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Posts Tagged ‘anxiety’

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In Unforgiving Minutes, Work Diary, Writing Diary on March 31, 2010 at 10:19 pm

It’s not the weekend, admittedly, but these lats two days I’ve not been working, and it has been the toughest two days for a long time. Maybe only for a week, who knows, but tough. From one minute to the next unsettled, trying to get through the day doing one thing then the next, and not feeling right in any one of them. Wearing a stupid haircut again but not wanting to take time out to go and get it cut. Not in the mood to climb, or to run, in the nasty wet and then snowy weather, but not trusting myself to stick out writing and get something meaningful done either, nor able to relax into a DVD, or relax into anything for that matter.

It could be anything. Could be any number of things. I have to get back to Kedo still over the question of a holiday in Romania. Something we didn’t manage to do those years ago, years that have slipped by insidiously quickly in this very same confused anxiety of a mix of conflicting impulses. Holidays have led to so much stress with me every time I can remember. I had to drink myself to a sleep that didn’t come last time I went to Prague. And the run up to it, having to let down a friend to go to Slovakia instead of the Brecons or wherever he was going, I would myself up into a rediculous frenzy over that. I haven’t got back to Kedo over whether I can go to Romania in June. To do so I would have to broach the subject with my boss, tell him the dates and get the yay or nay. It’s always a simple matter like that that sticks in me somehow. Broaching Prague to my folks last time who were subsidizing my writing venture, breaking up the progress I was making on Scars and Tattoos, versus having a much needed break and getting out of my habit of reclusiveness I had fallen into.

With my brother too I have been planning a holiday. An active holiday. The first dates fell through. Can’t get the time off. And so it fell off my radar. Of course, in this time too, my mania for activities and climbing and kayaking and biking and all the things I should have been doing for the last ten years or so fell away. Writing and Czech were up there at the top again. More stress. More letting people down. More indecisiveness. More putting off decisions and conversations until it all came to a head, in my mind at least.

And then too, maybe with a few days of overcast weather and feeling out of sorts. Maybe with the one woman I know here going away and, as little as I spoke to her, being more able to speak to her about ADHD (which covers the Asperger’s I don’t talk about, though I have now quite calculatedly placed The Big Bang Theory downstairs in plain view), about depression and problems with relationships, I feel down, alone, and rejected by everyone around me, as if this is simply one more place I don’t fit in, not the first and certainly not the last in a life which will be lived from one to the next, constantly on the move, never setting down roots, and always burning bridges. And so slečna Barbora is back in the picture.

Ok, so she has been for some time.

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