Went to see Skippinish last night at The Apex in Bury St Edmunds. They are a great modern Scottish folk group and brilliant live. I just wish that I could live in the moment. Great music and sat between my beautiful son Ewan and my life saver Kerry. A moment in time that should be savoured and grabbed hold of but yet again intrusive thoughts wormed their way into my head. We were sitting almost exactly in the same seats where myself and R watched The Peatbog Faeries years ago. I try and force myself to visit the places and listen to the music that reminds me of her, but even after over 3 years I still can't escape. I ask myself is it my mental illness that predisposes me to not let go? Am I a weirdo? Am I still broken? Do I still love her? It's when I feel that I've almost escaped her spell that I find myself living in the past.
I feel guilty about the people around me now, the people that stood by me and cared for me and kept me alive. Why can't I concentrate on them for gods sake?? It is my friends and family that deserve my undivided attention, in particular Kerry who has stood by me no matter what. I'm stuck in the past. I should've learned from it and moved on. To those that have read my lengthy blog I equated my journey to a path that wound its way up and down valleys, down deep crevasses and onto sunlit mountain tops. I've travelled up and down and around and around but now seem to be stuck at one of those passing places on a highland road. You know the one..... gravelled and with a barrier to stop you toppling over into the depths below. The view is breathtaking and even though it's much better at the top you are quite content to stay half way up. Why? Because that final push is painful and difficult, it makes your legs turn to jelly and your lungs burn. I suppose it's easier, safer to live in the past. There are no surprises in the past, no future disasters or disappointments to make you feel ill again. You look upon the past with those rose tinted glasses and kid yourself that there was hope, a future and most importantly of all love.
I tell myself constantly that it was all a lie but my brain twists and distorts the actuality of it all, despite the evidence to the contrary. I know I'm still in love with the idea of her, not the truth of who she actually was and what she did and didn't do. 3.5 years on and I still feel the need to write this shit!! It's all to do with my mental illnesses, my obsessive nature, my need to understand.
You know you shouldn't pick at a scab as it will leave a scar......Anyway here's Skippinish!
That's a beautiful piece of writing Doug, maybe that's your future!
Lots of us love and believe in you xx