Saturday, 3 October 2009

Just want to whine today

I've been trundling along in a state of low-level OKness for a couple of weeks.
Not good, not bad. Just OK.
I don't mind that. I can live with OK. Really I can.

But last night a friend was taken into hospital with a heart attack and I could feel the ground starting to give way again.
Fortunately it is looking now as though this was just a warning shot across his bows, and he is going to be alright, but the leaden lump is back in my stomach and I have been crying on and off all day.

Add to that the fact that it is Saturday and I have to work to get this horrible job finished, and it has given me a headache. The weather is cold, wet and windy and I have forgotten to order any heating oil, so I can't put the central heating on. Plus the electrician made a hole in my office ceiling to put in some lights and hasn't closed it up again yet, so I have gusts of wind blowing over me as I'm trying to work.

Then there is a bunch of forms I have to fill in for the solicitor to do with R's estate. I just hate, hate, hate doing this - it feels as though I am trying to turn R into money. I know it is stupid, and heaven knows I need to get this sorted, but every time I look at the forms I just start crying again.

I'm cold, tired, sad and lonely and missing him so much.
Today I don't want to do this coping business any more.
I just want to go to bed, pull the covers up over my head and stay there for a week.


  1. Your words describe exactly where I have been on numerous days during the past years. My list of "hated" chores and tasks was different but in the end, the emotions came down to how you are also feeling.

    Maybe some days we are just not meant to cope. We do a valiant job most days. Maybe when we feel this way we should just pack it all up and say the heck to what can be left undone and redirect the focus onto us - heating up some soup or tea (or something stronger). Resting in bed with the covers over us until our headache subsides. Starting a juicy bestseller that will allow us to escape and distract us for a bit.

    It is useless to try and talk someone out of this place when you're there but I know most people want to do so because they are uncomfortable when others are feeling this low. So what I will say instead is to ride out this storm and to be as kind and gentle to yourself as possible with some self-nurturing and pampering. Maybe times like this are signs that we need to take a break from the strength and hard work of coping. Please take care.

  2. Listen, my dear. DO spend as much time in bed snuggled under the covers as you can.
    I wish I could hug you.

  3. Oh J - I wish I could come and sit by you, not even to talk necessarily ... but fetch you some hot soup, paracetamol, walk Moose so you could sleep under a cozy quilt (I have a pink bunny rabbit snuggle sack and actually call it my blankie!!! But, since the day my rottweiler tried to shag me when I was inside the thing, I have only ever used it as a throw!)

    Like you, I delayed doing ANYTHING related to money and Cliff ... it was almost as though I was making it real in doing so. And it felt like blood money ... I empathize with exactly what you are saying ... you don't want the f'ing money - you want R. The bank was hounding me daily in the end, to say that they really did need me to just instruct them to pay off the mortgage - the money sat in my current bank account, rotting away, its existance denied by me for two months, perhaps three! As with most of these things, it is hard, but there is a sense of relief after having completed them, as awful and heart-breaking as they are. R would want you to be secure and safe. If it had been you ... you'd be fretting if he wasn't sorting it. But still, I know :-(

    So pleased your friend is out of the woods. But just like when Moose was will, just as when Cliff's dad was diagnosed with skin cancer - it brings the shock, horror, fear and helplessness crashing back down over you, threatening to crush you so hard you can't breath, although, strangely you can cry :-) Of course you are crying. Cry till you don't need to, but keep rubbing those silky ears that Moose lends you on these occasions. Slog ... slog ... hit the deadline, but then PLEASE crash under the duvet okay? I'll delay calling you till mid-week so I don't risk disturbing your sleep/naps.

    You take care, these things bring us to our knees. If you're awake and you WANT to talk, I'm here! Lots love and big hugs xxx

  4. typo - "Moose was will" should read, "Moose was ill". oops! x

  5. Ugh, I had dozens of days like that. I'm so sorry. Cry and blankie sounds like an awesome idea.



  6. @ WitM: Somehow you always seem to find the right words. "Maybe some days we are just not meant to cope." That is so true and, as you say, on those days a bit of kindness goes a long way. Thank you.

    @ CC: A bit of warm snuggling and self-indulgence always helps. And sometimes I really need to be reminded to do it.

    @ Boo: I met the deadline and then crashed. Feeling better now, although I am still avoiding the money stuff. Perhaps tomorrow.
    (And your amorous rottweiler story made me laugh out loud - even while I was still miserable!)

    @ Supa: Yeah, yay for blankies. Even grown-ups need them sometimes!