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Landslide

The work on the landslide has been suspended again.They are waiting for Western Power to make the electricity cables safe, and the latter are delayed by the urgent work they have to do in the Somerset levels. Meanwhile, due to work on the footbridge over the Midford Brook (I think) this part of the village could be completely cut off from 22nd Feb for about a week.

This is a nuisance, but things could be much worse. We haven't been flooded out, and the work has been proceeding intermittently.

Unfortunately, I am feeling very low again. I feel remarkably like Sisyphus, condemned to push a boulder up a hill for all eternity. The boulder just makes it to the top and then - damn it! - rolls right the way down to the foot again.

Part of the problem is very mundane. It relates to hormones and I won't bang on about it. Mood  swings, up and down like a yo-yo, blah.

There are times when, with this condition, or state of mind, you can't talk about it. Because, on the one hand, you're ashamed (stupid mad thoughts, anyone?) and on the other, it's not interesting. You want to go blurt blurt blargh but all the kind, reassuring comments in the world are not going to help. The thoughts will recur. Or next week, tomorrow even, they will be replaced by different thoughts which upset one just as much and which seem equally convincing - while the last lot are forgotten.

I feel very isolated. Not just me; I feel that Stephen and I are very vulnerable. More particularly Stephen. He was very thrown by the landslide (natch) but there is real life stuff out there.

Like my Dad (I think) I am an optimistic pessimist. I am hopeful but a lot of the time I expect disaster. And irony. There have been times in my life when truly good, wonderful things have happened. There have been nice moments.

But I do sometimes think about people like Debbie Miller, who died last year from secondaries of breast cancer. I mean, what's that about? What's that for? I went on the writing course with David Gemmell in 1994 and that was such a wonderful course - everything seemed so hopeful. Now Gemmell is dead and Debbie as well. I've lost touch with some of the others, it's just me and David Coles left.

The thing is, it's terrible losing your parents and I haven't come to terms with it, but it is part of the natural order of things (whether one likes it or not). They were old.

Comments

( 4 comments — Leave a comment )
me_ya_ri
Feb. 17th, 2014 11:16 pm (UTC)
I haven't much to offer besides hugs so *hugs*

I still haven't quite gotten over my father's death and that was years ago now. He shows up in my dreams on a regular basis, sometimes looking as he did when I was young. Other times, harder times, he looks like he did at the end. :( Either way, I'm always happy-sad when he does show up in my dreams. At least he isn't forgotten and is still a part of life, you know?

*ahem* Depressing thoughts happen. I hope that your mood swings back up again! *more hugs*
glass_mountain
Feb. 18th, 2014 12:29 pm (UTC)
Hugs are good. And much appreciated! (((hugs)))

I am better today. I think things go critical when real-world stuff gets mixed up with mad stuff.

You know...I'm not convinced one does get over a parent's death. I think you can adjust and carry on - but still. Like you, I'm always pleased (happy-sad is a good word) when I dream about Mum or Dad. It does feel very real on some level.

The thing about your Dad looking like he did at the end is tough. I'm lucky in a way because my father died suddenly, and I never saw his body. Stephen's Dad died of a brain tumour, which was awful.

The good thing is that it's bright and sunny here today!
la_marquise_de_
Feb. 18th, 2014 04:00 pm (UTC)
Sends positive thoughts.
glass_mountain
Feb. 18th, 2014 07:23 pm (UTC)
Much appreciated! My head is better (hm, I think) but the circumstances are still rather bleurgh.

( 4 comments — Leave a comment )