The World According To Me

I've been in a bit of a state lately. This blog is not a completely appropriate forum to vent, as I think I've said before, but it seems that the people I usually am able to vent to is having their own issues. I even tried to call my trusty old gran the other night for a sook and before I could get a word in she told me that my Pop had a heart attack and now requires a triple bypass operation, my uncle had to have an emergency operation to put a shunt in his head and now he has 'cranky issues' and no short term memory, my aunty is having problems with her pregnancy, she's in hospital for complete bed-rest and shall be until the baby is born, and THE CAT DIED FOR FUCKS.

Yesterday I was convinced I was having a break-down. I held it together all day at work, through the most horrid day I can remember, work-wise. I had to make and take heartbreaking phonecalls from which I can usually distance myself, but yesterday everything seemed to affect me profoundly. I sometimes wonder if working in family law is something I can really cope with long-term. I think the mistake I am making is that I just sometimes care. Not care too much, just care. That's the problem. My boss told me once that when he sees new clients one of the first things he says to them is "Well, if you're meeting me, things are already bad for you. You don't want to be meeting me". I wish I could really just distance myself from clients, but it's so difficult. They are going through probably the worst time in their lives and that can't not affect me. I have trouble feeling true sympathy for my close ones simply because if someone is having a hard time of it I make the right noises but really I am thinking of how much worse it can (and does) get.

But this doesn't stop me feeling sorry for myself from time to time. No siree. Because, quite rightly, whatever is happening to me is faaaaar more important and tragic and sad. Because it's happening to me. Yesterday on a scale of one to pathetic on my sook radar, I was at a movie-moment twelve. I drove home from work, my chest tight and feeling overwhelmingly panicked. My eyes stung with tears threatening to spill. The five-minute drive dragged on for what felt like hours. I got inside the front door and then (I'm not proud of this in the slightest) just sank to the floor and howled. Still holding onto my keys, and my handbag, I curled up on that floor and cried my heart out. Gulping, wretched howls and snot aplenty. Lucy came and gave me a lick on the face, then backed away and stared at me, with her head cocked to one side. Esme curled up quietly next to me. Agnes was nowhere to be seen, but then she's the sort of cat that doesn't 'do' emotions. Why all the drama? I didn't know specifically. I wrecked my back last week which required chiropractor appointments and x-rays that I couldn't really afford. My back is still a bit wrecked. I am now officially beyond poor. A lot of my close friends are making plans to move away seemingly en masse, following new, exciting opportunities in new, exciting places. I feel like I'm being left behind. I've put on weight. My house is hot. I'm still paranoid about my job. I've had about 4 consecutive bad hair days. I can't organise myself properly at the moment. I am still angry about why my relationship broke down. I wonder if I am ever going to meet someone who I can trust. I am angry about things my family (the side who aren't taking up all the beds in Perth's hospitals) are doing to eachother at the moment. There's a fucking litany of shit that makes me want to cry and scream and punch stuff. I can't fix everything. I always fix everything. I was told on the weekend, "Kymmy, whatever happens to you you're always so calm, you just take it all in your stride". I don't want them to know that I feel like I've got a frigging tsunami of emotional bullshit inside me right now. It's on red alert.

I have started obsessively listing everything. This is a coping mechanism that I engage to make myself feel as though I've got some control and order in my life, but it's getting laughingly pathetic at the moment. The other day I had to go to the supermarket to get bread and tuna. Two items. Before I left I took the little notebook out that I keep in my handbag and wrote "Bread" and "Tuna" under the headline of "Supermarket". Ridiculous.

I need to make some decisions. I need some focus. I need to formulate some goals and start achieving again. I function better when I'm under pressure, if I'm left to my own devices too long my head hurts and usually my heart does too.

And I promise that next time I post, it'll be something happy and good.