Gremlins

I didn't sleep a wink. Tossing and turning till four in the morning. Got up, ate a piece of toast, sat on my sofa with smoke coming out of my ears.

Considered: throwing a bit of furniture around; kicking The Man up the backside and pulling the covers off the bed; screaming till the windows fell out. Decided none of this would be wise and settled for a good snarl and a few punches at the air. Then turned on the light and skimmed through the first six chapters of a study book on Portuguese. Might as well do something with the anger...

Somewhere in the middle of all this I found myself remembering scenes from my teens where a male relative who shall be nameless had been openly flirting with other women while his wife sat by looking small and helpless. I remembered anger and pain lodging in me somewhere deep down as I, her daughter, soaked up her humiliation. It surprised me to discover that hurt, well hidden among all the other wounds from that time. Surface and disperse, Hurt, you've had your time...

Funny, what these gremlins have uncovered.

Today I got up feeling (a) worn out (b) pissed off (c) sullen (d) withdrawn. Remembered a book I have called 'The Power of Now' by Eckhardt Tolle. It's one of those books about being open to what happens, working through pain, not resisting the 'now'. Sounds good in theory. Can it be applied now as I'm dealing with a self-made drama that hasn't happened yet? (Read yesterday's entries if you're confused.)

I don't know, but reading those few pages from that book has made me feel better. Like something opened up. As though I've released myself from my own claustrophobic clench. Can breathe a bit more easily. I've taken my sister Rachel's advice and made an appointment with the doctor. I'd like her to examine my chest, you understand, not my head... I've showered, washed my hair, put on some clean clothes, thrown another bundle of holiday washing into the machine, made myself a cup of mint tea and considered the possibility that it could be FUN to go to a party with a bunch of Russians.

Ugh.. hold on a minute, I'm just having another mental spasm...

Let's just deal with NOW. Bud's just come home, as it happens - that wasn't what I was expecting - and has announced himself in Papiemento at the door. We have this kids' game of asking for a password. "A donkey without a tail," he said. I won't bother to analyse that... He's not well himself and has just snapped at me for not immediately replying to something he said. Heh ho, here we go. Where's that book?