I spent all of yesterday feeling like it was Sunday instead of Saturday. I had all the usual “Sunday” symptoms. I dropped just about everything. What I didn’t drop seemed to fall out at me, jump away from me or else somehow managed to escape.
I spent a bit of time reading since my legs were in so much pain. Even the pages in the book conspired against me by either being stubbornly against turning or by trying to turn back. I gave up and spent some time cutting out fabric pieces. Most ended up wonky because nothing was cooperating with me.
I cooked sausages for tea. Every one of them tried to fight my desire for them to turn just so in order that they would cook evenly.
By the end of the evening just about everything was annoying me. As I readied for bed, I tried to be positive and tell myself “At least my “Sunday” is over and out of the way now”.
No such luck!
Today is a “Sunday” proper. On top of the above symptoms, I am also struggling to type properly. I keep making typos and spelling as if I am dyslexic. And I’m not!
I have plenty that needs to get down around the house but I am loathe to start anything under the circumstances. I’m just not keen for a full-on repeat of yesterday’s palaver. It is annoying and frustrating. It makes me wonder if there is something wrong with me. Are my fingers incapable of receiving messages from my brain properly now? I’m sure that’s nonsense but cannot think of anything else to explain why everything I touch goes wonky. Perhaps the stars are not in a good alignment for me. Who knows?
Beyond the irritation, I am also angry. Angry at life for giving me 2 “Sundays” in a row. I feel unfairly penalised. What have I done to deserve this double sentence? I feel victimised, mistreated and abused. Can I not just have a pleasant Sunday for once? Please?
I can’t think right today. I cannot focus or concentrate. I guess it is no wonder that I am also lacking motivation. The heating is still not fixed. I don’t know why that has my spirits down. I feel like life is at a standstill until it is repaired. I had wanted to do some grocery shopping yesterday but waited in for the landlord to come. Their handyman came but couldn’t fix it. He called the landlord to come take a look as he thinks it is an electrical problem. Landlord never came. He didn’t call either. This morning I got a text that someone else will be round this afternoon. So I am waiting in again to try and avoid another cold night.
It wasn’t the cold that kept me up last night though. My legs were painful and I couldn’t get comfortable enough in bed. But that wasn’t the main problem either. It was my mind running, thinking, and imagining. I couldn’t stop it. I tried reading as that usually helps but it didn’t. I tried playing a game on Facebook but it kept messing up so only served to annoy me. The last I looked the clock said 3.30am. I have no idea when I actually fell asleep. I woke up again at 9 feeling worse than before. The sleep had been restless instead of relaxing.
I had spoken to him on the phone earlier and couldn’t stop thinking of him ever since. Laying alone in our bed in a cold dark room, I reminisced about the nights he lay next to me. I tried to imagine him there – his presence, his breathing, his scent. I even tried to imagine his snoring which had kept me awake so many nights. My mind would not stop creating these thoughts. I tried to shake them off. I knew they were impeding sleep. But they persisted. Trying to remember how it felt when we cuddled up in the “spoons” position, imagining a repeat of the nights when he would say “I can’t sleep” which was his way (sometimes) of saying he wanted to make love … those dark nights of sleepy sex.
Last night I could neither stop the thoughts nor could I get absorbed in the fantasy. It was frustrating. It still is. Although these thoughts are not completely consuming in the light of day, they are still there. They are distracting me. I am still trying to shove them away. I don’t like allowing myself to dream. It is like wishing for something you have no control over. Blind hope. Dreams don’t come true for me. I get left yearning for something that will never happen.