Very, very early this morning I made a deal with my inner self, and that was to wake up with a positive attitude, it was a deal I made just so that I could sleep. I can’t sleep, even when I do, I dream about this mess, so it’s never far from my thoughts always lurking in the background or skulking in the foreground, just in case I have the audacity to forget, as flaming if.

So I need to give myself a break, I need to take ‘a week off’ from all thoughts swirling around about the break-up, from the future, from the past, from what-ifs, and what about. I may find this difficult because I’m still in the family home, surrounded by the same sickingly happily married neighbours, I’m still dealing with joint bills, still cleaning the same house, still sleeping in the same bed in the same room, and I’m still blogging. So this task, if I choose to accept, may prove difficult, but I need to try, or quite frankly I may have a massive meltdown, well another one anyway.

My first point of call on the path of positive ponderances is to get an appointment with the GP.  Wow, there’s a task I didn’t realise would be so difficult. It took 25 minutes to get through to an actual queue of callers, really! So 25 minutes of an listening to an engaged tone, which by the way I now saw as a challenge and refused to give up, before jumping into a queue of callers and listen to some classical crap. On a positive note, at least I’d reached the next level, yay! After 10 minutes I got through to the receptionist who insisted that I give her the lowdown. Why on this holy earth do they insist on knowing what’s wrong? My bets are on it being for office gossip, to band about and see who has the saddest, or most gruesomist phone call. Anyway, I refused, which is probably why I was given an appointment 3 days later! Maybe I should have told her, and I may have got an appointment sooner, she could have then used that as banter in the office and quite probably won a trophy for the saddest phone call, I have a suspicion she may interpret that as the rudest phone call…

This is a fairly boring blog about yet another day of coping with being dumped, and another day with no explanation. It’s about another day of keeping my mouth shut and not screaming at how  unfair this whole bloody mess is, it’s about not being heard or understood, it’s about how I need to maintain a level of normality for the kids in order to let them see I’m coping,  so that they can cope.  I believe that type of thinking is very stereotypically female and wouldn’t even enter on the male radar. It’s about how I bartered with my own self to just get some sleep, about the trials of just getting some help and the hoops you need to jump through in order to get that help. World, get lost, just for tonight!

Keep smiling.









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