Christmas is over. The toys are laying around, with nowhere to go. School starts next week. There's much work to be done. But I haven't been able to do it. Last night was the worst night I've had in a long time. After a late night, I went to bed, slept and woke at around 5 and started thinking. Sometimes I do wish I could just stop (thinking).
I'm struggling again with the 'unfair situation' and the longing to be home is strong. Maybe it's the time of year, month... Whatever, it's strong and I'm struggling to fight it. Not that I'll be taking off anywhere soon. In the deepest recesses of my mind, there sits a decision that's been made, locked tightly into a box that cannot be opened until 3 (more) years pass. By that time, my children and I will have spent 6 years here. Not that long compared to a lifetime of years, but long enough to leave a lasting impression on my children. It's true, I don't know what will happen at the end of the 3 years, but I dare not go there, thinking that it may not turn out as I want it to.
Physically, I'm lethargic and dazed, only putting out enough energy to get the basics done. Though we went to Malacca yesterday for a movie and some grocery shopping, the trip wiped me out to the point where I had to sleep before making dinner for me and the kids. Ex is away this weekend with some friends. He's got to do our son's education visa today and went down to meet some people who want him to do a web site for them. The web site's theme is gambling. Nice (not). Actually I don't care - I don't know if I should care - I don't like gambling and rarely partake and I know how destructive gambling can be for families. But it's work and we need the money. If he doesn't do it, someone else will. So ex is away, leaving the kids and I to our own devices.
But I'm not in a good way - it feels like depression. I hope it's not. I know I will have to work hard to come up again, to experience the happiness I had for a short while. My muscles ache, I crave sugar and bad food, I'm tired all the time and don't want to do what needs to be done. The house needs a good clean up to get ready for the new year and I'm just not able to get going. I think about what needs to be done all the time. I just don't do it.
And I'm ashamed and embarrassed for being this way, knowing what I know from the countless hours of reading and analysing myself. And I hate myself even more for it. The self loathing is something I used to have all the time and was one of the first things I dealt with when I decided that my situation needed a different perspective. A positive mind and self loathing can't exist in the same space. It just doesn't work, so one of them had to go. Now there seems to have been a switch, the loathing is back, the positive has moved out.
That's where I am at the moment. I've got exactly one week to pull myself up again and get going so that I can deal with the year ahead. Next week school starts, my private tuition starts again and the kids at the autistic centre start their new school year and need me to keep them on track. They are my commitments and I need to honour them.
Until then, the kids seem to argue constantly, I've put on 2 kilos, my hands are itchy and raw from my allergy to soap, the kids allergies are bothering them again, ex has started saying 'you should...blah, blah, blah" and "you this and you that" (ugggh, I can't stand it), the house is a mess and the kids, though they're acting just like kids, are really getting on my nerves. Oh yes, and most disappointingly of all, my friends had to pull out of a weekend away that we'd be planning. I was sooooo disappointed because I'd been looking forward to getting away for the night (yep, just one), to relax and laugh, drink coffee and have some good "girl chat" time with my friend. When they had to cancel (and they only told me at the last minute), I almost cried - but I smiled and said "that's life, don't worry about it" and took my disappointment out on myself with coffee and dark chocolate to soothe the emotions whirling around inside.
1 week. Yet again I find myself getting up off the floor and dusting myself off. It seems to be the story of my life. The title of my biography would read "Getting up...again....and again....and yet again". I've got many steps to take this week, to get me up again. It's almost overwhelming and yet, if I look at it from my rational mind, these are only things that need to be done, in a given amount of time. If I pick myself up, switch off the tv and just do, then it will get done. If I lay down and wallow, I will be in the same position next week but with people knocking at my door and calling my phone while the kids cry and wonder where the hell their uniforms are.
So, to life. I need to be there. Just writing that paragraph above about how life will be next week is enough to spur me on to get the next job done.
The powers of writing will never cease to amaze me.
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