Dear Alex, Not Any More.

Dear Alex,


Steam curls off my hot cup of coffee, computer on my lap, dog on my feet, I have set aside a small amount of time to write to you during the day, at least to make a start. Which feels strange in itself, I normally finish off the day by writing to you.

A remark made yesterday, innocent in its origin, naive in the expressing, but like a sharpened knife bearing into my heart the reception. It has left me with a huge amount to think about, to try and 'get over'.

So much resentment I have, so much that I need to excavate it somehow. Work though it. Or will it just always be there? I try not to feed it, not to pay too much attention to it, but on occasion it will simmer and spill over and sting me.

Talking to the Counsellor today I try and put my week into a pattern of events, thoughts, try and compartmentalise all. Only I feel too distant, too uninvolved. I feel too numb, maybe, or too unable to accept things. I feel like if I had pinched myself I would have woken up. You see honey, I have not been sleeping well recently, waking up so frequently for no reason, sweating cold sweats, I sometimes wonder if it is still post traumatic stress. The kids do their bit in waking me up in the night too, and this morning, sore throat ( I have had some bug for nearly two weeks now I cannot shake off) Headache, eyes burning, I just cannot shake this strange temperature sore throat and cough I have had. In the kitchen, doing the familiar, the morning routine, the weetabix, the porridge and legs aching.

These are times I get quite claustrophobic.

Because I wish I had someone with me, just sharing the load a tiny bit. Even just to moan to! It's the feeling of having to carry on, disregarding how I am, I don't count! And be there and make sure the kids are OK.

I need your support at the moment, but you are having one of those days when you scream at me down the phone, showing me you are 'gone' again…

No hope of any support or care or comfort from you, not any more...



Me xxxxxxxxxxx