August 31st

 Spent the weekend at my brothers, which was pretty good.

Spent much of the time in various forms of exhaustion.

It's hard. I can do stuff. And I dare say appear normal to people at those times. But it's a real struggle. There is a weight of exhaustion about everything. At best it's like swimming upstream. At worst its a crushing weight that makes you seek bed.

The ever ongoing process of... processing... ticks over. This weekend I reflected that on the whole, this was a pretty miserable way to live. Always swimming upstream from bone deep exhaustion. Hmm. I didn't like where I was. A gloom about my long term health settled.

On the car journey down, I had too much time to think and few to zero distractions.

This, as it turns out, was not good.

About a third of the way in, when the drive had become a monotonous follow the leader down the winding single lane roads of Norfolk, misery, sadness and grief descended pretty hardcore. About all of it. About Ares. About how shit I felt - I was curled up on the sofa into a ball a half hour before I left. Ares last huff of breath filtered through my mind again. Horrible.

I considered stopping in to see a friend.

Didn't in the end. Pushed on. And flipped into disassociation. I wondered what it would be like to just die in a car crash. Just drive off the road. Blip. I wasn't being serious. Or rather. I didn't even come close to doing it. But I considered it.

The weekend went. Busy. Too busy. Pushing past my limits if I am honest. But it was nice. I talked to my sister in law a little about the loss of their dog. I listened. Empathised.

Monday morning was brutal.

I had the most brutal dream about Ares. In that dream like way, I knew I had gone back in time a little. To "sort something out". And I was walking Athena and Ares. There he was. Back with me. He was ok. Fine. Healthy. Look. I dont have to lose him. It was a mistake. I dont want to go back to the present. I can stay here in the past. Do different things. Change fate. The dream shifted as they do through various scenes. Crowded shops. People in my way. Avoiding people. People were a problem. Before on the street, with Ares and Athena again. And in my dream I started crying. Real soul wrenching crying. I hugged Ares. And in that dream fashion he changed into a young man with black eyes. Why are you sad he said. Why are you crying. It's not about me is it ? I hugged him hard and cried into his shoulder  and said that it was all about him.

And then I woke up like a bolt. 6.30am. Abject misery. I cried my eyes out. The weird memory of him turning into a young man, of actually talking to me. It seemed he didn't want me to be sad. That was the implication. It was. And is. Brutal. Holy shit. My mind is making new agony variants to torture myself with. The rest of the house slept on oblivious whilst I cried my eyes out. Ah. How very me.

I got up. That horrible weight and gnawing hole in my stomach. And realised I had to distract myself. I went and watched Netflix until I zoned out.

Back home yesterday. I greeted the dogs. Athena looked... old... and stiff. A shiver of horror went through me. Time was slipping away. I was severely tired. I struggled on, then went to bed at 6pm. Poppy woke me up at 7pm with a cold nose in my ear. Got up like the dead. Pottered around for a few more hours. Back to bed.

Today. A lot of work waits for me. Teaching of newbies. Multiple deadlines to hit.

Hum ho. I really feel like I need months off. Of doing not much. I've basically worked all the way through since January. A single clear week off. Stupid. Whilst Andy is very good in some ways. In others. His anxiety and need for me to work and over reliance on me is brutal. There are very exploitative aspects to it. He's a nice guy though. Life is rarely straight forward.