Tears & a Tea Party

Yesterday wasn’t my best day.

Its just one of those things when to get to work you have to get through half an hour of sobbing. I was so goddamn tired.  But it was more than that aching bone weariness of my body giving up on me; – I cried like I had forgotten I could, for no reason at all -except that somewhere inside myself I hurt and I couldn’t stop.

Sometimes when you cry you can hear the thoughts rattling round, sometimes the emotions of fear or frustration or loneliness or regret or loss eke through but yesterday I couldn’t tell if I was crying because my hormones had turned upside down or because of a lifetime’s worth of mistakes and regrets. It doesn’t matter now. Now I was crying because I was upset and depressed and because the chemicals in my body were fucked up but yesterday when I wanted to stop and wanted to cry forever the fact that I had no idea why made it worse.

All the same, a day at work achieved even with the crises of a co-worker and no alcohol. Today I am able to be proud of that – yesterday I came home, had a nap, watched tv and went to bed again.

Tired again today, like my whole body is protesting, like I just need to give up for a while, like some more painkillers are the only way forward.

But to birthday tea I go. At my wife’s request I shall wear my wedding dress and to make me brave I shall bring the boy. Then home again to sleep.



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