Pray, be as trivial as you can.

When I first started this journal, it was predominantly a purgative vehicle for me.  I had endured years of shit IVF nonsense that finally culminated in an assisted conception pregnancy and subsequent miscarriage and felt unable to formulate my feelings on the subject, let alone communicate them to anyone.  Initially I found it hard to put my thoughts into coherent sentences but it wasn’t overly important to me to make sense as I was fairly confident that no one, beside myself, was reading it anyway.

As time has gone by the therapeutic imperative has diminished and I’ve generally used this journal to poke fun at my neighbours and allow them to laugh at me in my turn – which means there’s been decidedly more nonsense and ranting about life’s little injustices, and decidedly less cathartic unburdening of whatever pile of shit was raining on my parade at the time..

But now…  I seem to have come full circle.

Since my most recent car accident, I’m finding it difficult to be ‘blithe and bonny’ and whenever I sit down to write… I find I am more inclined to complain about the God awful state of my back and the subsequent bullshit that comes with it… and less likely to have found anything in my day worth jotting down.  The back pain thing …. it’s pervasive, all encompassing and absolutely inescapable for me.  Morning, noon and night – back pain – back pain – back pain… day after fucking tiring day. 

It has become a struggle to ignore it for ten minutes together in order to pay heed to what’s going on around me.  I’m finding it increasingly exhausting to interact with my friends and family at the moment… let alone finding the motivation and effort  required to extend general courtesies to people for whom I have little of no affection.  As anyone who knows me would be aware, my tolerance for the stupidity of others was often negligible at the best of times and now?  Well, now it is positively non-existent. 

I have no desire to see other people or to be with other people or to be surrounded by the noise of other people.   More and more I just want to crawl into a corner… somewhere cool and dark and safe … so I can stop pretending for everyone that all is well.  I just want to stay home and have everyone leave me the fuck alone.   *sigh…blank stare*   I am intellectually aware that all this adds up to something tantamount to clinical depression and while I have acknowledged this and am trying to do something proactive about it – I think the drugs are doing more harm than good and honestly don’t hold out much hope for the counseling either. 

So… yeah… anyway…. should anyone have the misfortune to be reading the absolute drivel that I’ve been spewing forth lately, I do sincerely apologize for the repeated references to my sorry arse mental state and chronically painful back… and while I shall endeavour in future to be as trivial as may be, I fear success may continue to elude me.
😐

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