly because I do find it a useful outlet when I've got noone to talk to, which seems like most of the time at the moment. That's my own fault of course, and I should make an effort to find someone to talk to - maybe I'll email today to see if I can get an appointment with the CPN.
I also need to pull my finger out and get forms sent off for housing benefit, council housing and get my appointment sorted with the solicitor. This latter point may have contributed in a noticeable way to my low period as I cancelled a planned appointment on Tuesday because I felt so crap. This is a huge priority and it's bugging me that the legal process isn't underway - perhaps pointing to a more deep-seated fear related to a rumour about daughter's mother's determination to get her back.
To be continued...
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