Last night we went for a walk. We both saw a shooting star but at different times. I took photographs of suburban gardens at midnight. Everything was still except for us and the occasional taxi. Our world was lit silver by the moon.
Tonight, I stood outside looking for shooting stars, I saw two, both out of the corner of my eye. I would’ve liked to have seen more but there was a lot of light pollution and I couldn’t be bothered to walk to the park and besides it’s very creepy after dark with the strange disembodied sounds that travel across the landscape from the hills and distant moors.
The air had an autumnal chill.
I fell asleep before I could finish writing. I wish now I’d stayed outside longer now.
Yesterday, the one-day flower flowered. It breaks my heart every year. The flower that smiles today, tomorrow dies. Today, it is all shrivelled and my heart is broken. Even with the warm sun on the back of my neck.
I feel filled with this oddly muted anger. I feel angry about the situation, the decline in my mental health and failings that led to me being in this situation. It’s a long time since I have felt anger. It was something that was solved easily during therapy: once the anger was legitimised, it faded away.
I am not coping again. I keep trying to bring some sort of equilibrium to the situation but I just can’t seem to keep it together. It’s really frustrating. I feel like I did pre-therapy. The withdrawal effects of the escitalopram aren’t helping, I feel a lot of the mood issues can be attributed to them.
I just want to be asleep all of the time. Dreaming my life away, even the recent nightmares of being shot in the head and cannibalised feel preferable right now.
I hate fucking whining like this. I like to solve problems. It’s the not coping: when trying to come up with a plan, I quickly feel overwhelmed, even small steps feel too much.
Anyway, it’s 1.15 am. I’m lying in the dark. 1.25 am. Still lying in the dark. I’m going to get up and drink some water. 1.43 am. I’ve drunk some water and eaten a biscuit.
It’s really quiet tonight. I thought the window was closed. I have the fan on now.
I remember Coventry. I remember we passed through it when travelling across the country from Kent. I remember Coventry but I don’t remember it well. It exists as a few fading photographs my brain took as I looked for the floodlights of Highfield Road. (I had a habit of spotting football grounds on long journeys when I was young.) I don’t think I saw them, I suspect we didn’t pass close enough to the Hillfields area where the ground used to be.