I’ve had a rubbish day. Nothing really happened. I had a day off, tidied the house, watched a film, got up to do more chores but found myself sat next to the radiator, crying my eyes out, with Ozzy’s face completely perplexed and wondering “what do I do?”
I’ve been feeling like this on and off for a week now, today was the fourth or fifth tearful episode. I decided not to tell D – he has had enough on his plate recently – but today, I felt isolated, alone and like I couldn’t cope. I texted him – he had finished work for the day and was local to me in the pub – he came home and cuddled me. We then proceeded to pig out at our local chippy after I’d calmed myself down (not even a shower helped) and we have spent the last two hours, napping, which is something I do not do on my day off, because that’s a waste of hours.
The worse thing about the current emotional state I’m in? I don’t know why. There is no particular trigger. My current work state right now is driving me mad; I am not enjoying working in the pub and I just want to get started with my business (training will be starting mid-January and I’ve been talking about it since August). I am tired, not through not sleeping but through caring too much about what is just a stepping stone in the right direction. I haven’t many friends around where I live (in fact, I only have maybe two that I’d consider close friends) but I haven’t seen them for ages and I just feel on my own.
I feel ugly, I feel fat. But those, I’m 95% sure, are feelings that most women feel at one time or another. In fact, at work, a couple of customers told me I looked like I’d lost weight, even though the scales haven’t budged a single pound for the last month. I feel worthless, like I don’t deserve to go out and live. I feel like I’m just existing on a poor wage, paying my bills, sleeping and getting up for work the next day. I feel like I’m wasting days.
The fact is, I have nothing to really complain about. I have a roof over my head, food in my belly. I have my health, I have a job. My family are all happy and healthy. I’m in a loving relationship, with someone who loves and cares about me (enough to leave the pub, ha) and I love and care about him. I’m not ungrateful, I’m just in a funk. I don’t know how to fix it, because I don’t know what’s causing it. But maybe I just need to cry. And that’s okay too.
I know I’ll probably look back on this next week and cringe at the thought of my feeling down. But I think that sometimes, when things are getting on top of you, something has to give. And for me and my currently tight, red eyeballs, that’s the release of tears.