Ho ho ho

Christmas was a kind of numb experience for me. I spent Christmas and Boxing day with family – that is, my body was moving around and I managed a certain degree of conversation, without feeling very present and altogether conscious. I managed to be there in body but not in mind. It’s a handy little mechanism that kicks in whenever it feels like it. I have no apparent control over it. My auntie’s baby was the only thing that pulled me back to reality, briefly. He’s now about 7 months, and a delight. I spent a happy afternoon completely hypnotised by his enthusiasm for everything, his desire to eat everything, and his temperament, which is friendly, and pretty happy to be around anyone, including me. I presented him with an assortment of toys, which he chewed. He was fascinated by my camera, which he also tried to chew. The boyfriend was around somewhere. I failed to notice anyone but the baby. It’s my hormones you see. The primitive desire to reproduce is strong in me. Although seeing the baby was also pretty scary, because I knew that my body could probably handle it, but mentally I’m not ready.

Anyway, all in all, a pretty surreal few weeks. It’s very odd, this whole depersonalisation thing. It happens most Christmases and birthdays. I’m there but not there. I go through the motions. Nothing can hurt me. I’m back at work now and still I feel that odd sort of calm, like I’m separate from my body.

Spent a few days in Oxford, with the boyfriend, which was ok in the end. But I hadn’t been looking forward to it. After the family overdose at Christmas I had the overwhelming desire to be alone, and mull over things on my own, but obviously the boyfriend would not understand this. So I wandered with him around Oxford, and we went to London to see the Millais exhibition at the Tate. Coming face to face with Millais’ work was actually a little moving. You can admire paintings when they are printed in books and on posters, but coming face to face with the originals is quite an experience. The colours are more vivid, the scale larger. It was almost worth the extortionate £10 entry fee. The South African in-laws had come with us, which was nice, and they bought me a Millais book from the Tate shop. AND the boyfriend’s mum kept taking pictures of me, and held my hand as we said goodbye. She’s my polar opposite – enthusiastic and emotional. Still, as my prozac dosage dwindles further I shall have to see what happens, maybe I’ll become emotional too. I can already feel the tears emerging with greater ease when I watch a sad TV programme.

Happy New Year to everyone who reads me. May we all get through 2008 with some degree of sanity. I hope to lose some weight this year, as my Christmas binge has resulted in some extra flab. I’m convinced my lips are getting smaller, as they disappear into the round puffy moon that is my face. Hopefully I will emerge from the fatty cocoon I have made for myself this year.