Saying Goodbyes

I’ve said goodbye to the world more times than I care to count.

Sometimes it’s late at night as I lie awake looking at the ceiling.

Sometimes it’s in the daytime, as I look off the edge of a bridge and wonder what it would be like to jump off.

Sometimes it’s on the edge of a cliff as I look down and feel that strange dizzy sensation.

Sometimes it’s when I see something I don’t want to see.

But I’ve never come so close to meaning it as I did the other night.

I was saved, this time.

But am I worth it?

Back again.

My Internet connection has been down all weekend. It does this sometimes. I could have written a post on my phone, of course, but it’s such a faff to do that and takes five times longer than it needs to.

It’s Mum’s funeral tomorrow. I’m not looking forward to it. I mean, I want to go and pay my respects, but I’m not really one for letting my emotions out in public. I’m worried I won’t look like I “care” enough, you know? It’s difficult to show sometimes, though. I mean, I feel things. Sometimes it just feels strange or difficult to let them show. Embarrassing, kind of. Ironic, really, considering I’m writing this and baring my soul for all and sundry to see, but it’s a different matter sitting down in front of a computer and writing to saying things to the faces of people you maybe don’t know that well.

The images still haunt me when I’m alone. But I can keep them under control, for now at least. I’m trying to keep myself as busy as possible in the daytimes so that I don’t end up lapsing into a deep depression or worse, dropping into an alcoholic stupor again. There won’t always be someone around to pick me up off the floor.

But enough depressing talk (for now at least – there will be plenty of it tomorrow, I’m sure.)

Yesterday I saw Charlie. I haven’t seen her for a little while so I was a bit nervous. But she made me feel at ease very quickly. We went and had a meal out at Bella Italia where we both stuffed ourselves with pasta and shared one of those awesome “Godfather” desserts, then we went back to her place and sat and talked for a few hours. It was nice, and relaxing, and I felt happy and safe there. It was a nice feeling. When it was time to go, I didn’t really want to leave as my place feels quiet and empty with Mark being out of the way all the time. I wonder why he still pays rent sometimes, since he’s pretty much using the place as a cupboard rather than a “home”.

But anyway. We had a really nice time together. I definitely like her. I think she likes me too, though my own insecurities constantly keep me worrying that she’ll run off with someone better than me at a moment’s notice. I know that’s irrational and unreasonable, but, well, I’ve been burned in the past. I need to think more highly of myself. I am intelligent, articulate, not terrible-looking (apparently, though I hate the way I look) and I can write. And I can type quickly. Is that all though? What would Charlie say her own good qualities are? I’d say she’s kind, sweet, bright, cheerful, uplifting, comforting… lots of words. Funny how it’s so easy to compliment someone else and not yourself.

That’s that. I’m at work at the moment, wasting a bit of time before lunch at 2. It’s a late lunch, and my stomach is growling. Apparently they need a few people to cover the middle of the day business though, including answering phones. I hate answering phones. I’ve managed to successfully let other people answer them until now, but a lot of the “regulars” are going for lunch. I don’t have a clue what this company do, so how am I expected to hold a conversation with someone on the phone? Maybe I’ll just ignore them. No-one will notice…

Curses.

My last post got swallowed by the ether. I’m pretty certain I said something incredibly profound, too, but I guess now we’ll never know. Apologies if you were on tenterhooks all day waiting for some kind of revelation. But yesterday’s post really is empty.

I do remember sort of what I said. It was something like this.

Mark came back after his long absence. I had no idea he’d actually been away – like away away. He’d gone to some sort of festival with some friends and then they’d stayed on at someone’s house that was near the grounds to “party” some more. (That’s his use of “party” as a verb, not mine.) He showed me some photos. I was very glad I wasn’t there. They were the typical “drunk” photos you get all over Facebook on a regular basis – you know the ones, tongues out, sweat glistening on brows – the only difference is, they were outdoors with tents in the background instead of indoors with vomit-stained walls in the background. I wasn’t invited and I clearly wouldn’t have fitted in. Which is fine by me.

