In between mowing and strimming the lawn, finishing my ironing, feeding the birds, walking Toby, watching films and cooking myself some decent food…I’ve finally finished a piece of work that I should have tackled for work a year ago.
Is it strange that I would rather be told off for not doing something than disappoint someone by doing it badly? I panic about getting things wrong, not putting the right answers to a question and seeing that look on their face that says I’ve gone down in their estimations.
Well I’ve done what I always do and left it till the point where I will get in serious trouble if it’s not done before finishing it. That way I can almost dissociate from it, someone else takes over who can think ‘fuck it’ and just write down whatever sounds right, can sit and concentrate on it for long enough to get it done. I’ve always done this with coursework, my dissertation being the best example…you’d think I’d learn my lesson when I nearly have a nervous breakdown due to computer failure just before it’s due in, but no.
Next to tackle: Finding all that information.
But just at the wrong time I’m struggling, my internal voices are screaming at me.
I know, I hate myself you don’t have to go on about it.
~you’re going to lose your job over this~
They can’t, they can’t fire me over it
~yes they can and you know it~
They wouldn’t, I’m good at what I do, the effort I’ve put in, the times I’ve put my health at risk for it, they can’t
~they can, you’ve been warned that if you don’t do what they ask of you you’ll fail your probation~
Shut up, shut up, shut up!
~ hahaha you can’t shut me up, I know you, I know everything you’ve ever been scared of, every moment of doubt~
I’ll fight you
~you can try, but you’ll never win, you never win at anything, you’re a fat loser and always have been~
~ You’re an unorganised filthy little cow, just look at the mess you’ve made of your house it’s disgusting, you should be ashamed. You don’t deserve that job, you don’t deserve a pet like Toby, you don’t deserve anything other than to be alone in your disgusting little pit on your nasty estate surrounded by druggies and slack jawed chavs~
Stop, please just stop it, be quiet and let me rest
~so that’s your idea of fighting is it? soon you’ll be nothing, you’ll be back where you were, in the hospital being watched to make sure you didn’t do anything more stupid than you had already. No one trusts you, no one cares about you, why don’t you just give in and do the world a favour~
*queue Toby with his wet nose nudging me because of the keening coming from my throat*
Hello little man, I’m OK honest…*gives me a look* OK, OK I’ll let you out in the garden…*jumps out the door and looks at me expectantly* yes OK I’ll come with you…. *paws are suddenly on my chest and a nose in my face so I can’t help but smile* Thank you you gorgeous little fur ball, I love you too.