THESTRALS

We all have low moments don’t we? It’s odd but this week, it’s my turn.

Yeah I know, sigh. Yesterday I suggested throwing my phone into the sea. Bit of a clue. I’m clearly struggling with the world.

“It’s the joys of getting old, Matt,” said someone at work today. That’s a thing that can only be said by a slightly older person isn’t it. I still protest at this though - there’s no reason why age should mean aches and ennui. And there’s no reason why ‘joy’ has to look like melancholy over forty. I refuse to believe it.

Nevertheless, I’m struggling. I need a friend who really gets it, and while joy shouldn’t depart in middle age, the commodity of close friendships gets harder and harder to hold on to. There are things going on in my world that are too heavy to talk about, and it feels as though they can only be really seen by those who’ve seen them. They are thestrals, if you’ll pardon the niche reference, and I don’t know if many folk out there have any idea what it’s like to see one.

This is why I don’t think throwing my phone in the sea will help. I need the people on the other end. It would be like throwing myself in, just to avoid the shore.

I don’t think this has anything to do with the election by the way. That result made me apprehensive, but it isn’t the source of my low mood. There’s an unpredictability about all of that far beyond the turbulent world inside my head and weary heart. I’m leaving off social media for a while.

I’ve got enough to deal with without all that noise.