I sat down and talked to Mark about what had happened. (I didn’t mention the whole “passing out from drinking too much” thing.) He gave me his commiserations and offered to take me out on the town. I politely declined, but thanked him for the offer. I couldn’t face drinking anything even slightly alcoholic right now. Just the thought of the taste made me nauseous. If you put a box of liqueur chocolates in front of me, I’d have probably thrown up. So I figured it was best not to try.

Perhaps this is a turning point. I think I might have a problem with drinking sometimes, but then the rational side of my brain kicks in and says “you’re thinking about it, therefore it can’t be a problem”. I don’t know if that really is the case – maybe that’s just the sort of justification an alcoholic would use – but I certainly haven’t drunk anything since that unpleasant incident the other day.

The thing is, the drink often helped, especially at night. Night-times, especially when I’ve spent the whole day by myself, are the most difficult times. I’ll often lie awake at night worrying about… well, nothing at all really. But I’ll see things – or more specifically, remember things. And I’ll remember them in such a way that I have a choice in the memory – a choice to let things happen as they happened before, leaving me where I am now, or choosing to do something completely different. Maybe instead of ignoring the guy who insulted me in the street that one time, I’d choose to yell at him and intimidate him. Maybe things would have gone differently. (Badly, probably. I’ve never been in a fight. At least, not since primary school.) But these images, memories, choices keep swirling around my head one after another as I lie on my bed staring at the ceiling unable to sleep.

Eventually, of course, I do drift off due to sheer exhaustion, but it’s never as soon as I get into bed.

What was I saying? The drink helped? Yes, maybe I do have a problem. Oh well.

I’m seeing Charlie tomorrow. I’ve spoken to her a few times since the other night but I haven’t seen her. I feel a bit embarrassed about it, but she seems to be fine with it. I hope she’s not too annoyed with me – but then, she’s agreed to come out with me tomorrow night. We’re going to Bella Italia. I didn’t fancy going anywhere “drinky” and my mind suddenly went completely blank as to what restaurants there were in Southampton. Still, she seemed to like the idea. I hope we can sit and have a nice chat and that the other night doesn’t get in the way of everything.

Time will tell, I guess.

It’s Derren Brown again tonight. I’m intrigued but skeptical as always. He claims that he’s going to stick us all to our seats. I’ll believe it when I see it. Or when I can’t get up.

Normality?

Back to Work

I went back to work today. The office manager actually welcomed me back and said she hoped I was feeling better. There’s a first. I didn’t tell her why I was off.

It was actually a bit of a comfort to get out of the house again after sitting at home staring into space. I still feel utterly miserable, but my brain seems to have put things a little more into perspective, finally.

The day at work was dull as ever but at least it was doing something. It kept my mind and body “active” (for want of a better word) and put me in an environment where I was less likely to self-destruct – more for reasons of self-consciousness than anything, but still.

I called Charlie when I got home and apologised to her again for being an idiot. She told me not to worry, and said that her flatmate was taking her out later. She didn’t invite me, but I didn’t feel like going anyway – besides, it sounded like it was going to be a “girly” night. She probably wanted to talk about what happened with me. I hope she’s not too pissed off with me.

Dad called with the funeral arrangements today. It’s on Tuesday next week, followed by a wake at the family home. I don’t know what to expect. I’ve never been to a funeral before. When you’re young, you never imagine having to deal with the death of a parent while you’re so emotionally immature. I’m still not convinced I’m entirely capable of dealing with it now. The other night certainly called that into question.

One thing is certain though. I think I need to pull myself together and sort myself out. I shouldn’t hide at the bottom of a bottle every time things go wrong. Look at the trouble it caused this time.

Sorry

I’m sorry.

I’ve been an idiot.

I’m not sure who I’m directing this at, but I’m going to say it anyway.

I’ve been an idiot. I’ve dealt with my problems badly and left someone else to pick up the pieces. She did a wonderful job. She could have just left me there, to die maybe, and she didn’t. She stayed by my side. She is a good person.

Too good for me. I am a bad person. Mum would be ashamed that I honoured her remembrance by suffering alcohol poisoning. I’m ashamed. But it was all there was that felt like it was taking the pain away. It’s worked before.

It’s like a friend. A comfortable, familiar sensation. The darkness creeping in around me, the elixir keeping it at bay. I’m still alone, but not afraid. Sometimes the darkness takes me, at least until the morning. Other times I can laugh in its face and send it far away.

