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Somewhere you slipped out of phase with Time. It's always been a… 
14th-Mar-2009 07:06 pm
Somewhere you slipped out of phase with Time.

It's always been a risk.
You've always known it's hard;
You've had to work so hard to keep yourself steady,
Going through time moment by moment like everyone else.
(And how you resent them, the people who make it look easy
Whose minutes are the same length,
And who always know how long they've been waiting
And don't need the hour when they ask the time.)

But you were doing so well

And then you fell out of time, and it won't slow down long enough for you to get back on.

You have a thing to do.
The most important thing in your life, and you should be able to do it.
All you need to do is do it.
So you open the page and you get ready to write.

And you stare
and you stare
at the page and realise you can't.

You can't and you can't and you can't and you can't.

You knew what you were going to say,
Had a plan
A to do list.
Everything planned out week by day by getitdoneontime.

And the first step isn't coming. It's not there.

Which is...
...it's fine, for a day
Everyone, they say, has off days. You're allowed to have a bad day.
Don't panic, relax. You'll get it done.

Only that was five minutes ago and
Now it's six hours later and time to go home.
That was yesterday and
Before you've come to terms with the loss of yesterday it was last week and

You blink and you've missed it and
Suddenly you realise its been two weeks since you heard from your sick friend
A month since she was taken ill and
You don't know if she's still how sick she is
Or if you still have a friend
(You were told not to ask)

And your minutes drag like hours
Hours race by out of your control and
You've lost contact can't keep up with your friends
Need for the contact,
Need some way back into time but
Forgot lost track too late nearly missed it
Can't hear can't listen can't pay attention can't
Can't cope can't be with crowds can't concentrate shutupshutupshutupI'mgoinghome

And you need them but you can't give them the attention they deserve and
They've gone, own problems, own lives and
You're still sitting staring at the screen
Trying to get your brain to write that thing you told yourself promised yourself you'd write yestertwoweeks ago.

Not drowning, you're not drowning.
Because you're not struggling. You're just
Swallowing a lot of water
Floating not swimming and
You won't drown if you swim but
You can't swim
You know how to swim, took the lessons
Promised everyone you would swim but
You're sending the messages to your limbs and
You've stopped swimming and it's already too late to start.

It's so terribly simple.
All you have to do is to do it. To buckle down and do it but
Can't won't doesn't mind won't stay still and
and and and you had an hour to spare five minutes ago and now you're fiteen minutes late and
Can't find the meeting place. should have checked the meeting place can't remember the name thought it was on this road why won't anyone help
You've been running because late and breath short and don't panic can't find it
And you're late and it's tearing your chest apart and why can you never do anything late and
You're this close to packing it all in and going home and packing that in and going really home and what happens when you run out of things to pack in?
And then...

...then you're sorry you're late and they've saved a chair and

You're good.
It's OK, and it's new, and it's interesting
You learn
You help others to learn.
It's fun and it's right and you don't have to worry about the time
You don't bulldoze over others' conversation and you don't have to fight to be heard.
Everything's okay, now.
It turned out, you realise with a smile, that all you needed was one good day.
For a day, everything's going to be alright

And then you get the message.
"I just checked Facebook, and I'm sorry to hear about your dog."

And the dam bursts and
Everything pours out and over and you're washed away on
Everything you thought you were dealing with
And you can't stop can't stop and
It hurts, god it hurts can't breathe can't think can't anything
Seconds become hours become miutes become

God, you need a hug need touch, need something but
The nearest person who hugs is a country away and
You can't sleep can't wake can't
Late again stressed again can't handle it can't
Cope with it can't anything and
You're screaming, screaming, screaming so loud it's making your head explode and
Why is no one coming why are you alone where is the help you need and then you remember
All the screaming is in your head because
You can't remember how to use your throat and
You don't want to bother anyone and
You're not sure if they care and
You can't risk it and
It's all your fault because
All you had to do was
Get on with it and

You didn't couldn't wouldn't can't and

You realise, along the way, you fell
And landed in a pit of bad poetry and

A grown up would get over it.
14th-Mar-2009 07:15 pm (UTC)

Fuck me, Debi. I can't even tell you how much I identify with this (and I can't even tell you how much I wish I was there to be your hug.)
14th-Mar-2009 07:21 pm (UTC)
I love you Nny. And I want your hugs.
14th-Mar-2009 07:28 pm (UTC)
The stuff about the writing, I can totally relate to, I had the same thing with my final year dissertation, the knowing I should do it, trying to write, talking with people about it, thinking i knew what to do, then no words coming out, I handed it in four months late in the end.

whatever happens you will pull through. *hug*
14th-Mar-2009 07:30 pm (UTC)
Oh, honey.

