Letter number 30: Deceleration

Dear Alexandra,

I’ve not really felt a strong urge to write to you today, but as I established several letters ago these letters are really to myself, and I do think they are a useful journal in how things are going. Sherlock Bert has become quieter, although still requisitions my phone for a sneaky look on occasion — he’s not found much of interest which may be why he’s receding. He found you’d replied to one of his tweets, but it wasn’t anything ‘incriminating’ if that’s the right word.

You posted a photo on Instagram too (in Sherlock Bert’s defence, the phone did notify us of this) with the caption ‘I am the one thing in life I can control’ which of course is a quote from Hamilton. I did amuse me, and Angry Bert was quite tempted to comment something sarcastic on it, only fleetingly though. To be honest, hopefully it’s something that starts to come true. You’re looking really well though, of course you are a master of the filters though, haha!

He has not posted anything of note, but seems more down. I feel bad for him, he’s still de-moonlighted his Twitter. Maybe you just told him to tone all that stuff down on there since that was what gave the whole game away. I don’t think so though, as he certainly didn’t after we last saw each other.

But y’know what? It really doesn’t matter. I do care about you, but I must accept that whatever ridiculous things you did and might still be doing, and whether you are potentially damaging someone else really isn’t my concern. I am still a bit concerned that by doing it you’re only reinforcing your self-loathing, but again, I can’t do anything about that either. I should stop thinking about it. I’m trying to.

Yesterday was a good day — I played football, and it was fine. I was a little worried about it, given the medical drama earlier in the week but I’ve been sensible, taken rest, and when I’ve walked I’ve felt fine. We won, I got to be on R.’s team again. After the game I went back to his to spend time with him and his family, it was lovely to see them all, we had some food and I helped them lug an old children’s play cabin thing to a new spot in the garden.

After a bit of chill time at home with Sonic it was off out again to meet M, P and J for something to eat at the pub next to the park we used to love walking in. To be fair, I still do (I don’t think I’ve been since we finished, but I went plenty of times without you before that and I will again). It was great to spend time with them, we didn’t really talk about anything specific — just general catching up between old friends who spend too little time together.

I’ve also accepted that I need to slow down on the brain stuff — I’m convinced my reluctance to do that, going straight back to work, worrying about you, grieving what’s happened to me — all the things — contributed to my blacking out. Whilst I occasionally get the odd bout of light-headedness when getting up from a relaxed position there’s been nothing outside of the normal, and I’ve been trying to make sure that I take steps to not spring up suddenly, eat at the dining table etc. Admittedly I don’t do it all the time, haha!

Yesterday I texted my manager to tell him I didn’t think I was ready to come back to work — I’ve been fighting the feeling of being some kind of skiver or fraud, but I just don’t think I have the brain space for it. Whilst I’ve been taking it a lot more easy over the last week I’m still devilishly tired, and even after a sensible bed time and normal getting up time I find myself needing to take the occasional nap during the day.

This morning I called my GP to see if they could advise on the referral I should have from my trip to A&E, they didn’t know anything. I called the department at the hospital I’ve been referred to, they didn’t either — they’re awaiting the admin work to be done but advised there was a 2–3 month wait for these things typically. Not quite the ‘couple of days’ the A&E consultant said! I’ve decided to wait a few weeks and then chase — I’m not worried for now, I’ve been fine physically.

If there’s any relapse or re-occurrence then it’ll be just a case of hitting up 111 or even 999 if it’s bad. I’ve also activated fall detection on my watch, as well as sharing my location with Mum and E. just in case. At first it made me feel like a terribly vulnerable old man, but it’s a good idea really just in case. We used to share our locations with each other so that we could meet more easily, and it helped with the smart home automations I set up. I do kinda miss that.

I have been good at not reaching out to you or your Mum, our last messages were around the alpacas with the silly haircuts, last I heard from your Mum was last Wednesday. This weekend has reinforced for me that keeping myself distracted does kinda work, being with people or playing football keeps the things out of my mind for minutes on end. The trick I need to learn is to be able to spend time alone at home doing that. Sonic helps, of course, when he’s not viciously preening my face, but I can fall into melancholy if I’m not careful.

Two deliveries arrived today — one from S. which included a lovely card, some seeds to plant, some helpful thought cards and an awesome duck ornament in honour of the festival she created and I helped with. Really kind. The other was from Aunty B. a card with some lovely words included and some books she thought might be helpful. She is of course a qualified psychotherapist, but well, calling on those professional skills doesn’t feel appropriate — crossing the family and therapist streams, oh no! She much like the rest of my family don’t know quite the depths to which you sunk in sabotaging our relationship.

