I hope I’m less mental this week. Last week was really tough and I can’t really cope with another one like it. In fact, I’ve got things to do damn it; I can’t be depressed. I need to do some work for a start. My boss is really understanding but he’s going to start getting annoyed with me soon if I don’t start functioning like a vaguely normal human being. Fiona (my job share partner) says I’m nuts, I like the way she says it though; it makes me laugh. Last week she said I was £$*^!”% nuts and I hope that’s the most nuts she sees me.

Things ARE looking better but then I’ve made this mistake before so I’m trying to take it easy today and be nice to myself. I’m going to drastically lower my expectations: if I don’t get upset today then today will be a success. It will be as much a success as someone running a mini-marathon. Or at least, I think so. I’m not really sure about that comparison but you get the idea.

Rob rang me yesterday. Thank God for Rob. At the time I was ridiculously upset about Henry. He hadn’t done anything, I’ve just been missing him a lot and seem to have had a delayed reaction to the break-up. Or maybe it’s just that recently when I’ve been too ill/depressed to spend every moment of my day busying myself with work-related stuff I’ve had more time to think about him, me, us, things.

Anyway Rob rang and I stopped being upset. And we made plans about Australia. Australia is what I’m going to do next, I think.

My job, my crutch, the only thing that has stopped me from losing it completely since H and I split up, is ending. This is one of the reasons why I’ve been struggling so much recently. It’s not as if it were unexpected, I only ever had a six month contract and while there were times when it looked like it could be extended, it’s not going to be.

So August 3rd, that’s it. Normal people might relish the possibilities that being so free offers. I just panic. A lot. So I came up with an abstract plan. A plan that involves going to Australia. I don’t have to think about a job or where I’m going to live because, in my mind, Australia fills the vacuum that is the rest of my life.

I’ve mentioned travelling before. A lot. I’m mentioned Australia too. No one ever takes any notice because I never go. Fears, excuses stand in my way: I’ve got no one to go with, what happens if I get ill – usually physically but now mentally. So I don’t go and every time I hear of anyone going travelling my heart sinks and I feel sick.

But Rob’s got September off work and a plan is formulating. Which is great but it also means that going to Australia has a start date and an end. It stops giving me an excuse for the rest of the year. And so I stop thinking about whether I’m going to go or not and start immediately stressing about what I’m going to do when I come back.