I care about you all...even if I don't write comments
A page in the diary "Good mourning!"
Written by Luise 16. Nov 2007 07:35 AM
Sorry all,
I wanted to leave comments and thank you all for your comments on my last diary entries. You are such good people, so caring. I followed your stories and read some of your diary entries over the last some days, and I felt with you, but I simply couldn't write anything comforting or encouraging.
I am in autopilot mode at the moment: wake up, survive the day, go to bed. I hate how I feel, I just hate it and I don't see any way out and I know this is so stupid. I didn't expect I would write such an entry so soon, I was always so brave, wasn't I? The worst thing is that I am so confused – I don't see a reason. It's not the kind of feeling that can be cured by some "mourning work". I just don't find the reason, the root of this relapse. There are so many things, and on the other hand there are so many good things, and I simply can't be happy about them.
I have a job interview in spain next week. They called me to say they really liked my test piece and if I could come for a job interview next wednesday. I will be in spain and smell spanish air. And some days later I will go to spain again, as I'm invited by a client, and I will stay for some days longer and sit in cafes and drink spanish coffee. Isn't that great? I should be happy, I should look forward to the job interview and especially to the job, I should WANT the job, but instead there is just emptiness and the stupid belief that nothing will ever make me feel better.
Ayla, can you help me like you did last time, please???
Since that argument with my friend almost one week ago I am soo unwell. I try to believe that it doesn't matter, because it is not my mistake, but hers, and I don't need a person like her who always makes me feel like I have done something wrong.
She seems to mean business. Yesterday we had our choir rehearsal – which is one of the constant good things in my life – and she neither spoke to me nor looked at me. She simply ignored me. And it hurts me so much, although I find it childish and bitchy. I can't tolerate something like that at the moment.
The poetry therapist told me to let go of the canada memories and JUST LIVE, and I'm sure she's right, and I'm trying hard, but especially in these difficult times it feels like giving up the last home I have. "Come out of the bathtub of your memories" she said, and I know what she means, but it is soooooo hard.
I also try to change my eating habits. I have gained some kilos again, not sure whether it's the depression or the meds. Sometimes I feel as if I am losing my "lightweighted" self. Maybe i would feel much better with 40-60 pounds less? Well, let's see it as something good I do for myself. Take care of my body, eat good food, do some exercise.
Canada, by the way, he was very diligent with his exercise. He had lost heaps of weight – maybe 100 pounds or something. Believe me – I saw the photo! You still see the marks of his prior self on his body and in his face. He was so beautiful. He had the beauty of somebody who hadn't always been beautiful. That made him special.
Anyway, here I am, without any comfort. No sweets, no sweet memories. Just the pure life. Which could be beautiful, if I wouldn't be so unlucky to have depression. Poor me!
Love,
Luise.
PS: Shit. I want semolina pudding.