This weekend just passed was spent mostly at an ice rink, where The Boy was playing sledge hockey in a tournament. It was a nice weekend, we went up on Friday, stayed in a hotel, had dinner with one of his teammate's, spent time with his mum and step-dad who'd also driven up for the match, and drove back late Saturday night. Meaning Sunday was mostly spent recovering and snoozing. What we'll do if it's ever on a Sunday and we have to get up the next day is beyond me.
A brief explanation of sledge hockey, basically it's ice hockey for disabled players, originally invented for wheelchair users, at league level, both disabled and able-bodied players strap themselves into buckets on tea trays (pretty much what they are) and whizz around, using two spike ended hockey sticks to propel themselves about (the BSHA website probably explains this better). The rules are pretty much the same as in ice hockey. I'm just getting to grips with it myself. I help out on the bench at these tournaments, passing players water bottles and jelly babies (to keep their sugar levels up) and cheer them on.
This was a home match for The Boy, despite the fact we live quite a distance from the rink. It made it more fun, and they'd gone to great lengths to fundraise, with a cake stall, programs, a raffle and tickets for the crowd, people showed up just to watch and all the teams competing seemed to be enjoying themselves.
Sunday was a quiet day for us, we'd originally planned to attend a music festival, but in the end it was better that we weren't really able to as we were both quite knackered, and napped like old people in the afternoon. (Baby, if you're reading this. Stop. Now.)
Anyway, onto the second part of this post. Why I don't think I'll be completing my dissertation.
It boils down to this. I haven't got enough words written, no motivation whatsoever and I just don't see me suddenly cracking out the best part of 15000 words before the end of the month.
I need to email my tutor and confess, hopefully I can submit it at some later point, and won't have to start again with a new idea. Because, quite frankly, I'm out of them.
This summer has not been great overall. I've had no job, money worries, struggled to find something to help pay my bills, had trouble sleeping, my dad's been in hospital, I've been paranoid about losing The Boy, I feel disconnected from my friends, and that horrid creeping monster that is depression has been hanging around me again.
I've got a job interview on Thursday for a different department in the organisation I was working for most recently. Hopefully it'll go well and that'll be one less stress to deal with. I'm starting to get on top of my financial woes (I think) and a new (decently paid) job would definitely help with that.
The sleeping tablets I've been taking aren't really helping, but if things start to be less stressful, maybe I'll finally get some real sleep.
My dad's recovery from heart surgery is slow going, he needs to have a further procedure at some point, but right now he's trying to get the doctors to agree to let him go back to work, as sitting around doing nothing is driving him mad. My best friend's dad is also in hospital following an operation. What is it with these dads? We need them to stick around just a few more years at least. Fingers crossed they'll be better soon.
My worries about my relationship are probably nothing, we argue a fair amount and often seem to misunderstand each other and end up sulking and frustrated. It's a year next month that we've been together, and I don't want that to be it. We need to work on our communication, and are looking at going away, just the two of us, no family visits or hockey matches, just a little time for the two of us to be together. I hope that'll help. He's wonderful and I don't want to lose him.
As for the creeping depression, I know it's going to be tough to shake, sometimes I've managed to bury it in the past, but it doesn't ever really go away. A friend I hadn't spoken to in a while sent me a message on facebook the other day, saying how impressed she was that I write about this, as she doesn't feel that she could write about her feelings and her depression. I suppose I do it as a form of therapy, if it's written down (here or somewhere else) maybe I'm not carrying it around as much.
I don't really know. With this there is no real answers. Just guess work and a lot of hoping that tomorrow I'll be ok.
On that slightly bleak note, enjoy your week. Some comments would be nice, as it does feel like I'm writing into the ether sometimes. Or not. Who knows.