Jun 25

 Swimming yesterday. Hard. I ached in various places. It was harder than it usually was. Not exactly pleasant. It could just be some flarey pain symptoms. I didn't take my asthma pump, which, I suspect, actually makes a big difference. I was very tentative coming out of the pool. Iffy foot. Dodgy knee. Pains. Uh huh. The ladder out becomes non trivial.

It was ok. I felt better afterwards. But came home and collapsed hardcore. Exhausted.

Uh huh. Figures.

I resented having to sleep yesterday, but I had to. Frustrating.

I spent most of the day in a low level malaise. Lonely. Sad. My symptoms were bubbling at a low to mid level. Not enough to be seriously detrimental. Enough to cause discomfort, unease, and a clear sense of Not Being Right.

At one point I touched being properly depressed, that familiar feeling in the pit of your stomach, the weight that settles, that can't get out of it tar pit, the loss of control. But it was brief. I scraped along it for 10 minutes. Oh no. Then it went. This is probably a fair representation of where I am. Right on that line. I have no doubt that if you took me for an assessment I'd classify as slam dunk depressed. But to me I am not depressed, at least, not to the depths I can go to. To me. This is the balmy rolling hills before you get to Mordor itself. I can see this is probably my own sense of context being heavily warped in the favour of misery. When you're used to chewing glass, chewing sand is easier going.

Anyway. Whatever.

Sometimes I find myself angry. Angry with everything. Angry at the world the way it is. Angry with people.

I have spoken a couple of times to my dad on the phone in the last 2 weeks, just to ping him, see how he's doing. But. Over the weekend. It came up again in my head what he did to my mom. Kicking her on the floor. Leaving her there for a day. Dehydrated. Unfed. Called a fucking bitch. And. It's hard. It instantly sours me giving him that weekly phone call. It rankles at best. It is a never addressed injustice he is not remorseful about and has never had to confront. I have, kind of, left it there. Alone. Unresolved. Moved on, yet also not. Just unfinished. And time has passed and there is little to no point in it anymore. Nevertheless. It's hard chatting to someone without a care in the world when they have done something heinous. If you see what I mean. Chatting casually with a murderer. Or rapist. Mmm. Don't get me wrong. I am not about to confront him or dig it up. But. It is very difficult for me to justify chatting to him. On the one hand. He is isolated, and in a shit position, and that's awful. On the other hand. Heinous unremorseful.

I will wait it out and see how I feel. It is a complication for sure.

I am angry about a lot of other things too. Just. How I have been treated. What people say but then don't do. Just. How shit people can be. Typically I am zen. And understanding. But. It also has to be said at some point that does allow boundaries to be overriden and shit behaviour to some extent enabled.

A conversation a short while ago with one of my friends has curdled some things lately. On Hazel. She acts like a child was their verdict. Expecting everything to be done for her. A long list of demands and needs. A very short list of understanding or maturity. I do see what they mean. It's lodged in my head. Particularly her behaviour with her dad. Her fury about him spending money to go on holiday and not help her because he has no money. As my friend said. It's her dads money. She has no entitlement to it. He is living his life. She is a grown adult who should have no expectation of constant handout. Which is not to say parents et al are not in a position to help. It's just that expectation. I defended her by saying it's more his flip flop of promising one thing, then never following through. Which is pretty awful. But. There is also a weight to my friends words. About behaving like a permanent child expectant of everything and incapable of doing that for themselves.

When put like that, a lot of her behaviour falls into line with this. The jealously over her sister getting "all the things". The rage against her step brother when he suggested they give up some inheritance to help the kids.

And brutally. My friend said, if she wanted money to do things, then go out, get a job, and get money to do things. She was comfortable enough in her position. How long would she last if she lost the computer or her phone.

Uh huh.

It also chimes a little with our journey back from the beach. Her tolerance is low. Expectations high. You can do all the things for her. Buy her late lunch. Lovely picnic. Drive her to the beach and back. Drinks. Thoughtfulness. Fully funded.

And she can barely contain the hostility back. Criticisms. Punches.

Ho hum.

Anyway. I am not angry about any of that.

Work today.

Couldn't be arsed.

Nevertheless, couldn't be arsed is a mood, and soon enough, I had no choice to be arsed, and have been up to my eyeballs in doing stuff. Most of which is just fixing others peoples shit. I have a meeting this afternoon just to get everyone on the same page, and, unfortunately, fire a few fucking shots across bows.

Sigh.

Whatever.

Weather is heating up. Days are getting warm. Not uncomfortable yet. But full on summer mode. So far, the evenings have been blessedly cool. Down to 12C. The breeze last night across the computer room was sublime. Chilled. Slow. Steady. With a hint of summer on it. Beautiful.

I picked up some new eye drops from prescription at the pharmacy yesterday. Pretty heavy duty, unusual. It took the pharmacy a week and a half to get them in.

So as well as "wiping the inner under lid of my eye" when I can, I am now doing the eye drops. I have little faith they will help my shitty eyes and blackened bruises. But you never know. And this, is part of a journey - not for me, but for my GP. We have to wait, until he has walked along a path of discovery himself.

The way of the world. You can't tell people shit. You just have to watch them make mistakes.