MemberBefore I wake, before my eyes open, I am aware.
It is there - as if it can't wait to torment me again.
In truth of course, I know it never left me.
It will have kept me company all night long making sure that whenever I wake again I will be tired and depressed.
Another new day - but just like over two thousand days that preceded it,
since Ground Zero.
Another set of circumstances, relationships to maintain, saying a cheerful "Hi" to acquaintances in the shops, who will have absolutely no idea, as long as I can 'pull it off.'
My nearest and dearest wanting to know how I am today, 'am I any better, will I be alright, can I in fact cope today?'
Vacuuming to do.
I wear earplugs, but the motor inside my head is louder still.
Grown up children to see, grandchildren for dinner - lovely, totally adorable kids - I would literally die for them - but sometimes their (healthy) noise feels like it could kill me.
Earplugs in over a happy, normal, boisterous dinner, which I wouldn't miss for all the world.
But of course, I love them so much.
Feigning normality, in a supreme effort to ease everybody else's concerns, that I might be struggling.
I so want to be well, to be better, to be healthy again, essentially for them - let alone myself.
Not too much to ask is it?
I want to be the way I always was.
(Some hopes?)
Somehow I seem to be able to survive this thing, day after interminable day, stretching ahead into a precarious uncertain, future, the only predictability being the 'noise.'
Each day a new battle to wage, of feeling down, where my only attempted defence is a session of deep relaxation, which when successful can lead into a somewhat comforting meditation.
Now I have to tell you - I would never talk to my adorable family this way, but then I don't have to pretend to you guys do I?
You already know the truth.
Well - some of you do.
Those that don't understand,
kindly ignore please.
No Arguments On Here!
Love to everybody,
Dave x
Jazzer
It is there - as if it can't wait to torment me again.
In truth of course, I know it never left me.
It will have kept me company all night long making sure that whenever I wake again I will be tired and depressed.
Another new day - but just like over two thousand days that preceded it,
since Ground Zero.
Another set of circumstances, relationships to maintain, saying a cheerful "Hi" to acquaintances in the shops, who will have absolutely no idea, as long as I can 'pull it off.'
My nearest and dearest wanting to know how I am today, 'am I any better, will I be alright, can I in fact cope today?'
Vacuuming to do.
I wear earplugs, but the motor inside my head is louder still.
Grown up children to see, grandchildren for dinner - lovely, totally adorable kids - I would literally die for them - but sometimes their (healthy) noise feels like it could kill me.
Earplugs in over a happy, normal, boisterous dinner, which I wouldn't miss for all the world.
But of course, I love them so much.
Feigning normality, in a supreme effort to ease everybody else's concerns, that I might be struggling.
I so want to be well, to be better, to be healthy again, essentially for them - let alone myself.
Not too much to ask is it?
I want to be the way I always was.
(Some hopes?)
Somehow I seem to be able to survive this thing, day after interminable day, stretching ahead into a precarious uncertain, future, the only predictability being the 'noise.'
Each day a new battle to wage, of feeling down, where my only attempted defence is a session of deep relaxation, which when successful can lead into a somewhat comforting meditation.
Now I have to tell you - I would never talk to my adorable family this way, but then I don't have to pretend to you guys do I?
You already know the truth.
Well - some of you do.
Those that don't understand,
kindly ignore please.
No Arguments On Here!
Love to everybody,
Dave x
Jazzer
