Counselling last night was really good. I was expecting to go in and have nothing to talk about, because I’ve been feeling really well this week, unexpectedly, but as it turned out I had loads to talk about. We went back over childhood and I explained how people always expected me to grow up, be a man and stand up for myself, even though no one ever told me how to do any of those things. I realised that I still have this problem at work where I can’t approach the scary people and speak out, ask for help because I didn’t learn how to do it at school. When I was a teenager instead of learning that I had a valid voice and that I was worthy of people’s attention, I learnt that I was thick, gay and pretty much worthless in every respect. So of course I’ll find it difficult in the work environment today when I come across difficult attitudes in colleagues, when everything’s going wrong and no one seems to care, because it’s like being back at school, where everything really was going wrong and no one gave a fuck about my feelings.
I also realised it’s not just this month that I’m waiting for something important to happen, I’ve been waiting all my life. Whenever I come to a turning point, I always see the next one around the corner, and I’m thinking ahead to that long before it’s due to come. I’ve been in a constant state of waiting since about the age of fifteen I guess, when I wanted nothing more than to grow up and have the freedom to escape from my situation. Since then I’ve lived with the same feeling in various forms constantly, even though I am grown up now and have a vast amount of freedom compared to what I had when I was fifteen. I remain helplessly fixated on the future – my mind constantly expects things to get better next year or the year after, when I have a better job, more money, a better place to live. Until then I must live in purgatory and put up with the daily grind.
Regardless of the fact that I sat discussing this with the counsellor for nearly an hour yesterday, I began today with the same feeling of waiting for something to happen all over again, and I’ve fed it all day. I worked out how many working days we’ve got left until December, when my current job that I hate ends and I’ll either be starting a new job or I’ll be redundant.
I started a countdown calendar on my desktop which I will see every day for the rest of the year. The thought of counting down the days seemed like fun at first but now I am a slave to that countdown. It’s almost all I can focus on when I’m at work now. I know I’m making the time pass more slowly, so much so that three months will seem like a monumental epoch rather than just a quarter of a year. Now that I’ve started thinking about it that way of course I can’t stop. Yet again logic flies out of the window.