Yesterday's news

And so it came to pass that the week rolled along, as weeks tend to do.

In the time that’s passed since my last, panicky post here, I’ve pretty much been permanently riding an emotional escalator. On the work front, I’ve considered giving up writing professionally (publicly?) completely, accepted three major national broadsheet feature commissions, sacked my agent, been sacked by my agent, sorted things out with my agent…and written lots of stuff for Venue and Folio (magazines which I now respect and appreciate more than ever before).

I’ve been out with The Bears, scoffed a scuzz, seen Simply Red at the 02 Arena and enjoyed a very pleasant afternoon with Medad (who knows nothing about the whole sorry drama that started last Saturday and ain’t over yet) (and, I hope, never will). I’ve had several difficult phone calls with my mum and my sister, and started my apology campaign by dispatching a huge bouquet to Liverpool. And I’ve had an incredible amount of honest, proper, genuine support and comments from very dear friends, without whom I’d have probably turned to the sherry for solace.

So how am I doing inside? Frustrated, sad, angry; confused, enraged, calm. One part of me wishes I’d never written ‘it’ in the first place; the other part of me – larger, I think? –wishes I could be understood for doing what I did. I wish just one family member – niece, mum’s husband? – would pop in here every so often; then perhaps they would understand what my job – indeed, my compulsion to write – is actually all about. I understand and accept their hurt and feelings of betrayal. The sad thing is, I thought that perhaps they might understand me a little bit better as a result of ‘it’. Okay, my words ended up a bit twisted on the published page (a fact that I know they’ll never, ever accept or even want to hear anything more about), but I’m still me, and they’re still them, and I really love them, and none of that has changed. Except it has - and I don’t know when – or if – they’ll ever change back to where we were before last Saturday.

Last year (Sunday November 18^th, according to my friendly archivist) I published a post here labeled ‘This Functional Family’. It’s just one of many, many posts – and indeed, very publicly published features – that totally sum up what my family mean to me. It’s a great shame that the only one we’ll probably ever discuss is the one that I’ll now forever refer to as ‘it’, and feel nothing but horribleness when I even think about what happened as a result.