Words of warning and welcome:

This is very much my blog, so don't be surprised if this doesn't follow accepted patterns and norms. It is a place where I can be anonymous and honest, and I appreciate that.

It will deal with many things and new readers would do well to check out the "Story So Far" Page above this and the "New Readers" tag down there on the right. Although there's nothing too bad in here there will be adult language, so be careful. If you think this needs a greater control, please let me know. Thank you!

Sunday, 7 July 2019

What I do

One of the things I am best at is using people up and alienating sympathetic ears.

This came to me on Friday when I started ranting about things out loud again to a new person who hadn't heard it all before. They were, as most people are initially, sympathetic and keen to help. However, I know that, in time, they will be less so. I shall say something that sounds 'off' or goes too far and then this avenue will curtail and disappear. Best of intent, best wishes, all of that, but there will be an ending of the discussion. Thus, with the dark calculus already being used in my mind, I left that conversation and went home in the heat. It had been a long day. I am stressed, still in marking Hell, still reeling from my mother's visit two weeks ago, still worrying about getting things done and painfully aware how little help I have been to the family. Contextless, and true.

On Saturday I thus went into the day and missed my chance to do the shopping in the morning. Or mark. Tilly tells me I am dealing better with stress this year than last, she's impressed, I don't feel it. I thank her but tell her I feel worse this year than last. I took the Boy to his football, and I was unaware, as I always am, of my emotional state. Of how bad it is has clearly become. Since my mother visited I haven't spoken to her, it had been two weeks, I was concerned that maybe I'd gone too far when she was here. I rang her. I was right. My mother is now too scared to speak to me. Nice, good going. Then there was some stupidity, whilst I was trying to avoid people (people never leave me alone when I say I want to be left alone, and will pursue if you walk away), and I exploded. Unforgivable. I am an adult, I don't get to explode to a child. No sympathy here, no explanation, just stating bald fact. And it's right.

Long day. Evening. The parent is on Facebook, I have gone too far. Now I cannot go back to football, and rightly so. The Boy can, but Tilly will have to organise it. And she has precious little left to give to such things. My dark calculus on Friday rewarded, but early. Far earlier than I had anticipated. Another shot, backlit with my temper, of my life.

All of which, of course, comes to a further head this morning. Tilly has been mulling all night on it. Instant end to all efforts on her side, instant reversion to previous save points. Am I worth sticking around? How long until I break something that is even more important with my anger, my outbursts? No, she's too stressed to discuss it now (the family are off to see a show). She knows I want to make amends but there's a horrid uncanny valley disconnect because the problem remains and won't change. Get anger-management classes, therapy, counselling, anything. This is why I told her to find someone else, she deserves better. Ah, she says, we're back here again. I don't know what else to say, what else to do. There is no situation that I cannot make worse.

My last therapy ended with me suicidal, I think I related that here, and the problem isn't anger. If it were I would have had enough warning to get out of the situation. But I didn't, so I didn't, and it was like I was trapped watching myself make a hash of everything. It always is.