This tiredness malarkey is hard to beat. I have slept a lot over the weekend, but I am still exhausted.
I am not certain but I think it is the weight of this burden on my heart of all that happened between me and my ex-flatmate. It’s daft, but it is exhausting to relive all those words and looks and thoughts and feelings.
But, I am glad to have found a medium to express these buried memories and emotions, because talking out loud has not been the way to communicate these for me. For starters, no one is patient enough to let me work through it. Everyone butts in and asks questions that I cannot answer. But writing about it all…at least it is all coming out and I am not on my own with these painful memories and emotions (that frankly are not anyone else’s burden, but my own).
For over three years I have been trying to work out what happened and what went wrong and I have narrowed it down to the week I have been relating to you, the week after that cup of tea with my flatmate. That was key to what happened afterwards. The following months were agony. Neither of us were brave enough to sit down and talk again, so the situation became unbearable because we did not communicate, we just hurt each other it seemed.
Then one summer evening after my birthday, I went to a London park on my own, because I did not want to see my ex-flatmate. It was around 10pm, but it was light when I arrived and there were lots of people around. I sat on a bench and let myself weep. After a while, a man sat next to me on the bench, and made a few friendly comments. I became aware of how dark it was and how there was no one else around.
I stood up and said I had better be getting back home. Seconds later, I was on my knees after huge strength pushed me down by the shoulder and I remember with a shudder the words, “You’re not going anywhere.” I am never going to write a post about what happened between that moment and waking up the next morning in an ambulance – it is not going to happen. It is something I do not need to relive or write about.
But as I have said before, I am still tormented by everything that happened between my flatmate and I that caused me to go to the park on my own, feeling I could not bear to see him, and deeply grieved that my ex-flatmate still has found no words to communicate to me after that night.
It is a big grey cloud that hangs over me and sometimes blocks out the sunshine. Even worse, it has perhaps led me to sabotage my wonderful relationship with my gorgeous Goldfinch who gave me his frank opinion of my ex-flatmate last weekend.
This is what happens with emotional tiredness…you do stupid things that you later regret. My sister Milly called last night and we chatted. That made me feel a lot better. Thank goodness for family.
But still, not communicating only causes pain. I have tried to communicate with my ex-flatmate a handful of times over the last three years, but have not received a word back from him. Everyone involved says he wants to talk, but is still in shock about what happened to me and does not know what to say. But I no longer care what he says – the silence is unbearable.
And now, waiting to hear from Goldfinch is unbearable.
Look…all I can do right now is carry on cooking and freezing meals, clean my kitchen and go to bed. I don’t have the emotional energy to jump on a train and go and stand in front of either my ex-flatmate or Goldfinch. I am way way too tired. I just want to curl up in a little ball and pretend none of this ever happened.
I want my life back, my career back and I want to be back in my room in my flat with Ella and Dean, and any flatmates who are willing to empty bins and not be hostile on a daily basis.