I haven’t been blogging because if I were to blog without mentioning the fact that I have been feeling very weird, it would be a fake, forced sort of post, not at all true to what’s going on in my head, and I haven’t felt like blogging about that. But I will now. I still don’t feel like it, but maybe it’s worth writing these things down. Actually, it’s probably self-indulgent and pointless, but I’ve put one foot in it and I’m going to finish what I’ve started.
So. It’s not a good kind of weird. It’s a bad kind of weird. It has nothing to do with people and it has nothing to do with London. London is amazing and I know I’ve made the right move coming here. I miss the people who are far away, but the Internet is keeping me connected, and I’m lucky enough to have a great friend and a great boyfriend living here in London with me, both giving me so much support and companionship that I don’t feel lonely or deprived in any social sense.
If it’s not London and it’s not people, then what the hell is it? I’m not entirely sure. I can identify two aggravating factors: one is my lack of employment and my lack of progress towards finding employment (along with the predictable feelings of uselessness that accompany that whole business), and the other is physical.
When you have been on two very, very expensive and extremely unpleasant six-month courses of Roaccutane (not to mention the appointments with the dermatologist, the blood tests, the contraceptive pill, the antibiotics, and the ridiculously overpriced medicated creams) to sort out your acne problem and then you look in the mirror and your skin is worse than it was when you hit puberty, feeling a little bit bleak about it is possibly justified. It’s a physically painful condition and it punctures my already dodgy self-esteem.
Staying on the topic of my annoying body: my temporomandibular joint disfunction is worse than ever, the maxillofacial specialist’s advice and the dental appointments and the nightly use of my uncomfortable bite plate having had no effect whatsoever. Imagine your face being tense all the time to the point that it gives you headaches and tinnitus and your jaw clicking and cracking every time you open it, sending small, surprisingly loud shock-waves up the side of your skull… I’ve had this for a year and a half now and it’s not going away and sometimes it’s so bad, I’m genuinely concerned that it’s going to make me to lose my mind.
Apart from those two things, the unfamiliar weather has dried my skin out beyond the redemption offered by Nivea, I’ve been having disturbing pains in my legs that have motivated me to read up a little bit too much on the topic of deep vein thrombosis and pulmonary embolisms, and yesterday I got taken down by the mother of all migraines that sent me spiraling down into a pit of woe that, for at least two hours, I was worried I’d never find my way out of. A call from Kasha, and Luc arriving home from work shortly afterwards (plus a number of ibuprofen pills in excess of the recommended daily allowance) brought me back to reality and I was more or less human by suppertime.
All that said, I’ve been unemployed and physically run down before, and I’ve never felt like this. I am currently prone to random crying and I feel like I’m floating around, not exactly making contact with anyone or anything I’m interacting with. I’ve also been really tired. The desire to climb back into bed and go unconscious for a few hours instead of doing anything with my time is sometimes overwhelming. I haven’t written a word of my novel in over a week.
So that’s where I am. I’m in a weird place. I’m not sad, despite what the random crying might suggest. I’m just… weird. But today I showered, I phoned in to apply for a national insurance number, and I even walked to Sainsbury’s to get some essentials, so it’s already a big improvement on yesterday. Maybe tomorrow will be even better, and the next day better than that, and maybe then I’ll blog about something interesting instead of just blogging about myself and my mental health. Boring. Booooooring.
Luc and Kasha and I did go to a park this last weekend. It’s called Morden Hall Park and it’s near to our new place (which is awesome, by the way. I’ll blog about that too, once I’ve taken a few choice pictures). The park was beautiful and we sat on the wild grass that was full of little flowers and soaked up a bit of sunshine. When the sun makes its next appearance, I think I’ll go down there again and soak up a little more. Maybe that’s all I need.