There’s an uneasiness overwhelming me today, a restlessness and an inability to know what to do. Not just What To Do, not concerns about future me, but worries – blown way out of proportion – about what to do with the next ten minutes, the next hour, the time until I can go to bed. I feel panicky and uncertain.
These are the times when I am likely to suddenly start crying. The times when the smallest thing sets off anger and frustration and tears, when I’m aware how ridiculous my reaction is but I can’t control it; when I feel most mad.
I’ve tried my usual tactics. Nothing on TV is holding my attention. I can’t think of anything I want to watch. I tried my back up (The US Office which I must have watched all the way through, all seasons, four times in the last year and a half) but just as I’d settled down into a stupor, watching without thinking, my internet cut off and that started more crying. I can’t focus to read, the mindless games I play that sometimes serve as a distraction aren’t working. The wine I have is on the turn and not pleasant to glug.
I can feel the anger rising. I’m hot and sweating and uncomfortable. My back and neck and head are aching.
Again. I run the options for distractions through my head and come up empty. Even typing this isn’t really working. It’s only 10.30 but I might have to go to bed. It’s that or risk self-harm again and things are lessening on that front – only four pale red dried lines sweep my stomach, plus a small area of grazing, and the rest are fading scars – so I don’t want to start it up again. But it’s risky now. I’ll finish my sour wine and get ready for bed. And hope that sleep comes quickly.