Grief. What a strange thing. It’s dawned on me that I’m carrying so much weight inside myself. I’ve not been fully ‘myself’ for a while again now. Maybe a few weeks but maybe longer. Others think I’m ok because they see the mask but don’t see past it. They think they do but they don’t. They don’t even realise there is a mask there for me. Sometimes even I don’t realise that it’s there. A few months of being level and kind of normal or normal for me and I thought I had healed myself. I haven’t. I’m far from that. I need a holiday. I’m not sure where to or what from. Anyway I can’t grieve. I don’t feel I can or that I’m allowed. I have to keep my nose to the grindstone keeping the money coming in and chasing my tail. I fear I’ll crack again.
It’s funny really hiding from myself and from others. They should be able to see the signs but either they don’t or they ignore them or maybe they notice them but don’t say anything. I don’t know. It is what it is. I survive everything. I cope with everything. I don’t have an option of not coping. I fear that my wife has a drink problem. She doesn’t drink every. Ishtar but the nights that she does drink she will drink a bottle of wine in about 40 minutes and sometimes she drinks up to 4 nights or so a week. It has been 5 nights a week before. It’s something else that plays on my mind. Churning away. I know it’s not healthy too.
So here I am back writing stuff. I promised myself I’d write everyday when I started but it slipped. Maybe it’s a mirror of my mind. Its slipping as is my writing. Oh well such is life. I’ll cope by not coping until I crack I guess. Then everyone will wonder what the fuck is going on yet again. Hahahahhaha