A day at a time

Having things to do to get my place feeling more like home has been necessary in order for me to cope with living alone again. It is a position I didn't expect to be in at all, but I find myself here nonetheless. Spending Saturday buying bits and pieces was more a survival mechanism than anything else. I didn't immediately need any of the items I bought, but I did need to go and buy them so that I'd feel like I was doing something good for myself.

I'll check my bank balance later and be pissed off that I've had another setback from my 'no debt by October' goal (looking more like it'll be around Jan or Feb if all goes to plan), but I'm resigning myself to that feeling and I'm being kinder to myself than I normally would - on the money side of things, anyway.

People are keeping in touch with me more than usual. I've even called my mum a couple of times and she's been strangely helpful in keeping me feeling ok. She's been more, "you're doing well" and less, "you poor thing", than I expected. Regardless, she's been one of the necessary distractions in the last week that I've been glad to have had. The fact that she's pressuring me to go visit her is something I'm ignoring at the moment. I'll deal with that later.

The last week has been spent organising my lounge and kitchen. From the photos, you can tell there's not much to be organised, but it's amazing the time that can be spent rearranging chairs and cushions when you don't want to sit still.

This week, I'll concentrate on my bedroom. I haven't done anything in there, and most of my clothes are still in my suitcases. I'm sure I can fill a few days rearranging my wardrobes.

The moments when I'm too tired to distract myself are the hardest. C and I had tickets to see the Lion King on Saturday. He took el kiddo instead. I tried not to think about it, but it was something I was really looking forward to. Tomorrow, they fly to the Gold Coast for 10 days. I was going to go to Brisbane during that time and see my dad for the first time in a few years. It's hard not to be bitter about things like that. It's hard not to be resentful and it's hard not to try to seek some sort of retribution....to want to make him suffer as much as me. (And while I'm on the subject of suffering, it should come as no surprise that I shut my hurt finger - the one I thought I broke - in a door this morning. Such is my luck lately.)

I know myself. It will be all too easy for me to sit and analyse and think and analyse some more, once I have more free time on my hands. I don't want to do that. I want to feel as strong as everyone keeps telling me I am. I want to feel like things are going to be ok.

Right now though, I don't feel strong and I don't feel ok. I'm doing what I have to do, because I have to do it. I don't know how else to be. It's a really crap sensation. It's not like I haven't been through hurt and breakups before. I do recognise that there's anger and a grieving process to go through. I do know that somehow, something good will come from all that's happened.

But in the moments when it's just me and my thoughts, I feel like I'm drowning, and it all just freakin' sucks.