Winter is here. The first snow fell this morning. The heating and fan in my car has broken and soon I won't be able to get away with driving with the windows open to demist it. Last year I sat some mornings for ten minutes in my car waiting for the heat to melt the ice from the inside of the windscreen! I always loved winter but last year was the coldest we've had in this country in many's a year and I don't know if I have the balls to cope with another one like that. Especially not if my car is going to be practically undriveable. I live on a steep, steep hill now which seems to have it's own weather system which runs several degrees lower in temperature than the rest of the city; often with stronger winds than I feel completely confident letting my cat out to roam in. And getting down the hill safely in the ice is really just a matter of sheer luck.
Tomorrow I go back to work. Today I am not real. I keep 'coming to' and panicking that I'm so spaced out that I might forget to go to work tomorrow. It's hard to imagine me; this person, going to work tomorrow. I wonder where I am going to muster the energy or capacity from. I remind myself that it won't be me, it will be her and this settles me.
I went to the Christmas markets again yesterday and looked at all the candies and fudges and weird meats and cheeses. I stood staring at the olives wishing I could take some home with me and once again my husband asked me if I'd like him to buy some for me and once again I shook my head, taking heed of the voice that tells me that nice, expensive things are not for the likes of me. I put my tree up yesterday. It's not exactly finished yet because I ran out of energy (that and Adam left a box of decorations in the loft, despite my usual "Did you definitely get every box because you know we always seem to miss one?" and his usual ''Yes, that's all of them.") but it's pretty. The snow is outside. I have wrapped half of the presents and am wearing Christmas pyjamas as we speak. But where is Christmas? I look at the tree and think it's odd because it couldn't be Christmas. I look at my body sitting here in my pyjamas and think it's odd because I don't know the person I'm looking at. Who am I? I look around the room and wonder how on earth I ended up in this house, with this husband. Who am I? What is this life? I know this cat cuddling up to my leg, but while being familiar, it's suddenly unfamiliar... foreign... new... not my life. Where should I be? Who should I be?
Tomorrow morning I go to see T at clinical psychology. I wonder what I am going to be able to talk about. I feel I will be meeting her like it's the first time. I find it hard to imagine what she could know about me. I feel like I should go in and introduce myself and hope that she will explain what I am going to be doing there... yet at the same time, I know her. I know what has gone before. It's just not exactly mine. I feel like I have read over a report of what Candycan has been doing in therapy and now I will have to go along and pretend to be her, when I'm not. I'm not! I'm not Candycan! Who am I?