That you’ll never be the same again.
Sure. If I keep on top of myself and I’m careful and I have a hell of a lot of luck I *might* be able to put our lives back together. For awhile. Some bits. The important ones I’m hoping.
What’s important has changed. And that’s not all together a bad thing.
I’ve lost most of my friends, which I only realised today when I really sat down and thought about it. Some of the few that remain are surprises, as are some of the ones who left.
I haven’t written much about it, but there are cracks in my relationship with Bailey now. At the start of the year I would have said we were bulletproof.
He’s over me being sick, and everything that comes with it, and I don’t blame him one little bit. I’m tired, on edge. Everytime I start to get on top of things, something happens. I love him more than life, but fuck this is hard to deal with. I’m failing him, doing heaps of things I thought I’d never do, just to cope.
He asks why it was his mummy who had to get sick, and I have no way to answer that.
He lucked out with me, really.
I’m having a flat day, obviously, but overall I’m still doing ok :). I’m not getting a heap of sleep, because I was honest enough with my Doctors to admit that I shouldn’t really be trusted with pills at this point, and it was one of the harder things I’ve had to verbalise lately. Of course, I want them badly and I’m kicking myself a little now, but I know myself, and unfortunately I think I’m always going to struggle a bit with things that can numb me or take me away.
Alcohol, sugar, pills, cigarettes, sex, it’s all part of the same problem for me, and I’m committed to sorting that shit out. I’m not an alcoholic, a sex-addict, I’m a chronic cope-r, and I just do anything in order to keep going and then to switch my brain and feelings off at the end of the day.
I think I’ll get to the point where I don’t need to, because I’m starting to notice the things I fucking love about my life, and building on them.
So Craig called me other day. He didn’t have Bailey the previous weekend so other than me texting him to say Bailey was sick, we hadn’t had any contact, and for a couple of weeks before that, it was very quick drop offs, no dinner, no chat. Basically because Fuck him.
It was awkward. Up until now, unless it’s been in the direct aftermath of a massive fight we’ve still been able to talk pretty easily. I mean, I could talk to practically anyone though.
‘Hey, I was just wondering how you were? What’s happening?’
‘Um, nothing much, you? Did you want to speak to Bman?’
‘No…I just wanted to know how you are? How’s treatment?’
‘Yep. It’s fine thanks. How’s work?’
‘I miss you’
-disbelieving laughter, massive smile-
‘I don’t really care’
You know those moments that make life worth living? Pretty sure that was one of them.