Tears before bedtime

As much as I had hoped to have a pleasant family evening with a feeling of zest and hope for a better mood, I was wrong!  And I want to document this moment because its proof that with my better day doesn’t always turn into a good night.  I had pushed myself and this only serves to prove that sometimes when you’re trying to do the right thing for right reasons, it can go hopelessly wrong!

I picked up the kids and we all drove back to S’s house.  I knew I was tired, but with my headache giving me a reprieve, I felt physically stronger.  Egg was delighted with her presents.  S had bought her an ipad mini which she was over the moon about and as she thanked her Father, he reminded her to thank me too.  Which felt strange because clearly I hadn’t contributed to the gifts, nor had we shopped together.  And the kids knew that, but she still thanked me and I felt grateful to S for the acknowledgement, but somehow I felt it too obligatory.  Does that make sense or does it sound like I’m complaining over nothing?  This is hard to identify because it’s some parts illness – depression makes everything feel contrived and malicious, off-hand or disingenuine and in part, I might be making mountains out of mole hills.  Still raw from the separation.  Whatever the case, I ended up talking to S about the necklace and then started talking more about my day.  I don’t know why I felt it necessary, but he’s been my best friend, so why not?  He was clearly uninterested, and left me pretty much mid sentence to hurry the kids to get ready. I knew then, I had overstepped a boundary.

The restaurant was very family orientated, so at least I didn’t feel awkward or self-conscious, everyone was too busy with their own kids to worry about what I was or wasn’t doing!  Dinner was strained though.  I felt like the odd man out.  My kids were fantastic, and I LOVED being with them.  But the tension between S and I was so awkward and strained, it felt like a tangible ‘being’ between us.  It felt heavy, ugly, and dense.  It felt like we entered and it was there between us and then back at S’s house, it remained.  Every comment became a dig – by BOTH of us.  I knew I was guilty of that.  He looked at me with a piercing glare when we talked, and I felt inferior, I felt pathetic.  Here was S looking so much better in new clothes, back to his original weight when we met, healthy skin (he usually suffers with eczema on his face), got the money to pay for this lavish dinner and expensive gifts, lots of references to his work, his friends, his career.  And there I am, opposite, the over weight one, the tired and ill one, the boring one, the one making an effort (try hard) with make up.  I haven’t worn make up for so long I felt like a drag queen.  I didn’t have interesting stories to tell, what am I going to talk about?  My Psychiatrist appointment? My medication??  And I’ve not been social, so I can only mention the odd comment I’ve seen on Facebook!  To think, when we first met, I was bubbly, happy, travelling the world, although I had my luggage (metaphorical and literal!) I wasn’t drowning in it.  I was free-spirited, independent, not relying on anyone.  Now, I’m like a fledging, starting a new life on my own – but failing miserably to date.

I was glad when dinner was over.  I over ate, picking because I was awkward.  Which made me hate myself more.  At the cars (we took both) my eldest daughter asked to stay at my house but wanted to get her laptop first.  I obliged her request and we drove in convoy to the house.  There I asked S if there was anyone else, if he was dating.  Why do that to myself I don’t know.  He said no, but his eyes lit up, I wasn’t reading into it, it was clear he had someone in mind.  It’s the first look of excitement and delight I’ve seen on his face for a long time.  I don’t know why it bothered me.  I think because he’s been able to move on so quickly.  There’s no grief period, no regret, just living.  While I waited the tears came.  I don’t doubt that S knew, but chose to avoid me.  I managed to clear up enough to say goodbye to the kids, and wish Egg a happy birthday again.  Tell them I loved them.  My oldest daughter noticed I’d been crying and gave me a hug.  I’m being honest with her.  Its hard.  It IS really hard, and I will cry because its normal.

Tonight I will cry more in bed.  I know I will, I can feel the emotion close to the surface.  Raw, wild, grief.  I’m also shattered and my headache is pounding.  I over extended myself.  I know going out to a mall and then out for dinner is hardly a hard life.  I should get over myself really but I feel there is so much more to those steps.  Interacting with people, paranoid, mind and body addling medication effects, fears, anxiety, and trying to be something strong and dependable for the kids.

I’m miserable tonight.  After such a good day.  And I long to be held, I long to cry out loud to someone, anyone! I want to sleep for months and wake up feeling better, with a life upgrade!

Forever alone?  With misery and self loathing my shadow?

 

 

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3 thoughts on “Tears before bedtime

  1. Going to the mall and then out to dinner would be a lot for me. You aren’t alone. It’s okay. I hope that if tear dos come out at bedtime that they were healing tears and you feel freer, lighter, now. Sending you lots of support and good thoughts. I really hope things feel better soon. Xx💟

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    1. Thanks very much Alice, it’s so nice to hear that I’m not alone. I felt defeated last night and ashamed. But for someone to validate those feelings makes me feel less silly. Today I’m at the hairdresser but I’m absolutely shattered and achy. I feel like everything is a hurdle. I’m still keeping up to date with your blog and I’m rooting for you! Xx

      Liked by 1 person

      1. I’m glad you are feeling a little better, just to know you aren’t silly. I hope that you are feeling cared for at the hairdresser. Thanks for rooting for me. Xx💟

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