My new found optimism is fading badly.

J’s Diary Entry

Tuesday, 16 May 1995

Trying hard to hold it together.  My new found optimism is fading badly.  Spent another day mired in ill-humour.  Christopher Watts rang me at work and invited me to the Builders Arms again. (He cancelled last time).  I rushed home, showered, caught a tram back into the City and waited for the No 86 to Bundoora.  I waited.  And waited… and waited.  A No 96 tram driver told us it was due to power failures.  When No 86 finally came, the conductor said it wasn’t going up Smith or Brunswick Street, so I jumped off the tram in confusion. I could have asked if it was going up Gertrude Street, but I didn’t want people staring at me.  I caught a tram home, stuck opposite an attractive woman which only added nervousness to my self-loathing.  The phone rang around 8pm, but I let it ring out.  Christopher will ring me at work tomorrow.  I feel a bit ashamed of myself.  I want to crawl into a cave and die.  I want to withdraw completely, I feel like such a failure.  I felt so good the last week or so, and now I feel like that’s gone, and I feel its absence more keenly now than before.  I secretly hope that Christopher will abuse me and never want to see me again, it would preclude me from further disappointing him.

I’m feeling resentful towards Cav.  It’s awkward, he sort of looks at me, I pretend not to notice. I’ve said hi to Quinn and Nadia.  Things are so complicated.  On one hand I stand-up Christopher yet again, and on the other I nurse a bitter resentment to Cav for doing the same to me, while I try to write cheery letters to my sister about her impending motherhood.  I feel so awkward, unnatural, as if all my actions are stilted and false.  I dearly want a drink, to wash out this nasty optimism and return to my natural state of rancour.


fading paint

Sketch by J

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