Y Ddraig Goch

Sept 08 - I'm Fine

Prompt: “Bring down the curtain—the farce is over.” The last words of French philosopher and comic, Francois Rabelais What do you think of life? Is it really a farce?

***

I think life is messy. And hard. And exhausting. It is full of ups and downs. The falls are often far easier to reach than the climbs, which we all seem to chase with a reckless obsession. I am currently in a pit of crappiness!

I'm going through some stuff.... Having a moment... Possibly throwing an adult sized tantrum. It's been a really tough year. I am so over 2025 and there are still four months left of it. If 2025 was a person, I would be in prison for hunting it down and trying to annihilate it. That is how I feel about 2025.

Since June, in chronological order:

A friend back in the UK (10702 miles away) was diagnosed with terminal cancer. We are so far away, being there for them and their family is impossible. And trying to arrange to go back is a nightmare because apparently 2025 is a bitch and just wants to pile crap on...

The car got stolen and wrecked. Insurnace was a headache, as was trying to buy a new car and getting it insured etc... because premium went through the roof thanks to idiot car thiefs...

My son's old nursey (where he was a few years ago when he was 4 years old) was in a news because one of their ex-workers was arrested for over 70 charges of child SA - some of which was perpetrated at the nursey at the time my son was there - so I had to take my 7 year old to the doctors to be tested for STDs. That certainly was not on my bucket list of things to do in 2025. Nor was having to explain this whole thing to my kids. HE'S FINE BTW.

Indy (our 13 years Akita) had to be put to sleep unexpectedly - well as unexpectedly as is possible with a 13-year dog. It sucks. I don't think I have cried this much since my dad passed away.

My husband is currently going for the record of as many new illnesses as possible; high-blood pressure with his systolic between 180 and 200 and a face so read it looked like he was going to explode; heart palpitations which led to a scan that showed thickening of his heart muscles...; Torn muscles/ligaments in his elbow from lifting weight... He's 40 and now rattles when he walks thanks to all the new meds he has to take.

I'm sure there is more...

My brain goes into a sort of denial and only allows me to retain a certain number of crappy events at any one time. It's a very good coping mechanism, as is hyper-focus, which has been reading recently - I'm currently at 124 book this year (insomnia has its uses), but which I intend to switch to Halloween. Maybe I'll tandem them.

I feel broken. Not irrevocably. But there are certainly cracks... fissures... canyon-sided gaps. I'm tired. And so, so over it. The facade... if there was one, is well and truly gone.

I don't have the energy to protect other people's sense of the facade. So don't ask me how I'm doing, because I will tell you... I will not go with the obligatory "I'm fine" response... I will go with the "Well Bob, I'm having a really crappy morning, my patience evaporated getting my kids to school, and I'm this close to un-aliving someone if one more person gets between me and my cup of tea...".

Though, in all honesty, I don't think I have to say anything... my RBF is enough to set off the next ice age and makes grown men take two steps back. Because let's face it, no one really want to deal with a 40-odd year old, perimenopausal women who is fckd up, irritable, neurotic and emotionally spent...