Hellish start

I have had the worst start to any year. Ever. I just want to crawl into a hole and never come out. With each day I think things can't get worse. But they do. Every. Single. Fucking. Day.

While I am grateful for so many things - my adorable children, my gorgeous family, my home and my dependable, delightful friends. I feel like I am being torn apart. Slowly ripped to pieces then each if those pieces frozen and shattered into a million little shards.

I miss my kids. Enough said. It's too traumatic for me to think about how trapped and useless I feel about this.

I have no money to travel and no way to make any so I can. For the next eleven years I am trapped. I'll be nearly fifty by then. It's just too fucked up for words.

Single life does not appeal to me. I love love. I like to cherish someone special. I love holding hands, tongue kissing, long leisurely cuddles and sleeping wrapped up with my man. I miss sex. I like sharing my thoughts with someone I value. But I am not the kind of person that can pick up at a bar or nightclub. There's no way I am strong enough to handle the trials and tribulations of online dating either. So I am destined to be alone. 

My Dad has a terminal illness and the end is getting closer. Understandably, Mum is really struggling   I want to be able to help her but she's too proud to accept it. She's so generous with everyone else I just want to nurture her. 

I am playing a game of legal tennis that I can ill afford. 

I am falling apart physically. I have damaged my gluteus medius and cannot afford all the associated medical expenses to fix it, my front tooth is chipped and in need of repair, my hair doesn't grow and has started falling out in great chunks again, my nails break too easily and I am losing the skin on my nose from blowing it so much. 

I can't sleep. So, I succumbed to the pressure and I took a sleeping tablet last night. It had the opposite to the desired effect and I found myself walking at three in the morning to try to quiet my mind. And sweat! Wow. Four showers later and I think I have all the salt off. 

None of my usual vices are working - dance, music, friends, family, walking or yoga. I feel everything but nothing simultaneously. 

Thursday is dancing night. I didn't go dancing last week and forced myself to go this week to fulfil a promise I made. I'm just not feeling it since New Years. I don't feel free like I used to when I dance. I just feel like old milk - sour and past my expiry date. 

I'm tired of being a fighter. Just let me live!

As I water the gorgeous garden of the house I am looking after while dear friends are holidaying I realise there is no hope. 

I had such grand hopes for 2014.