Dear Dobson,
I have an essay to produce in sixteen days and as you might predict motivation is low, so I thought it was time to pay a visit to our sacred space.
I have found myself wondering if this complete lack of focus is what it's like to have ADHD? If so, it must be exhausting. My brain only seems to be able to cope with minute pieces of information and I'm finding it frustrating. In a bid to change this state of affairs and given my surplus of singleton hours, I have taken to watching series after series of anything in a foreign language. As you know I'm a fan of anything dark and Scandinavian, so both series of 'The Bridge' (Bron || Broen) have been an absolute godsend. I'm now into the third series of 'Spiral', which is also dark but French. Watching this kind of thing forces me to engage.
My heart remains broken; my emotions feel as if they've been blasted into a million pieces - someone has kindly scooped them up and plopped them in a bucket for me, but now they have to be sifted through. That's proving more painful than the initial blasting itself.
I am doing my utmost to be 'normal' and do 'normal' things. Parenthood offers little space for indulgence which can be both a blessing and a curse, my singing is on the up, college is going well (essay aside), I'm back running regularly and support from friends and family is forthcoming. However...
Going through the motions has never been my bag and there is a distinct lack of joy in most of what I do right now. Where is the fucking joy Dobson?
Speaking of fucking, the last time that happened was Christmas night and I miss the physical contact. Though having said that, the idea of being intimate with anyone ever again terrifies me and it all feels a bit dead from the waist down.
As I said, where is the fucking joy Dobson?
Right, I'm off to watch another couple of episodes of Spiral. The essay can wait.
Frankie
