Personal Blogs

Yesterday I wasted several hours struggling to let go of my anger.  I spent quite a bit of time beating the boxing punch bag to what would have been a pulp, were it not made of a sturdier material than my fists.  I resent having negative emotions like that hanging over me.  It's not natural.  The arrival of the post only served to make things worse, bringing as it did a letter from another new family member, who I have not seen since being a very young child.  I do not know how they got my address, but it seems to be flying around quite freely at the moment.  The letter is short and to the point, and requests a meeting.  The last additional stress I needed.  I would love to see them, but it's not something I can just go and do without consequence.  I need to plan it, and ensure that I'm not accidentally doing it in secret.  It sent me into meltdown and it soon became apparent that the only thing that would help would be to get up a hill.  So that's what I did.  Three hours later, I felt much better.  Straight up to the Devil's Chimney, where I spent some time freaking myself out and thus forgetting my worries.  You are supposed to leave a coin on it as protection, but this does not make sense to me.  Although I don't believe in the Devil I do greatly fear what 'it' represents.  In terms of religion, I can't believe that any God would approve of anyone 'paying off' his nemesis, and so I refrain from doing so.  This is where I always go when I'm stressed, then up a little higher to the highest point, and across the hill.  Then I look down across the whole sprawling mass of civilisation and realise that there are bigger problems out there, and while there are hills left to climb, I should save my energy for walking.  My surname used to be Hill.  The third of my favoured benches has now tumbled over the edge in yet another bout of erosion.  I'm happy to sit on the grass, but I feel a little sad to think of the people who donated them, in memory of loved ones.  I guess it's really time to say goodbye when your commemorative bench falls off the edge of a cliff.  The imagery is pleasing to me, despite being sad.

When I got home I went for a five mile run after which I finally felt exhausted, and therefore unemotional once more.  What a relief. 

In the evening I received a response to my regrettable e-mail.  A wholly beautiful and overly kind response, filled with words of support, love and realism.  I am lost as to how to reply.  I was more than relieved to get a positive response, but on reflection I feel guilty, like I have committed a betrayal, and that I have somehow sought love that I do not deserve.  It was exactly that type of behaviour that I was fighting against.  I am fed up of the other party having imaginary crises, and getting undeserved sympathy, particularly from strangers, but equally from the new family.  Fantasy world does not begin to describe the extent of fabrication that is currently taking place.  I do my best to ignore it.  But it slipped out with all that has gone on.  Now that I have divulged an albeit very small part of the problem, I am being praised rather than being punished for betraying a trust - I'm sure the person concerned would not be filled with joy to read the e-mail I sent.  It makes me uncomfortable, and my instinct is to reply and tell them they shouldn't be so nice, but I know that would only serve to hurt them.  They give out their love and support with the most magical sincerity that I have ever known.  I consider myself a very genuine person, and often too honest, and certainly willing to see my faults before others; but the decency of these people surpasses me in a way that awes me somewhat. 

In terms of study, I am aware that my neglect has now reached a level of such excess, that it hardly seems worth the effort of trying to escape the complete laxity that has evolved.  To compare to human neglect, I would be looking at a long prison sentence right now.  It is worth it though.  It would be a waste of life, time and money to cave in now.  Plus it would mean that I had succumbed to the pressures of family, and that would represent a ten-year personal standstill, where I had learnt no life lessons, and could demonstrate no improvement in coping mechanisms.  Those representations just aren't accurate.  I have come so far.  I have progressed from channelling my anger into destroying my environment, to trying to seek positive solutions.  Completion of this course has now taken on a deeper meaning in my mind.  It means that I am no longer controlled in the all-encompassing way that I once was.  It means, that although I find it indescribably difficult not to run to the aid of a person in a 'crisis' even though generated from a negative imagination, I can stop myself.  I can prioritise.  Being the person that I am, I do not doubt that I will continue to get roped into the madness that is currently so free-flowing, and the next few months are going to get progressively more difficult.  But whereas my response time and time again has been to throw in the towel - purely because I don't want to give people I dislike the satisfaction of being able to tell others of my accomplishment - this time, whatever anyone says, this is for me, not for them.  I'm trying to feel as though I own my own success.  I'm getting there.  There are people out there who can take it away with a single sentence, and take all the credit for themselves.  I have had all my achievements taken away from me over the years, and now that I am nearing the end of the degree, I don't want to let go.  At the moment I own it.  And there it is; written self-analysis.  I have established the real cause of my complete indifference, and subsequent subconscious attempt at semi-failure.  I'll have to work on that.  Maybe I'll start by reopening the text book today.  I'll never catch up, but at least I can complete it.

Of course it could just be laziness!