Awash with pain

I am so relieved that I managed to sleep for a couple of hours tonight as I was at the point where I was no longer safe on the roads. However, I had many disturbing dreams in that time which I don't care to think about. I have been lying awake for a while and have decided to get up so I don't disturb the kids while they sleep. When I am in this state I usually try to stay in bed and keep electronic devices off so as to encourage sleep.

I went for a long walk with the kids, a dear friend and her children yesterday. In that time we were talking about things unrelated to me and a couple of things she said resonated with me. I am awash with pain at the moment. I have been in this state of loss and raw realisation since New Year's Day. It's not pretty and I don't like it. I feel simultaneously numb and cold while at the same time everything hurts.

I put on a facade for the rest of the world. I plaster a smile on my face. I get up each day and face the shit. At the same time I am being torn apart from the inside. Hope is a nasty little thing that infects every fibre of your being. When you want something as wholeheartedly as I do; hope is all you have. On the flip side of that is reality which just fucking sucks, to be honest. I feel like I am tethered. I am being kept on a leash as a fallback position. I am no one's first choice. I wish that didn't bother me but it really does.

Deep down I am no different to anyone else. I want to love and be loved. I want to adore and be adored. I want to be free and give freedom. I want to share and receive. I want to have fun and divulge my deepest dreams. I crave a deep connection with someone.

Right now I am awash with pain. My carrot is being held just beyond arms reach and, though I fear it is never going to be available to me, I keep chasing it. I keep reaching out in the vain hope that I can obtain it. The reality is that the carrot is an illusion. There is no carrot. Only pain. So much pain. My heart weighs heavily inside me. My breath is shallow and ineffective. My head pounds. Every moment is a reminder that I am just no good.

Not only am I not good enough but I am stubbornly holding onto something that was probably never there in the first place. I am clutching tight to fantasy. I grab hold of sand and expecting it to stay in my hand rather than slip through between my fingers.

Time is meant to heal all wounds. My wise son said to me on Friday "Mum, when you are as sad as you are all you can do is wait until the pain is ready to go. You cannot force it away". This just seems to be getting worse. It's been twenty six days and I feel like I am being dragged along coarse grade sandpaper. Every part of me hurts. I am consumed by pain and, like the incoming tide, life continues to unrelentingly pound me with more.