But now? It won’t go away. I’m afraid. And I don’t know what to do. I feel guilty about dragging Charlie into this. She is a good person. I don’t deserve her.

I haven’t spoken to her today. I wanted to let her have some space. Unfortunately this has left me alone with my thoughts. My thoughts are not pleasant companions right now, but I have always relied on no-one but myself in the past, so I should continue to do so.

I’ve spent the last couple of days just sitting, barely doing anything. Tomorrow I will try to go back to work. I can’t afford any more time not working. And maybe it will take my mind away from it all.

Funeral is next week.

Awful news

Sorry I didn’t write yesterday. I wasn’t really in a state to. Had some terrible news, which I’ll get to in a moment. Let me try and be a little positive first before I launch into it. I need a “run up”.

I spent most of the day with Charlie. We met up for lunch, then we went back to her house to chill out and talk, watch some DVDs and just hang out. It was really nice. We got on really well and Charlie seemed to like being “close” to me. I wasn’t complaining… it was a nice feeling to have someone resting up against me. (I hate using the word “snuggle”… but I guess that’s what it was).

I had a momentary attack of anxiety wondering whether or not I was supposed to… “make a move”, as it were. I don’t know how long is appropriate to wait in these sorts of situations. Our coming together has hardly been the most conventional thing, but I’m constantly paranoid I’m going to break one of those “unwritten rules” and do something stupid to mess everything up. Sometimes I can ignore it. Other times I find questions with no answers racing around inside my head.

I decided to play it safe and not try anything. Charlie didn’t either. After a while, the feeling of “pressure” left me and I could just enjoy myself and relax.

That is, until I got a message from my little brother David, who still lives back home.

“Daniel, there’s been an accident. Mum is dead. Call us,” it said.

I had to leave. I couldn’t break down in front of Charlie, not after we’d had such a nice day. I didn’t feel quite ready to do that yet, though I do feel pretty comfortable in her presence. I made some excuses and went quickly, walking home. It was cold outside, and a slight breeze was blowing. I pressed the button to call my brother back.

“Hello?” his voice said, cracking audibly.

“Hello,” I said. “It’s Dan.”

“Oh,” he said. “Hello Dan. How are you?” He sounded like he was in a daze.

“I don’t think that’s important,” I said. “What’s happened?”

“Let me… Let me put Dad on,” he said.

“Hello?” said my Dad.

“Hi, Dad,” I said. “What happened?”

“Some stupid fuck on the road,” he said, venom in his voice. “Tried to overtake her, didn’t see a car coming the other way till too late, swerved into her and threw her into a ditch.”

Horrific images flashed through my head. I knew that at least one of them would be accurate, and it’s not something I wanted to see. Not my Mum. No-one ever wants to see their parents like that, covered in blood, in pain, in agony, dying…

I swallowed. I didn’t know what to say.

“I know,” my Dad said. “I’m sorry.”

“So am I,” I croaked. “When…”

“Earlier tonight,” he said. “The hospital phoned. We went there straight away, but it was…”

His voice broke off. I knew what he was going to say. They got there too late. Tears started to flow from my eyes as I held the phone to my ear and walked along the quiet streets.

“Dad, I’m sorry.”

“So am I, Dan,” he said, his voice sounding like he was making a huge effort to hold things together. “I’m so sorry.”

A feeling of emptiness started in the pit of my stomach and felt like it was going to swallow me up. My mother had been one of the few constants in my life. Always there. One of the few people I trusted. Now she was gone, forever. And none of us had had the chance to say goodbye.

Why? Why did this have to happen? Just as things were starting to look up for me, life throws me a pile of shit again, as usual. This time it hit my family too.

I took to the bottle again last night. Sometimes it feels like the only way to deal with things. It’s not good, I know. But I raised a glass in Mum’s honour and passed out on my bed in tears later in the evening.

I haven’t told Charlie yet. I don’t know how to tell her. I don’t want to scare her off.

Wow

Felt rough this morning. Not surprising really, I guess. Struggled through work, had to disappear into the toilets a few times to throw up but I was feeling a bit better by lunchtime, just incredibly tired. Got home and decided to sleep for a bit because I wanted to watch the Derren Brown thing tonight. I’m skeptical about his abilities, but he’s a good showman so whether or not he’s lying to everyone is pretty irrelevant!

