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Will I ever learn?

24 November, 2012

Ten days ago I asked life for a deal. I really thought it would take longer to be punched in the stomach. OK I have sort of come round to the fact that having heard nothing from the job I applied for six weeks ago means it probably isn’t going to happen. I should really chase them, but I have tried so hard not to be too positive, not to think about it too much, that I genuinely keep forgetting to call them. But I had a conversation with a friend about it yesterday and it reminded me that it wasn’t going to happen. Fine, it would have been nice and I tried to put it behind me and maybe that’s where I went wrong. I tried to stay positive and maybe that means I was the one that broke the deal.

To cheer myself, I reminded myself that December 15th is in three weeks. I posted back in June of my crippling financial state and how I had six months till I was free. December 15th is my final payment. After Christmas I don’t have to count every penny. Well not as closely anyway. (And if this had coincided with the massive payrise that the job change would award me, well 2013 had the potential to be a dream year when I could get my life back on track, but as I said I’m thinking about that, and I’ve written it off.)  I was doing some paperwork today and decided to look at the forms regarding my payments, to see the date in black and white again, to feel the relief that I am so close. And this is where I really did break my deal with life. The forms say, as they have done since December 2007, that I had 66 payments to make not 60. I am six months out, I have six months more to go.

I am spent, financially, mentally and emotionally. I thought I was so close, have been telling myself all this year as it got harder and harder to keep plodding on, Just till December, just till December. I’ve even allowed myself a few little treats as I knew that I only had to keep going till January, and I could just about afford it. But like an athlete that miscounts the laps and sprint finishes to the line only to be met with the bell and not a medal, I have peaked too soon. I have to keep going when all I want is to lay on the track and recover. The hope, the glimmer of hope I allowed myself, the thought that this will soon be over – all dashed because I am too stupid to read a fucking form properly.

And yes I know this is all self-pitying shit, I have only myself to blame for ALL of this and I need to get a fucking grip and stop whining. But knowing that doesn’t help and it doesn’t get the door open so I can put the black dog outside to bark at me through the window. It’s here, on my shoulder, weighing me down. And I have to keep carrying it.

From → Blogging, My Head

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