Walking Away

Yesterday I felt really bad; just bewildered and hopeless. I left early having done nothing, and went home. I knitted for a bit, but my hand-eye coordination seemd to be all over the place and I was really struggling- damn rib stitch has me flummoxed anyway! I got some of my phtos from Prague and my sketch pad, intending to copy one of the old buildings in pencil. I never looked at the photo, and began to draw without any plan. It came out pretty f*cked up, with bodies and shadows and falling people, all watched over by an enourmous eye. I should post it for psychoanalysis. Andy came back and cooked, and I watched TV, refusing to engage with what I was seeing and be entertained by it. I said I was going to bed, but just lay for a while, sometimes crying, sometimes just staring at the ceiling. I wanted a hug, and to squash my head against Andy's warm skin. He wouldn't need to speak, just to hold me. I hesitated at the lounge door: Jac and Donna were still in there. I swore at my own stupidity, and made myself enter the room, and be part of the gathering. I chatted to Jac for a while about her holiday. Donna asked me if I was ok; said I looked tired. I was: unbelievable so, but my eyes were bleary from crying, not from tiredness. After we went to bed, I managed to have a proper chat to Andy. He misses the proper me too- the me that has life and a spark and an energy. The me that would go climbing and be spontaneous and seize opportunites. I'm trying to get that back, I really am. I think I have to make a change, get a new job, and at least give myself the chance to be happy and fulfilled. We talked about him leaving too. I said he might find it difficult and not want a long distance relationship; he conceeded this, but pointed out that maybe it won't happen and we will survive. I wish I could go with him, but with no prospect of a work permit I'd be completely reliant on him; I'd live my life through him, and neither of us want that.

I got a reply to the 'casual inquiry' I sent to St Martin's college about their PGCE. They are interviewing physics and chemistry teachers tomorrow, so I might have just missed the boat on that one- but I spent the whole day writing a CV and letter of application anyway, because there is a chance they might not fill all their places. Andy was wonderful; proof-reading for me, and making changes so instead of saying 'I am crap, please kill me' my letter now reads 'I am wonderful, please give me a job'. I have also began filling out the online application to go into clearing for PGCE places. Its a fairly hefty form, you have to pay, and, oops, I probably should tell my supervisors I want to leave. I am swept away by all this and it feels unreal at the moment, but a big part of me feels I am doing the right thing: my over-riding emotion is relief.