Sunday Blues

I've got the "Sunday Blues". My fragile little mind and body are definitely not friends today. I keep wondering to myself when I first experienced this feeling. Did I ever feel like this as a child when my Sundays were spent with my sister creating fictitious worlds where bedroom carpets became seas and cupboards under the stairs became entire worlds? Or as a teenager when my Sundays were spent lying in, doing homework and staying up to watch the late night Channel 4 film? In all honesty, I know when I'm going to experience "Sunday Blues" and I know why because I've experienced it more in the past two years than ever before.

Alcohol and singledom are a lethal combination. Everyone feels rubbish when they are hungover but when there is no one to wrap their arm around you feelings of patheticness and self-loathing ensue. I am pretty disappointed in myself for allowing my thoughts to wallow in such murky puddles of self-pity. However, beyond being disappointed, I am angry that the lack of a cuddle can darken my evening. I am usually the optimistic member of my gang. Proffering words of wisdom and a kick up the bum to melancholy friends far and wide but it's hard to be happy all of the time.

I have a feeling that this current case of "Sunday Blues" may be augmented by the fact that everyone around me is moving on or changing. Marriage, babies, future plans and fears. None of which I grudge but all of which seem very far away from me; glinting in the distance, something I am inexplicably drawn to but can't reach for now. At one point in my life I was certain that all of this would be in the bag by the time I turned thirty and now I'm not sure if it will or whether I want it to...

A man once said:

Sometimes life’s so much cooler when you just don’t know any better and all the painful lessons have not hammered your head open yet.

I think everybody reaches a point in their life where this is true. I think it's called adulthood. Damn you "Sunday Blues".