The frustration is the worst thing about days like today. In all honesty, I am pushing myself further than I should and trying to achieve a goal that ultimately doesn’t really mean anything. Pushing myself to the limit because I don’t want to leave my colleague to cover my Friday afternoon jobs (report, report, repeat). A bit of reflection over the past three days highlighted a possible link between slow days at work (read: under-used, under-valued and generally b o r e d) and heightened mixed moods. Today goes against the grain; I’ve been a busy, busy woman playing the high-powered executive that my mask demands yet I am finding myself drifting into the muddy waters of mixed-mood.
Back to that frustration then. It’s hard to write eloquently about it because it is so confusing. It is the conflict between doing what I ‘should’ do and wanting more. I work so hard at just being a regular person who can do a regular job with regular hours. It is this kind of mood that leaves me yearning for an adventure, needing to rebel against the 9-5 existence and break free. I am sick of fighting with myself. You can’t let anyone down argues with screw the lot of them. And I honestly don’t know what to do about it. I know that it would be a lot easier to just allow myself a little slack in the reins; I keep them pulled tight out of a sense of obligation to society to fit in.
On my referral to the Personality Disorders team I had to answer a few questions about the things I wanted to achieve from talking therapies. I can’t remember my exact words but I wrote a lot about wanting to learn how to be satisfied with what I’ve got, about feeling trapped by my wonderful life. Writing this out now feels like a betrayal of my husband who I know will read this; once again I feel like admitting things is hurting him. There’s nothing in the world that makes me happier than being with him. So why this need to bust open the back door and invite the world for a party?