The Bad News: Things have definitely gone from bad to worse this week, and the yucky things that have been happening have been exacerbated by my not being able to sleep or eat properly. I think I’ve hit rock bottom. (I hope, cautiously, that this means I can’t fall any further.)
The Good News: I’m flying “home home” on Saturday for a week. Friends have been on at me to get out of town, and I’d resisted as there was nowhere I felt like going and no one a train journey away that I felt like inflicting myself on at the moment in my subdued state. But “home home” is a rather different prospect, and I feel a huge sense relief at having decided to go: no more panic at how to survive the next two weekends at home here, which I strongly suspect would, for various reasons, have been even more difficult than the last ones. I was also really touched that a friend went out of his way to help me get flights.
Depending on what I need at different times, I’ll be able to talk about things or be quiet, have company or space, diversion or focus, rest and time to recuperate, as well as a much-needed opportunity to see family and friends back there.
I really hope to be able to return feeling stronger and with more of a sense of purpose / optimism / self-worth, and less of a sense of loss / anger / hurt. I’m going to do my best to make the very most of it.