*hugs you so much*

I have no idea what makes time be like that (if I did I would never have the same problem) and I don't have anything to say, but that was so evocative and I would so be huging you a lot if I was geographically closer. *hugs more*
14th-Mar-2009 07:31 pm (UTC)


*huges you hard, baybee*
14th-Mar-2009 07:38 pm (UTC)
Hey, shuddup, it's not my fault I can't type. :P

... okay, it totally is, heh. *huges you back*
14th-Mar-2009 08:03 pm (UTC)
Hey, 'grown ups' are only one step away from 'boring old folk'. You can deal with stuff in your own way, in your own time. It's okay.
14th-Mar-2009 08:08 pm (UTC)
Dear Brat~ I am in awe of this profound "map" of your grief! Really sorry to hear about your doggie, and I understand how hard it was for you. Please hang in there. Tough as it may be to believe right now, there WILL come a healing...love, Justine

14th-Mar-2009 10:28 pm (UTC)
Thank you, Justine.
14th-Mar-2009 09:58 pm (UTC)
14th-Mar-2009 10:08 pm (UTC)
Oh, Debi. I wish I could be there to hug you! because... this rings uncomfortably true, and it's horrible how true it is. <3
14th-Mar-2009 10:14 pm (UTC)
Insofar as you're talking about dissertation writing, I get it. I think we've all been there, or are there, or will be there. Right now I'm writing... but God knows I've been stuck in that hole for months on end. Hugs.
14th-Mar-2009 10:35 pm (UTC)
I used to write things like this all the time, constantly. It kind of makes you feel better and at the same time, it kind of makes it all worse to sit back and look at your written feelings.

I'm sorry if I haven't been there for you as much as I used to be, I'm sorry things are going this way for you, and I'm sorry that I moved to another country and I'm still unable to give you all the hugs and support that you deserve.

But we can try it the XKCD way. *hugs*

15th-Mar-2009 12:01 am (UTC)
It's amazing how many people fake not panicking. It's amazing how many people fake not being stressed - or even don't believe they are stressed at all. It's like... Like they've got it into their heads that no, stress and panic and fear and worry, they all happen to Other People. So obviously, those things they're feeling, they're not really real. Because they're not Other People. Because they are, importantly, Grown Up.

Grown ups generally fake it the best.

Grown ups sniff, and smile, and say "Oh, well, it's just another bad day. I'll have a takeaway/smoke/drink/whatever". Or they say "Goodness, that dog was so old, it's a blessing really".

Grown ups forget that every dog is, at heart, a puppy that loves you. I still love the dogs I grew up with, and I still miss them.

So... I started writing with a point of some sort. Oh, yeah...

Sorry to hear that you're separated from those you love. For me, it helps when I just take a moment to remember that they love (or loved) me too. It doesn't 'make everything right', but it... It nudges the world an inch towards 'right'.
15th-Mar-2009 08:52 am (UTC)
"It's amazing how many people fake not panicking. It's amazing how many people fake not being stressed - or even don't believe they are stressed at all."

This. So This.

I'm really sorry you're having a bad time at the moment. *sends hugs*
15th-Mar-2009 12:13 am (UTC)
I hope you're sleeping sweetly now, and I plan to talk to you at some point tomorrow, but I felt as if I needed to leave a comment, something for you to wake up to, anyway.

I know what much of that feels like, at least in the general sense (details, as always, differ), and it hurts that I can't do much more than offer text in support. I'd so much rather be able to hug you and sit down over tea and talk and make you laugh.

I know I offer often, but... if there's anything I can do for you, well, you know where I am.

Huge hugs,
15th-Mar-2009 01:46 am (UTC)
oh Debs. I love you so big. *clings, from the world away*

It'll go away soon. I'll make it.
15th-Mar-2009 10:12 am (UTC)
That was...wow. And you're not alone.
(Deleted comment)
16th-Mar-2009 04:34 am (UTC)
Oh, honey. *sends distant hugs, wishing for a teleporter*

Love you.
16th-Mar-2009 01:28 pm (UTC)
Just want to add my voice to the chorus of people who've been where you are (I was, and it stalled out my academic career long before I got to worry about any theses I wasn't writing), people who know what you mean even when there are no words but who still find yours here powerful and meaningful -- again, I am one of them.

And most of all, people who love you. People who will do all they can to support you, to give you what strength we can by our presence and our empathy. I am one of those people too.
16th-Mar-2009 03:39 pm (UTC)
A grown up would get over it.

As a legal assistant and the daughter of a therapist, I can tell you that this is a big fat lie.

*internet hugs*
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