I'm doing a little better these days - I think.
I dont cry on public transport anymore, I dont go to bed with sore abs from the constant low-level anxiety attack that has been twisting my stomach all day. I am eating again, I am going to the gym, I am starting to get back the weight I lost. Then again I'm not sure its actually better - just different. I am numb now. flat. I still have periods of abject misery and I am finding that I indulge in some quite strange behaviour.
I seem to be looking for excuses to be miserable.

The other day, while walking home from work I imagined that I bought myself a puppy ( not even remotely feasible since my lease specifically disallows pets, but anyway). I imagined looking after that puppy, naming him, training him, laughing at his awkwardness with his over-sized paws. Then I imagined that he was run over.

I imagined finding him lying broken and bloody by the side of the road. I built on this, Imagining little details, embellishing until I was totally distraught. Crying over a puppy I don't even have.

Another time I imagined I received a phone call to tell me my mother had died suddenly.

Im not sure what all this means. Perhaps subconsciously I think I should be over her by now. I dont feel that I should be miserable about her anymore so I invent one of these anti-fantasies to be miserable about.

Then again, perhaps its not really anything to do with her anymore.
Perhaps its gone further than that now.

Do you know how far this has gone?
Just how damaged have I become?
When I think I can overcome
It runs even deeper

Nine Inch Nails - The Fragile

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