So, today, I FINALLY worked out what it is that constantly bothers me.

Is it the creeping fear and realisation that at some point in the not entirely distant future, it is likely that I won’t be able to see? Surprisingly not.

Is it the dawning thought that I have spent SO much money on an extensive education that I will probably never turn into the career I always dreamed of? Kind of, but, not really. I mean, I don’t want to be someone who doesn’t DO anything. I can argue all I like that children, and not becoming a mental health statistic are some things that legitimately take up my time, but… Anyway… I fully intend to sit down on Tuesday (when ALL the school is back in and start writing a screenplay. I mean, I’ve never written one, but, last time I sat down to write something it was a book. It exists. I mean, it will never exist as a book, because it causes too much harm to people who are not me. But, it exists as a joined together collection of sentences, which is kind of a book. So, who’s to say I can’t write a screenplay? I can at least see where the idea goes? I am AWESOME at ideas. Turns out I am useless at absolutely everything else, so….

Is it that I am still being kicked in my sleep by a 5 year old that snores louder than I do AND grinds her teeth? Irritating as all hell, but, no.

Is it that school is back in on Monday, and I don’t feel like we really had any time off? Distressing, but no.

Turns out the real, if I could get this piece of grit out, then all would heal, sadness, is having devoted my whole life to something that is not real. Having lost the ability to share my life, and thoughts and feelings and experiences in any real, genuine, way. having given up all the connections to give everything I am to one, and have that broken. it’s the single most unfixable thing.

it’s fine to be accused of having sadness at the essence of my being. But, this is an unfair depiction. It probably is NOW, but, this is not a reflection of ME. This is the thing I have been trying for years to fix, to change. But, tonight I articulated it, and I realise that it is not something that can ever change now. So, perhaps it is to accept that sadness IS the essence. And also to understand that no one can accept that. The exhortations to walk away from people who can only bring sadness to your life are real, and people do walk away from that. Perhaps that is what has kept me from Mental health services, having lost irretrievably to part of me that can be connected and understood, and open, there is no high place to go to. How could there be?

I have certainly heard that my overwhelming sadness is not tolerable to others. I am human, and have no wish to inflict such on people, so, having been told as much, would never push any connection, aware as I am that it only hurts people.

But, now, I have learnt where that comes from, and why it is not fixable. it feels hugely revelatory, and somehow soothing, even if it is not fixable. Understanding is reward in itself I guess. To know one is cast adrift is, I suppose, the only way one could ever hope to be something else.

Most people are not Tom Hanks though. Most people in the sea, in storms, alone, will not make it. And, even if they do, then they are found back into a life that doesn’t need them anymore, and there’s nothing they can do about it. There’s nothing I can do about it either.