The Monster Under the Bed

There's an element of the 8-year old in that title...

It's been a difficult day. I now appreciate that these do happen, but earlier, the world was caving in and I was in that darkest place. It's almost impossible to explain, at least using words, what that place is like unless you've visited yourself. It's currently gone 3am. I've just received a drunken phone call from Mr. Field and the world is regaining some sort of normality. Irrationality has been replaced by calmness and some perspective. I sit here listening to the Les Miserables soundtrack, which has the ironic ability to bring a smile to my face, as I remember the good days in which I was the lighting co-director for the school production, back in the day.

But instead of ignoring the phase I've just been through, I'm going to attempt to describe what it feels like, with the best of the apparent writing ability I possess. I didn't feel well this morning. I could hardly get out of bed, and this isn't down to laziness. It was almost a state of living rigamortis. The feeling of facing the world is one of absolute dread when the darkness has descended. There is science behind that somewhere, but I don't really understand it. I spent the whole day at work on the verge of tears as the thoughts built up into a chasm of unrest and unwanted hatred. I couldn't even be bothered to grace my Twitter feed with the thoughts of an opinionated individual, which is what I usually do during the quiet periods instead of twiddling my thumbs, staring at the assortment of birthday cards that sit on the other side of the glass screen in front of me. The clock was seemingly going backwards, the customers who are usually greeted with a smile and endless equanimity were instead welcomed with a grunt and a point towards the new contactless card reader. Most elderly customers need constant directions on how to use it. Usually, I repeat them countless times with the patience and grace that I pride myself on, but not today. I didn't have the composure or the intestinal fortitude to willingly endure such nonsense. I wasn't rude or boorish, just... unforbearing.

I can't do it. I can't explain what it feels like without going off on a tangent. It's like a fog has clouded your brain, making you blind to why you are even bothering to exist. What exactly is the point in being here? That's what I think when I find myself in the midst of the impenetrable murkiness of my own brain. For that is what I do. I sit and think. But instead of think about good things - like fun parties I've been to, or that header I scored as an 11 year old to take us to the cup final or that monologue I FINALLY managed to get out on stage after 2 failed attempts, I think about ... other things. I don't want to talk about them, as I said I never would again. I'd just start to cry.

But what can you do? There are going to be bad days, and amazingly enough, I acknowledged that fact whilst huddled in the middle of my duvet at 7pm this very evening. "This will go away, just hang on in there". This cimmerian shade of uselessness will soon be replaced by the person I love. I like who I am when I'm happy. I'm fun, active and a little bit of a weird bloke - which is always a good thing. I have a knack of surprising people with things that people say they'll do one day but never actually do it. People say they'll do it, but don't.

I do. I enjoy the adventure of doing strange things. I once spontaneously turned up on Beddoe's doorstep, 200 miles away in Manchester. He never knew I was coming, I just turned up.  A few weeks ago, I bought a shot of sambuca for the whole of the front row of people waiting at the bar. I didn't know them, but it bought a smile to everyone's face, so why not? I once bought a homeless man a baguette and a cake from Greggs because he looked sad. How many people can say they've done that?

And oh, I do complain a lot, but that's easy to get past I think.

But that is replaced by someone I am not when something I don't know about takes effect in my brain. Like I say, I don't know the science behind it that well. I hardly talk, and when I do, it takes an effort of monumental proportions to even say "yes" or "ok". I change into someone else, and that is a scary thought, is it not?

I'm afraid there are going to a few posts like this during the coming Winter months. There always seems to be, but I need to get these thoughts out in one of the few methods I know how. I ask for your patience if you come across me during a bad stage, but they do pass. Also, I'd love a bit of (honest) feedback on what I write, as it means a lot to me. This blog has been running for almost 3 years... Quite an amazing feat, if I may say so myself. It's almost 4am, and despite having the sleeping pattern of a rampant hedgehog, I must concede that sleep wouldn't be the worst idea right now.

I'm in a reflective mood...