Running A Depressive Theme

If you do not wish to hear me whine,
dismiss yourself from this blog
this theme will run for at least a week.

I am a wallower, so there.

Exhausted or not, sleep brought no relief, I was up at 12
at 3, at 6, at 9, YM begin to potter about in the kitchen
and I opened my eyes
and thought "God not this fucking nightmare again"
somedays you just wish you could curl up into
a ball and not face reality.
Bawl.

Then I hear YM squealing through my door
at something in the kitchen
"Oh my god, oh god, oh..eeww"
I am afraid he's hurt himself so I dash
into my robe and out the door
"What's wrong?"

"Jemima is eating a mouse on the kitchen stoop"
he announces, turning towards me
he takes one look at my face and scoops me into a bear hug
I must look like shit.

We have breakfast, though I don't feel like eating
the bloody mouse has completed the turning of my belly
I layan him, because he is doing his utmost to cheer me up
he offers to make me breakfast even
and I do feel slightly better

Then its time to drop him off
I go to get my bag, and in it find
a note left unseen til now
a mere scrap of paper that
I don't even need to unfold to know what it is
one look and I am collapsing on my bed
a broken dam again, til YM summons me
in the car, he hugs me again

I apologise again and again for being 'such a girl'
he laughs and tells me its okay, so long as I cry
when someone is there to comfort me
and dont cry so much that I am blinded
and crash the car.

Friggin PMT without the P.