I’m out of order

I’m feeling a little out of order. Too much to process. So I’m sending you back in time to a post I called “Dark Clouds”. It scares me a little to read it and realise I pushed the publish button.

It’s a little confronting even for me, and it’s MY head. I’m not sure I’m capable of being that honest anymore.

It’s a post about me dealing with my emotions by hearing songs in my head. I’m feeling some pretty intense emotions at the moment, but there are no songs. That’s a bit scary too. I need my songs back. I’ve told Husband I want an iPod Touch for Christmas with all my favourite tracks on it. Rather a long time to wait, but anyways, them’s the breaks when your birthday and Mother’s Day have already passed. I want lots of that good Snow Patrol album, the Madonna Music album, some Crowded House, the Pink “We’re all pink on the inside” song, stuff like that.

OK, deep breath – here’s the repost …

When I’m processing my emotions, I hear songs in my head. Yesterday at 6.30am, I pulled on my trainers and went for a walk. The air was mild, the sky was blue, the world felt like the most wonderful place. Kate Bush started serenading me with Cloudbusting and I was humming along …

“Ooh, I just know that something good is gonna happen.

And I don’t know when,

But just saying it could even make it happen …”

I was positive something good was going to happen, because it always does (sometimes it just takes a while). And I was reminded again of Angela Mollard’s Sunday magazine column – I think I have a girl crush – Words To Live by: “Remember when you were little and you loved kaleidoscopes? The tiniest twist, and the pattern would change. Life’s like that – but be exhilarated, not cowed … Ahead are days of miracle and wonder.”

Isn’t that beautiful? What miracles and wonders await me? I’ve got a really good feeling. And it should last until at least until 5pm.

There’s something about 5pm that kills me. The night before, around that time, I felt like curling up in a ball. After school, the Sprogs pleaded with me to play Polly Pockets with them, but I begged off citing a headache. So they chopped up half a dozen egg cartons into tiny, little pieces and scattered them all over the playroom instead. I took some headache tablets and moped in the kitchen. Despite my resolve to not drink Monday to Thursday, I opened a cheap bottle of pinot grigio and furtively guzzled a few glasses while I cooked dinner. The soundtrack in my head was a rather mournful, self-composed refrain:

“If I really neeeeed a drink, I must be an alcoholic!

Woe is me.”

I’m a terrible singer – even inside my head – so I switched to Snow Patrol’s Set The Fire To The Third Bar:

“I’m miles from where you are
I lay down on the cold ground
And I pray that something picks me up
And sets me down in your warm arms”

Why? Because in the movie script I haven’t written, that’s the song playing when the weekly magazine editor collapses – on the “cold ground” – from alcohol abuse (I swear, it’s not autobiographical).

After two drinks, I felt much better about life. I was laughing and joking with the Sprogs, I didn’t even mind when they said my homemade wonton soup was “watery”.

But I knew happiness wasn’t to be found in a bottle. And I wondered where the real thing was hiding.

I have no idea what sparked my low mood. It wasn’t that time of the month, nothing bad had happened to me – other than having to pay $1300 to get my farking car serviced (more than 10% of its total value, they saw me coming). I just felt bleeeeeaaaaaak. When Husband got home, he asked how I was and got a wan “not so good”.

So, he was a little surprised to come downstairs after his shower yesterday morning, tentatively ask how I was and get a cheery: “Great!”

What is it with mood swings? How can your outlook change so dramatically overnight? I’m not knocking it, I’m glad the dark cloud has blown over.

Is it a case of “my emotions are a rollercoaster, just gotta ride it” (apologies to Ronan Keating for butchering his lyrics), “help me if you can, I’m feeling down” , “don’t worry, be happy”, or “Don’t it always seem to go that you don’t know what you’ve got till it’s gone”?

Fingers crossed it’s not the last one.

Perhaps if I keep walking in the peaceful post-dawn, having Kate serenade me with Cloudbusting, I’ll push away the dark clouds and see the silver lining instead.

Or maybe I’m just tired. I might pop some iron and vitamin B tablets too, see if that helps.

I could do with one of those silver linings right now.

Does a musical soundtrack ever play in your head?