Greetings From 2am

Greetings from 2am.

I'm wide awake as you may have guessed. Being awake of course means that my brain is well awake too and tonight it's doing lots of thinking.

At the moment it's doing a pretty good job of telling me that my life is basically fucked. Which is most likely true.

I've been thinking a lot about work. At some point I'll have to go back. Will there still be a job for me? How the bloody hell am I going to cope with having to interact with that many people at once again? I spent this (actually technically yesterday) afternoon with Mum and her friends and I could barely keep up with the three of them and follow the conversation. How am I going to re-immerse myself into a team of 60?

I could quite happily never go back but that will achieve nothing. I can't just walk out of a perfectly good job, there is no way I will get another like this one. Plus in my current mental state no-one in their right mind would hire me.

I don't think I would be being over-dramatic in saying that I am broken. I feel like a quarter of the person I used to be (sadly not in size but ho hum). I honestly don't feel I have anything left to offer the world that's of any use. I'm not even saying that in a depressed 'woe is me' manner. It's a fact.

When í'm awake like this I get the opportunity to write endless mental lists of last words and thoughts, pondering what I want to be remembered by. Do I want to leave words forgiving bullies at school and work? Or would I rather leave an angry vengeful note stating explicitly what I think of them? Obviously any final words for my family and friends would be nothing but love because that's what they are to me and that's what I've always received from them.

I'm not saying that I'm planning on taking my life by any means, I need to make that very clear. But it's amazing how much clarity you get at this time of night.
I can think of these things in an orderly manner, detached of emotion. I can plan out instructions of where I want any money I have to go, who I want my possessions to go to (hope you have room for all the Mars junk Helen :p) and the stipulation that the buns stay here.

I guess actually rather than being morose and planning any kind of demise it's more of an acceptance that my condition will only allow me to exist rather than live a life. The hopes and dreams I still clung onto have long been put on the funeral pyre.

The silly thing is that despite not being able to sleep I am still devoid of any energy whatsoever. In the mornings I get up early to feed and clean out the girls and get them sorted for the day. Then I just go back to bed because there's no point to anything else.

My depressed mood seems to have gone and has been replaced by a numb nothingness which weirdly can be worse, in the same way that my hypomanic states can be, because of my increased restlessness and ability to go from happy to furious in under a second I'm far more likely to do something stupid then rather than when í'm depressed and lacking the energy to even lift my head.

Anyways that's enough mental meandering from me, I reckon there's a good chance that there's an episode of Ancient Aliens or the like awaiting me if I go downstairs and pop Sky on.

Thank god for all night TV!

Love Jen
XxxxX