I was an emotional wreck yesterday, for absolutely no reason whatsoever I spent much of the day either laughing until I cried, or just plain crying. Fucking weird I say. This thing is now 25 days old, and is starting to wear very very thin.
I awoke in the morning from probably the most vivid dream I’ve ever experienced. It involved my ex-fiancé, and we were doing things… things that we’d never done before. I jumped out of bed, and hurtled down the stairs to a cold shower. It was horrendous. I’m starting to get concerned about my mind and the way it’s starting to work, or alternatively not work.
It didn’t take long for things to calm down, and despite the sun shining I just couldn’t quite bring myself to leave the house. There was no reason for this, other than the fact that it was a Sunday, and my mind just couldn’t focus enough to make my feet work in unison.
Definitely a case of slippers on, selection of films, and wait for Match of the Day 2. (Hold it in mind that is was shortly after 11am that this was decided and MOTD2 isn’t on until 10.30pm, that’s a solid 12 hours of doing nothing) It’s precisely what I went about doing as well. I worked my way through 4, maybe 5 films without venturing further than the back garden for a smoke and to throw some darts around…. When particular scenes appeared which weren’t helping anything.
It’s been the most lazy weekend I’ve ever had. But after the past few months, and with Notting Hill Carnival, and Bestival still to come it was definitely deserved, and worth it.
Not much to report though, I’m not testing myself anymore, I’m not going to try and see how far I can push myself.
I’m really fucking tired of this whole thing. I think the five steps of grief go something like this… Denial, Anger, Bargaining, Depression, Acceptance.
At some point in the past 25 days I’ve gone most of these, just not in that order.
I definitely got angry. BT wont answer the phone to me anymore after the threat of burning down their offices and smothering the poor customer services girl in her sleep thing… They’ll get over it though.
Day 15 was a day for bargaining. I would have sold my soul to get through to the other side by midday. Luckily I didn’t have to, but Jesus wept, I was in trouble there for a bit.
I accepted the whole thing pretty quickly, I took to it like James Corden has to annoying the whole fucking nation in 6 short months. The first 14 days were a walk in the park. Day 15 was a blip, and then it’s not been to tricky since. I’ve accepted I’m going to do it, my body accepted that I’m going to do it, and the female population of SE1 have accepted I’m going to do it – STOP CALLING ME, IT’S NOT HELPING!
Right now…. I’m in the midst of a depression. I really don’t want to do this anymore, it’s boring, it’s not good for my mental or physical state, I really am starting to lose the plot. A fully grown man shouldn’t cry at an episode of ‘The Fresh Prince of Bel-Air.’ Ever. It's just not right.
Just denial to go then.... or isn't that what I've been doing for 25 fucking days?
It’s two weeks tomorrow, two whole weeks – I would, on any other day before this be over the moon to only be 2 weeks away from the target, but right now it seems like a million miles away.
There’s nothing funny about this anymore.
