Making it in this morning took all the emotional strength I could muster. Limbs wouldn't move, mind remained stuck, emotion was all encompassing. Curious after a few better days. Yet in the face of the rains of autumn and the slate grey sky I almost gave up and retreated into the world of chemically induced sleep. But I didn't.
Somehow, and I don't know how, I made it in and for much of the day I floundered. I have lost all belief, I'm confused, I'm torn in different directions and though someone finally hearing my many fears last week nothing concrete has changed. That terrible fear of burn out lies over me. I had almost forgotten what I do well.
Then something changed. I connected, I talked, I made sense and I made some of those amazing breakthroughs that remind me at least temporarily that if left to do what I do best I am pretty good at what I do. So my fears have abated a little, my anxiety lessened and mood not slumping.
Back at home I have had enough of TV so have returned to my love of opera and reading. I must make a start on The Quiet American which came out of the book cupboard several weeks ago but has sat resolutely unopened on my sofa ever since. The opera is La Finta Giardiniera, I noted listening to it on here some months ago.
My eye has been distracted by flashing lights in the car park behind my flat. Not sure why but there is a fire engine out there but no sign of fire. I do hope nothing untoward has happened.
As for tomorrow I need more energy than today. Otherwise the occasional sense of doom that creeps over me from time to time may amplify just a little. The question is how do I stave it off? I don't know at this precise point. But I'm still standing, still loving Mozart and still can make it through to the end of the week.
I Heard a Voice.
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