Today I’ve been overtly trying to be restful — I don’t want to start becoming bedridden so still got up when I normally would, sorted Sonic out, and put some films on I love. I’ve cooked a really nice lunch (Lemony Seabass with Bulgar wheat and charred courgettes) which is now settling. I’m planning on going out for a gentle walk this afternoon before getting back in time for my first ‘Low Mood Webinar’ — the offering from the NHS to treat my depression/anxiety.

I’m expecting that this will reinforce and hopefully put some structure around a lot of the things I’ve been doing proactively and through the Facebook group. It’s basically a one-way CBT crash course which as far as I can tell will basically be guiding you to be mindful of your thinking, and how that drives how you feel — pretty much a flowered up version of the book I’ve still not quite finished. If I get out for a walk shortly I might have time to have a stop part way round and get that finished off. Although it might bear re-visiting, as I did find it very helpful and feel like I might have got out of the habit of listening to it.

I wonder if you even considered giving it a try after I emailed it to you? You don’t generally like the idea that you are actually capable of influencing your feelings, much preferring to land it at the door of things you’re not responsible for like your hormones or cycle. Hopefully you have, because I do think it will help if it cuts through for you as it did for me — but well, that’s your choice!

Increasingly I’ve started to realise that my drive to stay in touch with you, to maintain a friendship even, is probably built on quite fragile foundations. The motivations are rooted in worrying about you cutting out positive things in your life and substituting them with fake things — your choice — the idea of wasting the last six or so years and ending up with nothing to show for it, not really a good reason, and of course because we have a lot of mutual friends and it will make things easier in that environment. But again, you seem to be cutting them out too (or pretending they are cutting you out).

I’m definitely not ready to overtly sever ties — I don’t want to in any way contribute to any decisions you might make to wholly immerse yourself in a virtual world — but I have noted an inkling in my head that there’s really a need to manage that worry better. To stop looking for reasons to worry, get Sherlock Bert back in his box and be available should you reach out. Similar with your Mum, that does make me sad, I loved being a surrogate part of your family and she’s obviously done nothing wrong at all — it makes me sad that we’ll inevitably lose touch over time.

The ‘Action for Happiness’ app that S. suggested I download made a great suggestion yesterday. It said to ‘Let go of the things you cannot change’ — what a simple and brilliant piece of advice. That’s what I’m trying to do, I guess — everything I’ve either been thinking for myself or reading tends to lead back to that same basic truth. It’s easier said than done — I felt like I was doing that a couple of weeks ago, so I’m sure I can again.

So this week is about trying to proactively manage more time around the house alone, no work distractions, trying to rest — not just bodily — but mentally too. I need to reframe here as my home, rather than the one I was trying to develop for us. I’m going to get Dad to come round with his jet washer to sort out the assorted bird cages, then I can dismantle the ones I’m not using to store somewhere, I’ll get the spare room sorted as a guest room again then. Everything else is in pretty good order.

Whilst I planned these things aside from what would be your computer room you never showed much interest in home stuff, so everything pretty much has been my planning, my choices. Sometimes with you in mind, sometimes not. Of course having a dressing table set up with a light up mirror isn’t something of massive use to me, but maybe I can re-appropriate it for some other purpose. It used to live in the spare bedroom, maybe I’ll put it back there so I don’t walk past it every time I go to bed.

One thing I did do more symbolically than for any other reason was get curious about the Dating option Facebook seems to have now. God it’s awful, haha! Definitely not ready to actually jump into that cesspit just yet I don’t think, but I suppose even symbolically moving the dial to thinking about what comes next on some level rather than ruminating on the past is a good thing. It did amuse me how Facebook thoughtfully offered to sensitively suppress memories/posts involving you when we changed our status on there to ‘hey, start Dating!’ within a matter of days though.

But no, having experimented with Tinder after C. and before you, I don’t think that’s the way forward for me! It was horrible. Still, it passes the time. And damages the ego at the same time when you don’t see any ‘likes’ — but that’s okay. I’ll probably delete the Dating bit of my profile soon, but trying on the idea at least of there being someone else in my future didn’t feel quite such a scary prospect. That’s a positive!

I hope you’re okay, Bert