Friday, 8 April 2011

Maybe I need to shoot zombies

Ah, how can one feel sad on such a beautiful day? How is it possible to feel so low when nature is so high on life? My mood ricochets so fast I go dizzy; my heart expands and then tightens; my soul soars and then plummets, in freefall.
Is this the price one pays for being a writer; for living in one’s mind, in the imagination, so much? Does it leave dissatisfaction with the mundane world of everyday, of dust and dinner, of routine and responsibility?

I am struggling right now. I’ve had the contract for a project sitting on my desk now for the last five days. Last night I made myself sign it and felt a chill breeze of despond flutter the pages. What is the matter with me? Why does it feel such a big deal? It’s just a book. It’s just a job. It won’t even bear my name; nobody will know. Since when did I become so precious? It’s not even as though I have any great literature in me yearning to push itself into the world. Ah, maybe that is it. Maybe it’s the futility of it all. The nonsense of ego that craves attention. The foolishness of middle age. The sense that time is hurtling by and I’m being swept along with it.

Maybe, as I said yesterday, the sticking plaster over this festering sore is to get out the mind and into the body. Yesterday I punished myself with an hour of kettlebell class. It was tough; my muscles whimpered but it felt good. I slept for once. But still I couldn’t dream.

This morning it was yoga. Out in the air, on the grass, the sun beating down. I opened my eyes and gazed at the sky, so clear, so blue. Felt the earth under my body. Felt so strange, an insect Velcroed to the planet by gravity, a speck on a speck spinning in space. As we fell into pranayama, I fell into the sky, dropped away. Normally it feels good; normally the universe feels like a comforting place. Today it felt like I was spinning into a void.

‘Are you alright, Mum?’ said James later as I stood at the sink, washing up in a daze.
‘Of course I am, love,’ I replied.
‘You don’t seem it,’ he countered.
Oh hell. I try to keep my mood dips away from him, I really do. I guess I don’t always succeed.
‘When I feel low, I lose myself in a game,’ he said, patting my back as if I were the child, he the parent. ‘Black Ops is pretty good for that.’

Ah so. Maybe we all do it in different ways. Some with television or games; some with food and alcohol; some with pulp fiction; some with sport and exercise, with adrenalin or endorphins.

Maybe I just need to shoot me some zombies.

7 comments:

Zoë said...

*raises hands*

FIRE AT WILL

NO! not him -although the Royal Wedding stuff is really getting on my nerves

I meant Zombies like me who inhabit the land of the living dead.

Understand how you feel - I seem to be on a perpetual merry-go-round of highs and lows, despite the 60mg of Prozac each day.

The hens help, which I think can be attributed to the fact I am caring for creatures less fortunate than myself, so whilst not advocating hens, maybe doing something for someone/something else would help? #just saying

xxxxx

Exmoorjane said...

Zoe: oh lovey...I feel such a heel, so so SO self-indulgent. Really need to give myself a great big slap. Can't go down the hen route...they give me the heebies.. :) But really, I have no right whatsoever. Just biochemical probably... xxxx

Dorothy said...

Cheer up girl - this life only lasts about 100 years, or not! I'm heading into my 77th in a few days - the first 50 were pretty crappy, but things improved greatly. You give people thought-provoking ideas and LOTS of giggles, you are creating a great service to humanity - even though some of them don't deserve it.

BTW - can you ditch the snow scene in your banner. I think we've all seen enough of that s**t to last us a while - just sayin'.

Exmoorjane said...

Dorothy - you are fabulous! Yeah, you're totally right about the pic. I'm sick to the back teeth with it too. Just can't find another decent one that will fit. Any thoughts?

Kim said...

I understand that. I so do.

Stephen Page said...
This comment has been removed by the author.
Stephen Page said...

Bang, bang. Good post.