As I explained only a couple of weeks ago, I try not to make a habit out of eagerly anticipating a message from any given man. I don’t like checking my phone constantly on the off-chance that some guy decides he wants me. Regular readers know I always introduce these posts by saying ‘this… BUT’ though, so here comes the ‘BUT’… recently I’ve found myself itching to hear from somebody in particular. Refreshing my email (yes, I use email, I am forty one years of age and I like to ramble so email is my medium: deal with it, Zoomers) hoping for any kind of contact.

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How do you feel right now, emotionally? If you came up with something like ‘sad’ or ‘happy’ or ‘angry’, can you drill down a little deeper into that emotion? Is it possible to identify what’s causing it, or is it a vague sense that you can’t explain? Are there other feelings swirling around to keep that first one company? Or even ones that seem to exist in conflict with it? It’s possible, after all, to feel both angry and content – one an immediate flash of something bad, set against a backdrop of a life that’s otherwise giving you all the things you need. How good are you at identifying your emotions? In how much detail could you answer the question: how do you feel right now?

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It’s embarrassing to admit that I don’t like myself very much. Far more embarrassing, though, to tell you all that sometimes I think I’m OK. The latter carries way more shame, I want to whisper it in small-font italics. Sometimes I think I’m quite good, actually. Occasionally the tall, loud, brash, opinionated mess that makes up ‘me’ doesn’t feel so obnoxious. I like myself when I’m with you.

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Usually when I split up with someone, I’ll wallow in wistful nostalgia and take a little time to say goodbye. I’ll be gutted, of course, but sadness is familiar and life has helpfully taught me that it will pass. This time it’s different: I’ve found myself frightened and destabilised – turning fear and despair inwards till the panic of it starts to choke me. Life goes on, though! Unfortunately, it kind of has to! Despite my most fervent wishes, I am not allowed to just shut down all my organs and give up the ghost! This is partly because my lovely friends won’t let me. Here are eight things I have been offered by kind people who want to comfort me in the darkness.

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When I was young, my family used to be big followers of soaps: Neighbours, Eastenders, Coronation Street. I can’t remember what else there was to do on evenings in the nineties besides yell things at the telly as ludicrous fictional characters cocked up their lives in ever more creative ways. Perhaps this is testament to how my Mum raised me, but when I watched soaps, the thing that got me most irate was how terrible people were at just fucking talking to each other. 

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