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Sink

All week I’ve been gearing myself up for today: pay day. The day when my inherent poverty loosens slightly and for a short, brief, magical moment I am able to look at my bank balance without recoiling in fear. As I stepped through each day this week I kept reminding myself I’m paid Friday and I am off this weekend. That I was going to enjoy myself. Then of course I woke up this morning and these plans shattered into more pieces than America will if Trump gets into power. Why? Oh yes, another low day has dawned.

The last few nights I’ve been having really vivid dreams; I can’t for the life of me remember much of them, only fragments, but as such I feel like I’ve not rested properly. Consequently I’m now damned to crawl through today looking and feeling like a zombie. It’s not even midday yet and I feel like I’m slowly having to drag each individual word from a cold mine in the pit of my stomach up to my mouth whenever I’m forced to speak to someone.  Which in turn they shall perceive as rude, and then be rude back, to which the outcome will be me feeling worse about myself but being unable to muster the energy to ability to do anything about it. If only retreating to bed was a viable option.

I am going to assume the reason behind the dreams and poor sleep is my over active mind throughout the course of the day. I am continuously wrestling with my inner critic, gruffly telling myself to carry on, shake it off, that I’m just being stupid and paranoid. I wish I was one of those people that were born was absolutely zero self-critical reflex, I’m sure they just ease through their day. Like most people I can keep a handle on my thought pattern, normally because I am at work and thus preoccupied. However, when I fling myself into bed at night my mind decides to pick up every hitch-hiking negative thought that flags it down, all of which won’t stop tutting and murmuring about all the ‘mistakes’ I made that day, petulantly kicking the back of my seat until I pay attention. Fucking back-seat drivers. My thoughts are like cockroaches; only once the lights are turned off do they start scuttling around my head.

On days such as these I feel forced to over dramatise all of my actions and responses in order to convince everyone that I am fine. This half-arsed pantomime is probably the most draining production I’ve ever participated in; I’d much rather be pulling a disappointed expression all day. What makes matters worse on days like this is someone asking for guidance or help. I truly want to help you, comfort you or whatever you need, but just not today. I’m terrible cheerleader on days like this. I simply cannot egg you on, my hearts not in. I would be an awful Jesus.

I have employed a few techniques in the past in attempted to assist me with coping on days like these. Sort of psychological cleansing rituals if you will. I’ve imagined trapping all these thoughts inside a random object, such as a football, then symbolically I boot it out the window and get on with my day. But it never really works and now every football I see I immediately assume it is harbinger of terrible consequence.

So here I am, witlessly pawing at the keyboard, about to go get ready for work. Preparing myself for another encounter with the looming iceberg of depression whose ominous presence is threatening to sink my mood to never-before-reached depths, transforming my whines of self-doubt into cries on abject panic. At least it’s pay day though.

7 thoughts on “Sink Leave a comment

  1. I hope that you ended up having a lovely day nonetheless.

    I don’t usually make a conscious decision to acknowledge, box-up and boot out my negative thinking but I find that in most instances once I get to work I am able to function as though those negative thoughts didn’t exist.

    With regards to when you’re not at work and when you’re alone: start doing something physical. Paint. Draw. Dance. Write. Yoga. Especially before bed. I find that it helps me focus and then get whatever it is that’s on my mind out.

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Hope your day got a lot better and you truly get to enjoy your weekend off. You deserve it. You don’t need to be a cheerleader on these days. These are the days you should phone your friend and ask for a bit of help this day.

    I to have been having the weirdest of dreams. One where if you make eye contact with someone you get weird laser beem powers. )Red or white depending on if you have a good soul) to ones where an old work mate is on honeymoon and I dreamt she’s already preggo. I have no idea what these mean!!

    It’s been said so many times before but tomorrow is a new day. A day off. Get up. Go for a run. Write. Release. Enjoy yourself. Don’t let the bad days win. That’s what I’m telling myself even though there is more bad that good at the min. We just keep fighting.

    Liked by 1 person

  3. Getting out of bed is always An Achievement. As is telling the immediately arising thoughts of Why Bother to sit down and be quiet. As is the way in which YOU write about these things, which are so effing awful, and making them funny, in perspective. Wish I could shop where you work! Although all the giggling coming out of the dressing room would probably get you fired. Carry on. And unbelievably it does and will get better. Intermittently…….

    Liked by 1 person

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