Out Of Control


Well, its been a shit few days again, make no mistake.

I crawled into E's about 1.30am on Friday morning, after seeing The Cure at Wembley Arena. I originally had plans to stay with my gig buddy, having known that the show will be both stupendously long (195 minutes), and finish quite late (11.27pm). Nonetheless, plans had to be turned on their heads late in the day and so I had to arrange to arrive at E's, which wasn't in the plan at all. I ended up getting back at 1.30am. X woke me up at 6.50am by feeding me chocolate. He quietly sat next to me and the two of us hung out as I, somewhat exhaustedly, lay in bed trying to summon the energy to get up. I was feeling pretty rough, and with a headache and a temperature - presumably by sleeping on a couch with a razor-thin blanket for company.

As the day wore on, I helped E unpack her books and CD's and DVD's. Around 1.23, I went to the toilet, then went to rest my eyes on the bed upstairs. Five hours later, I finally awoke with a temperature, sweating and shivering under three jumpers. I was meant to be taking X back and looking after him this weekend, me and X were meant to be hunting Easter Eggs and for me to take him on a train. He loves going on trains with his Dad.

After a headache which hit about 8.30pm - which made me feel as if I have been punched repeatedly in the brain - it quickly became apparent that I wasn't going anywhere this weekend with him. In some respects I feel as if .. because I went straight to work on Monday after a weekend ill - that by 'slowing down' on Friday my body finally collapsed. I often feel that after a period of time where I feel I've been very busy my body will catch up with illness as soon as I start to relax, as if tension and business has kept illness at bay. Nonetheless, Friday was most spent asleep with a temperature and shivers and shake and sweats and a headache and generally feeling absofuckinglutely bloody terrible. I didn't want to be at E's : it's not my home and we did split up for a reason, after all, a reason that became apparent on Friday night when she asked me a question but didn't like the answer I gave.

This morning, I felt.... OK. My temperature has finally gone, but I couldn't, in all honesty, look after him - not for two days in a row. I was unable. So, for the second week in a row, I've had to bow out from looking after my son much as I would want to, to factors out of my control that are very frustrating and that I cannot in any way control. If I could control things, it would be very different. I took him to the shops and the park, which, in the freezing wind felt roughly like having to climb Everest whilst wearing flip-flops, before I had to fall into a haphazard way of going home. Eventually, I was home and trying to live quietly and recover. I have no idea if it worked. I feel as if I let him down again, which I really didn't want to do.


- posted by Mark @ 8:32 pm