Didn’t hear from Charlie until a few minutes ago today. She was out at work all day today again, and sounds like she’s really bored by it now. It is exactly the same thing day after day so I’m not surprised. In retrospect, I’m not sorry I had to leave there… apart from not being able to see her in the daytime. Still.

Anyway, she phoned me to talk about the Derren Brown thing after it finished. We’ve both got our own theories on it. I’m pretty sure it was a technical trick and tonight’s show was simply a means of him diverting attention away from that. Charlie sounded pretty convinced by the whole “wisdom of crowds” thing though. The theory has its merits, I’m sure, but surely 24 people isn’t enough to achieve something like that? I don’t know. He makes my head hurt!

We’re going to meet up and hang out tomorrow. Looking forward to it!

Dark night

No, not like Batman. Like it’s dark. Because it’s night.

Sorry. I have been drinking a bit. A lot, actually. Been feeling a bit weird all day.

Woke up feeling good. Sent Charlie a message to say good morning, hello, how are you and all that. She sounded a bit tired last night when I finally spoke to her. She phoned me back in the end. We had a little chat and said good night. Good night!

Didn’t hear from her all day. Went to work. Boring. Nothing to talk about. Again, no-one talking to me. What’s wrong with me? Am I inherently unlikeable? I hope that’s not true. But if I am, Charlie wouldn’t have kissed me, would she? But she didn’t message me back all day, so maybe she was having second thoughts. Got home, mentally tired, bored, bit depressed, started drinking. No sign of Mark. No-one else to do anything with. Except my old friend the bottle of cheap vodka. Shouldn’t do it but I did.

Sorry, thinking out loud. On paper. On line. Whatever this is. Fuck.

Fuck. That’s a funny word. Means so many things. Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. The more I type it the more stupid it looks.

I hope Charlie is all right.

Wow, is she watching me? She just sent me a message. I better respond quick. Bye bye. Goodnight. I am drunk, so I may not be back.

Here I am

Yes, here we are. Think I’ve calmed down a bit from last night now. So here’s what happened:

We went to go see District 9. I was surprised that Charlie suggested it but she seemed to dig it. I certainly wanted to see it too, so we decided that we may as well see something that was (hopefully) actually good rather than a typical “date” movie. What is a typical date movie anyway? I still have visions of high school movie dates, sitting in the back row snogging. Do people still do that? I can’t remember seeing anyone doing that recently. Or ever. But I digress.

The movie was great. We both enjoyed it and had plenty to say about it when we came out. I wasn’t sure what the situation was, so I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to put my arm around her or anything. I tried to concentrate on the movie and just see what happened. Turns out I was supposed to hold her hand. So I did. She held it pretty tight during the intense bits. It hurt a bit, if I’m perfectly honest, but she didn’t draw blood or anything.

We walked down the waterfront after the film. It was nice and mild out, and it was reasonably quiet down by the marina. We walked and talked for a while, then it all stopped. I figured this was make or break time. This is also the bit I’m not good at. I’m not good at reading “the signs”. But she’d been holding my hand and now she was looking at me with such a sweet smile. Was I supposed to…?

Instinct took over, and I kissed her, just a light kiss, but it felt good. It felt really good, in fact. She seemed to think so too. I was pleased.

There were more kisses, especially when we finally said goodnight at the bus stop. I didn’t know if I was supposed to do anything else, but the whole evening had been so nice I didn’t feel the need to try anything, not that I’d have the nerve to do it anyway. If it’s supposed to happen, it’s supposed to happen.

I went home alone feeling like I was walking on air. Cliche, I know, but I felt pleasantly detached from reality. I fell asleep almost straight away when I got in, then woke up refreshed today. It was a nice change.

Oh, forgot to mention, had interview with new agency yesterday at which I impressed them with my typing speed as usual. They got me straight out into another boring company today – some sort of solicitors’ office this time, I think. Another one of those companies I can’t really tell what they do. It’s actually in Southampton this time, so no more early-morning train catching. It’s a shame I don’t get to spend my days with Charlie, but that’ll make the time we do get together that much nicer, right?

Going to phone her now. Yes! I am actually voluntarily going to use the phone.