Thursday, 29 July 2010

I Went A Bit Doo-Lally

I've been up in Wales with the three boys. We were confined to the sheep-shit surrounded house by interminable drizzle, rain, downpours, rain, mist, rain, and rain. I'm ashamed to say I started to lose it somewhat by day three.

However, like all sensible people, I had a plan, and that was to shepherd the boys into the house, and lock the door, and pocket the key so that they were at least safe from drowning, wandering off up mountains in the fog, the yeti, etc. Indoors they could only burn themselves, fall out of windows/downstairs, etc, etc. But once confined, it became hard to leave.

It is hard to explain where mind-explosions come from. I've given up anticipating them. And they can come on so quickly.

I suppose sleep hasn't been that good over the last week. I was getting about four hours-ish last week in Bristol, and then in Wales it went down to about two hours. I didn't feel tired though, and thought little of it.

I suppose also I have been living through a middling amount of stress the last few months years.

Day one I felt extremely angry with K and all the shit that has developed. Didn't sleep. Bathed in torrential stream at dawn while boys slumbered in bed. (I locked them in).

Day two I was seized by an embarrassing fit of the lusts, which was most distracting. Was still ferociously angry. Walked to local village with boys. Anger turning into hate - not an emotion I generally do. Felt urge to mortify the flesh. Was feeling very odd.

Day three I decided it was to be a day of indulgence. Let the boys roam the house like naked filthy monkeys. Lay in bed writing filth and singing the Ode to Joy at the top of my voice. Later something went wrong with my head. Hard to describe, but a sort of hell. Lost track of time. Somehow wrested my brain back into some sort of gear by hammering large nappy pins through my nipples and bathed in the icy stream. Locked us all in the house. Wanted to be subjected to all manner of torments. Had a very disturbing moment regarding my foot in the night - it wasn't mine - it was the same width as it was long - square - most uncanny, and not a little frightening for a while.

Day four I floundered, frightened, unable to do the simplest thing - I wanted to get the hell out of there with the boys but couldn't even work out how to start washing-up and cleaning the house. Couldn't leave the damn door. I lay in bed, in a funk and a state of self-horror. Eventually I forced myself to wash up (took over two hours), sweep up, pack, empty the shitter, etc, and frogmarch the boys back to the car. Then I drove for four and a half hours down to Devon, where I currently am, and feeling much better*.

So a bizarre few days. I found it irksome, worrisome and extremely aggravating that this came on while I was looking after the boys. But that said, that place, and those conditions, anyone would have had a funny turn.

However, through a measure of sense, planning, and luck, and wonderfully patient support by text and phone from TOMGB, I somehow got through it. Now a few days in Devon to recuperate, then I'm off for some much-needed grown-up company, whither I do not know, nor could dare say.

* My nipples are still smarting, though.


TOMGB said...

'Grown-up'! - since when?

tweednut said...

Did I say grown-up? My god, I told you I was a bit odd of late. That was a slip. Perhaps I was referring to the ancient diabolic angel that I've spied inhabiting your cranium when I wear my x-ray specs.