saturday 17 october 2009

Page Fifty-two

Greenfield...

All is status quo. I go to Turners to haunt what was my own life. I wait on a waiting list for a tiny apartment in a small institutional building in Turners, which I will hate. I've never lived that way. There will be no animals. I'll continue murdering minutes away as I've done for the past nineteen months, but I don't live. Not in any meaningful sense of the word. I exist. Matthew is still here, and we are still estranged, which we will remain. I have the one human friend, D.

My daughter's father has killed himself, and I grumble in a dark envy that this long-absent person was able to do what I haven't been able to do: to end the misery. I'm much smarter than he was, and educated, and much more sensitive than he was. Why could he do this simple and final ending of misery, and I can't.

Not Human
website

wednesday 7 october 2009

Page Fifty-0ne

Greenfield


Nobody Nowhere. The title of a book I've recently read. But also the title of my existence since 12 March 08, when my whole life and everyone I love were taken away. Nobody nowhere has been me for the last 18 months. In many ways, Nobody Nowhere has been me my whole life. Me vis-a-vis other people: nobody much. I take the anti-depressant, I take the anti-anxiety, but these don't give me back my life and my loves. These don't turn me into somebody again. They don't make the enormous grief just magically go away. Nor would I want pills to do that. I'm not a believer in stuffing emotions down, or pretending they're not there to begin with.

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