For the past few weeks it has been a mentally exhausting time for me and my whole family; Some people from my past have been trying to contact me again and I have learned recently that two relatives on my side of the family have cancer, and understanding that more distant relations are also suffering loss; along with this I have been trying to manage my sons increasing anxieties and screaming matches between him and his father amongst other things, such as the house falling apart, quite literally due to storm damage and damp.
All of it has taken its toll on my physical health and unusually I have been sleeping eleven to thirteen hours a day and still unsatisfied with the rest. Consequently for the past five days in particular, I have not written a word towards any novel and this is going to severely affect my chosen deadline.
Paul would like me to stick to my deadline but also understands that I should not push myself to do it by the deadline, because my mental health and mental growth is more important – however, I have people waiting for my work and that gives me a sort of pressure.
Also my perfectionism drives me to the point of insanity and if I make a statement about doing something by some self-imposed deadline, I am merciless even to myself if I fail it.
What is frustrating about all of this is the mental bashing has come at a time when physically I was showing big signs of improvement because of the high protein diet and small activities I have been doing as well as giving up the caffeine.
It is almost like bad luck is queuing up, waiting their turn.
I told Paul recently that I feel like I am cursed, or that I have somehow cursed him because he had a wonderful family and a sort of happy life before he met me and slowly his life is going the downward spiral I have.
It’s like I am an unlucky penny.
I have to say, it’s one of the many reasons I don’t like to get close to new people, because I really do think I bring them bad luck. However, take me to a casino and you wouldn’t believe it, I have been used as a good luck trophy at those places in the past for good reason!
My grandma in particular loved me tagging along with her at bingo and casinos, because she would regularly win large prizes and a couple of exes owe big wins to me too; but in everything else though, I seem to doom people who live with me to a hard life.
I noticed it only affects people I live with if the people are happy with stagnation, so maybe it’s not me after all? I noticed people with an ambitious drive for life etc; seem to do better around me than those who are happy as they are. I don’t know, but it does affect my confidence somewhat.
I need people in my life who is energised by positivity and excitement on a consistent basis, that the more positive energy and drive the person they live with has, the more they have – but I noticed some people are different, some people get the energy from me for a short time, love being around me, but to live with me drains them and then consequently they drain me.
It’s a strange phenomenon.
Paul is convinced I am an anomaly, that there are very few people like me who can have consistent positive energy without falling apart eventually.
I am drained by stagnation and people who make do.
Gosh I sound bad.
Well in any case, at the moment I am drained and I am finding it hard to keep my positive outlook and that is affecting productivity.
I am beginning to think that October 21st was a bad idea, I should have kept with my instinct of the 23rd of January, but I believe I got a little cocky, thinking that being firm with everyone in my household would make people back off each other and I could be more productive. Instead, some people have used this against me in order to become worse.
Henry in particular openly confessed to me he doesn’t want me to be successful and potentially famous because that would mean he would become famous too and he doesn’t want that. This is a major reason why Henry has been trying to be sick from school a lot, even becoming bulimic in the process to be sent home from school because of the vomiting factor, and so he understands whilst he is at home I cannot write because of the screaming matches between him and his father, who is home all day too.
Often I try to diffuse the screaming matches to no avail, because it just seems to make things worse, no matter how calm and collective I try to be. The both of them are as bad as each other and so often I sit there just watching them scream at each other, because most of the time they don’t hear me anyway.
It did work, me being in the bedroom writing on my laptop for a couple of days, but Henry started to scream louder to the extent he nearly lost his voice, just because he wanted to disturb me. He then started to sit outside the bedroom whilst I wrote, in order to play his robot wars with the loudest commentary he could muster. This is what I am trying to work around; I have little support from Paul who seems to be falling apart at the seams in every single way right now.
It’s exhausting because it is almost constant now.
I have learned to write when they go to Tesco’s forty five minute bursts every three days, not enough.
I am trying to get a handle on my physical health so I can go to a café to write, because really, even the nosiest café in town is quieter than here and this house is getting a reputation in the street in being the mad house, because neighbours can clearly hear what the yelling is exactly about, it’s that bad!
They’ve even asked if I still live there as they noticed I am the quietest person here and they rarely hear me!
I can’t afford to sit in a café daily, but even if it’s twice a week I’d get more work done there than I would here, but I need to walk there and I need a while to get strength back into my legs. Because I have been bedbound and housebound sick for years, it has taken me nearly three months of small exercises to be able to stand in the kitchen for fifteen minutes, whilst preparing a fruit salad for myself. So it will be at least another three to six months before I can walk to Tesco café.
I am not putting off the deadline that long.
But it does mean I have to do unsociable habits; sleeping during the day, so I can write at night. Waking 11am sometimes 1pm to sleep by 2am only gives me ninety minutes a day, but it’s something. But it does depend on how exhausting that evening has been.
I am trying hard to pull Henry away from the laptop and robots in order to do something with him that won’t provoke screaming matches between his father and him, but it’s a task to get the boy doing anything else.
I am thinking about going into credit again to buy a shed/office for the garden, but honestly I can’t think about doing that until one debt is completely paid off in March. If I am still struggling by March, I would have to consider it strongly, so I can work on my novels.
It drives me nuts not being able to write as fast as I want to, even resorting to taking hearing aids out and sitting with cotton wool in my ears, they still manage to penetrate that and I am completely deaf in one ear and 30% hearing in the other; but as I said, they scream loud enough for the street to hear the conversations.
I really don’t say it lightly.
I am knackered.