Lonely. Not a bad day until now though. I slept late, went for a walk, sat in a cafe with an iced latte. Then I bought sneakers. Just walked into a store and bought them in maybe twenty minutes, after putting that task off for weeks. They’re pricey, but they fit the best and I liked the look of them.
I’m continuing with exercise even though it triggers memories for me. Last night I went swimming, this time in the evening, the lane swim. Kind of fun. But then afterwards I was dissociated and slept very badly. I don’t know how to describe that state. It’s like being super-alert, while also feeling nothing much. I associate it with whiteness. Don’t know why – why not with blackness, or blue? Nope, it’s white.
Then the depression in the first half of the day, climbing out of that. By afternoon, I’m doing better again, and even feel quite relaxed for a few hours there, sipping the latte, reclining on my balcony with a book. Things seem peaceful and OK.
Now I’m whistling in the dark, posting here. Ron has left for vacation. He takes four weeks over the summer, two singly, then two consecutive weeks in August. Six weeks overall. Lucky man. Well, he works it out like that. He deserves vacation.
I always hate it when he goes away. And he is not receiving emails either, unlike previous vacations. Something’s gone wrong with his internet on his phone. And he’s in no hurry to get that fixed apparently. Plus, it occurs to me after my session, his kids and likely his wife also will surely have along devices that receive internet, so he could borrow if he wanted to. I like having the option of emailing him if I’m very stressed, say for instance because my therapist is away.
He says I could leave a message, or text, which he’ll pick up most days. I guess I can do that. Last week though I did not email him once, so maybe I can get through this week also with no contact. Give the poor man a break.
I went to my first creative writing class on Thursday. I was pretty scared to go. It was fine. The teacher seems quite nurturing and kind, not at all critical. There are about ten of us aspiring creative writers. We did a few short exercises in class. The first one we had to read out. My voice shook a bit when I read, but not too too badly.
Next week we ‘workshop’ a small writing assignment. The teacher has offered to read out anyone’s, if we are shy to read our own. I might take advantage – if I have to read my piece out, I’ll be so stressed I won’t be able to pay attention to what people tell me.
There are two other middle aged and older women, besides myself. The rest are young, with one young man who is a year younger than my son.
I want to make some kind of plan for tomorrow so I won’t spend the day entirely alone again. I phoned a friend today but she was out. I could always go to meditation or church I suppose.
Odds and ends, odds and ends. Must get it together to write a coherent post shortly.
Loneliness makes me afraid everyone has died and only I am left behind. A frightening feeling. When really, things are OK. I am safe, I have money and a home, even friends though they are not here.