Thursday, July 12, 2007


I have become the unhinged woman

I tell this to a friend as I watch the cars piercing through the cold night. Taillights reflecting off the wet black road.
The Saturday night club-babies stand outside on the wet pavement and smoke their fags. Their laughter and conversations are just a strange mime from this vantage point.

I thought I was going to have a nervous breakdown - but didn't - and now I think I'm dealing with the inevitable hibernation that comes with not wanting to face reality.

I want to forget I exist.

G is sympathetic, relaying a story of her own brief dive into madness - the lack of decision making ability, the feeling of helplessness, the constant anxiety.

I feel anxious too. I feel like the world is closing in on me and that being on holidays is a welcome relief but soon it will all be back to reality.

Quit, stop, be happy.

She says, as though it's that easy.

You have a husband, security and support - you have other things you can do. You can quit, stop and be happy. I live in a different world where stopping and quitting means drowning.

It's different. You're speaking from an ivory tower.

I think the last bit.

Did you quit, stop and be happy when you were becoming unhinged?

I say that part.


Ahh. I see. Easier said than done, right?

Okay, I see your point but you're going to get into trouble if you keep going like this.

I pick up my coffee cup, bring it to my lips and blow into the chocolate coloured mixture below until the steam billows towards me, warming my cheek bones and nose.

It's not the what.

I say slowly.

I know exactly what to do. What is easy. It's the how that is hard. And the 'what if' that scares me. I need tangible answers to my dilema and I don't know how to answer them myself. If I did, it wouldn't have come to this. It annoys me when people give me a what and then stand back wondering why I haven't just done it. Maybe I just want to vent. Maybe I just want the support of knowing that I have friends who don't need to be saviors they just love me enough to want to be there for me. Why would they be frustrated if I never asked for their opinion in the first place anyway? I just want their ears.

Because they're arseholes.

We laugh.


I'm sorry, you're actually right. I remember when I was in rut I had a lot of people telling me what I needed to do, but not many people were there to actually help me though that when it came down to it. There are a lot of people out there who will tell you something to make themselves feel like they're 'helping'. when really, they're self serving "oh look, I try so hard to help but they just don't listen - what ELSE can I do?.

G gives a mock angelic look.


M. I don't know about "the how".

I look up - half smile and half sigh.

Neither do I. And thanks for admitting that. It's a hard one to know.

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