It's been over 2 weeks since I wrote my diary. To begin with it felt great, like I was free of it, which is stupid because its something I've chosen to do , needed to do mostly, but I'd hit a wall so I stopped.
But I think 2 weeks is enough as I'm back. And I'm sad. And lonely. And upset.
I've cried quite a bit today. It filled the 2 hour round trip to work quite nicely. I guess it's Christmas. All the talk of shopping and organising and people being busy busy busy. Then there's me. Alone unless I'm at work, not a bauble in sight. And yes I know I could decorate, millions of solo dwellers do, but for me I feel "what's the fucking point?"
I hate that I feel like this. He's creeping back into my pea brain of course. I hate him, I wish I could be brain washed to forget him. But no such luck.
I'm thinking I want to spend Christmas day as though it isn't happening again. Rewind 365 days and I'm saying the same thing. The logistics with my toddler niece and my dogs are not going to work for me. Last year they stayed in the boot of my estate car all day and came out whenever the baby went for a nap. Which was alot. This year theres no comfy spacious estate and the baby is mobile and not napping. Great. My parents live 30 miles away, I can't pop home to the dogs. I will have to have a couple of hours of Christmas then go home to an empty house with no decorations while the rest of the world is enjoying themselves. It would be far less painful if I didn't go at all. For me that is. It would make my sister feel bad which isn't fair as of course her child comes first.
I really feel like there is no actual point to my life. Nobody would miss me if I wasn't here, I wouldn't leave a hole. My family would be upset initially if something happened to me but they'd get on with it I'm sure. I never hardly see any of them anyway. It's a struggle every day and what's the point. Work to live, not live to work. I'm not exactly living. Just existing, slowly dying each day.
God thats morbid. And I'm also embarrassed as the "family I hardly see" just text to ask if I want to meet for lunch at the weekend. Good old mum, checking I'm still alive.
I think that's enough now. Any more self pity tears and I really will look like The Grinch in the morning.
