*cringes at the thought of this being out there* However, I fear keeping it inside is worse for my head.
I haven't told anyone the results of my latest assignments. Usually I tell my parents what I got - after all, they are allowing me to leave in their house, eat their food, use up their electricity etc. etc.. However, I don't want them to know, because it would result in them saying "well done" and moving on. If they were 23%, things would be different, but they aren't (the percentage is in triple figures, if you get my drift). So to all intents and purposes I'm doing well. I haven't wobbled so far from the beaten track I can't answer simple questions in short course assignments (so the dreaded essays are the only assessed bits left...)
I'm snapping at people. From the "I really think you should stay in this evening" of my mother on Friday night as I sat quivering/crying/shaking with the fireworks outside (I shouted something about "my life now doesn't permit me to get frightened. I don't lead a life where I can be f**king crazy anymore, so shut the f**k up and I shall go to do my work as normal" and then composed myself and spent the next 90 minutes in charge of a group of 20 teenagers) to the "I don't know the answer" of my sister yesterday which I answered, despairingly, "yes, you do. It is using the facts you knew 10 minutes ago for that question, and some very simple common sense. Just think"... both of which were unfair, not called for and downright unlike me.
I spent this afternoon chatting, being sociable and playing wonderful music. It just utterly tires me out. I don't do face-to-face chatting. I'm now criticising myself as I realise she spent 3 hours here and didn't sit down as I didn't suggest she got a chair. 3 hours with a drink apart from water when she started coughing. I realise I'm a crap host, realise I didn't say really positive things about her situation when I could have done as I thought of them 2 hours too late.
Tomorrow, I'm page-turning for an international concert musician. I've got to focus on a pressurised task for maybe 90 minutes of the concert. I've sorted out an outfit - my problem is I wear loose-fitting clothes which drape and you can't page-turn wearing that sort of thing without disrupting the playing (really not an option) or standing oddly to keep it all back from the musician's arms (not really an option either). I need to go and see her during the day as she spends the day familiarising herself with the instrument. Right now, I'm in no fit state to seem like a competent human being.
Next Tuesday, I'm seeing my CPN. I don't want to see her. Now I've got a definite end time of 7 months time, I don't want to waste my breathe on speaking to her and saying empty phrases and platitudes to keep her happy. I'd rather we just stopped having an enforced hour spent together every few weeks/month for the next 7 months. I'm sure she has patients who would benefit from time with her (well, possibly...) but I'm not one of them. The only thing that that results from my appointments that is a positive is a decluttered coffee table.
I'm seeing the GP (see here and here and here for details) at some ridiculous hour of the morning in the middle of the week next week. According to the receptionist, the blood test results were normal, so arthritis has been ruled out. However, just because one possible cause has been ruled out that doesn't mean the pain isn't still an issue. I've got the music for some accompanying I'm doing in December today, the parts are not easy, and I can't afford to have many days where I don't knuckle down and get the parts learnt due to pain preventing piano playing.
Life feels like I'm wading through really thick treacle at the moment. I want it to feel more like a really thin (but yummy) butternut squash soup. However much sleep I have, I'm still tired. However much I eat/don't eat, I'm still not comfortable eating. However much I laugh, I still don't think I'm fully being truthful with the smiles and laughter. However much I want to hide, I don't and continue to feel like hiding. I wish it wasn't such an effort. The melodrama which November brings in its weather and appearance seems to have brought the melodrama back into my life. Of sitting around going "Oh no! Woe is me! The sun rises on the morn, yet still doesn't rise on me. Oh to be Dido, to have a funeral pyre to fling oneself upon in such a forceful way. Oh to be Aeneas seeing the smoke and being helpless to do anything" (y'see, my years of education in Latin weren't completely wasted... [Pliny the Younger's letters was my other strong point. Though I hardly ever went to lessons on the basis I was hiding under a duvet being a bit of an emotional wreck at the time])
An easy life. If only I could buy one in the supermarket, and ditch with this difficult interpretation of the life that goes on around me. Wonder whether it would be next to the salad or the wine or maybe the instant custard (I don't like instant custard but at least the "just add water" instructions are fairly easy to follow). Here endeth tonight's melodrama, now I'm going to properly focus on the Brahms Symphony which is on the television and hopefully that will relieve the pressing feeling on my chest.