Today, I am really not fucking OK.
All that numbness that was going, is gone. Everything is in Technicolor, vivid shades of pain and despair and loneliness and heart ache.
How loud do I have to scream? What’s the point of telling people to speak up, but when I do, I’m still ignored?
Do you need to go hospital? I’ve been asked that a few times today, when I’ve rang people, unable to stop crying.
No. How fucking stupid. I need people. I need company. That’s all. I just need people to talk to.
With the exception of my lovely Sarie- who has just come of pregnancy bedrest and still offered to jump in her car and drive three hours to me if I needed her, bless her and every part of her soul- most people in my real life seem to suck a bit.
I think I reached a new low of loneliness when I actually offered to pay a friend to have the day off work and come and be with me- just freaking be with me, nothing else, not even do a thing for me or my kids- and it’s still too difficult.
I know, there are a million people online who offer company and support, and I adore you all for that…but I’m sure you’ll understand when I say that I want people I know and love and are already familiar and comfortable with. (I had an interesting conversation the other night with some bloggers over whether people would be as supportive if I knew you all In Real Life- but that’s another post, for another day.)
As my bestie Emma said on the phone to me today- I just really want to people to give a fuck about me. I just really want someone who loves me to care enough about me to see that I am really, really, really not coping right now. And I don’t need a hospital or any more drugs. I need real, physical, practical support.
I have trouble asking for help.
It makes me feel weak and selfish. I always feel like I am burdening people, putting them out.
I don’t ask for help very often. The last six months, I’ve done this on my own. The help I’ve asked for involved taking care of my kids. And I always feel as if I ask a little too much, too often.
A couple of days a fucking fortnight.
But people are busy, and tired, and they work, and all of those things are more important than me, no matter how badly I’m hurting.
I think I’ve been hurting for too long now, maybe? Hurting for too long, expecting too much.
It just breaks my heart. I scream for help. No one cares. I’ve heard it before, so many times- people have their own lives to live, they can’t put themselves out for me.
But I don’t ask often.
Only when I really, really need it.
And that’s now.
My mum is coming tomorrow. And I will hold out until then. I just wish I didn’t have to.