It's not always about the hormones
01.12.05, 12:42 pm
So, as predicted I had my breakdown last night, although thankfully it was in my room on my own and I didn't wind up shouting at anyone. It came about after I glanced across the room and saw the toy orange kitten that the housekids had bought me for 19th birthday sitting on my radiator, and I suddenly had the thought of, "God, why do so many things in my life die?" My brain absolutely loved that, because it got to dump lots of past shit onto the passing Miserable Train: "Hey, Holly! Remember that your mum died too. From cancer! Oh, and don't forget that Bernie died also, and you had to say goodbye to her whilst she was lying in a brain-dead coma!"
I'm being flippant; I figured that you'd all work that out. Oh, and you all rock too, thankyou for the notes. Anyway, all these tears decided to turn up. Want to know how long I cried for? About 90 seconds. What is the deal with that?! I noticed one of my photographs had fallen down on my desk, and by the time I'd straightened it back up again I'd lost my momentum. Completely ridiculous.
Dear God/Buddha/Allah/Vishnu/Whatever,
I was just wondering why it is I have the stupidest methods ever of dealing with things? You know, I only manage to cry about three times a year, so the least you could do is let me make the most of it. A minute and a half is pathetic, really. I don't think it's too much to ask.
Yours faithfully,
Holly
The housekids are, as usual, at a loss as to how to deal with me when I'm not being as overly lively as usual, or how to find out how I actually feel. It's probably my fault. Mel tried a fantastically tactful "Becky tells me you're maybe hormonal?" last night. I felt like shouting, "I'M SAD TOO THOUGH, YOU KNOW? THERE IS A REASON FOR THIS CRAP MOOD. NOT EVERYTHING IS THE RESULT OF BASTARDING HORMONES. HORMONES DO NOT CAUSE ALL OF MY SODDING PROBLEMS!" Seriously, this house seems to reckon that every bad mood is the result of hormones. GAH.
Sorry, it's probably my fault that they don't know what to do. And the housekids are lovely and do mean well. Michelle is possibly the cutest: on the evening that Mel got the news about her sister, she got home from work, came up to my room, gave her a huge hug without saying anything, and then said with a woeful expression, "I bought you some chocolate because you sounded really miserable on the phone, but then I had to eat some of it because I got so hungry." I think I'm going to have to avoid people for the meantime, just until my mood gets a little more stable.
Wow, isn't this entry stroppy today! I lied to Amy and told her that I couldn't make the lecture this morning because I hadn't finished my website, and instead went to the gym. It's made me feel a little less stressed. I should probably work for the rest of the afternoon, although I have to go into uni to hand in my printout. BORING.
Off to Nottingham tomorrow to see the grandmother. It'll be nice to get out of Sheffield for a while, even if it does mean sleeping on that goddamn bed.
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