Sometimes I cant sleep after a client and sometimes I cant stop sleeping. Theres no middle ground with this work, just extremes of exhaustion and weird alertness where my brain is spinning but my body feels like its somewhere else.
My mum still doesnt know what I do. I tell her Im doing freelance marketing which sounds just professional enough to slide past her questions. I wonder sometimes if she suspects but doesnt want to ask. The silence between us feels thick with unspoken things.
Last night was one of those jobs where everything felt fine but something was slightly off. Nice guy, mid40s, seemed lonely more than anything. We talked more than we fucked which happens more often than people think. Hes got kids my age and a job in some corporate thing in Leeds. I kept thinking about how different our lives are while hes touching me.
Mental health stuff is harder some weeks. The constant performance of being exactly who someone wants takes a toll even when youre good at it. Im good at it. But good doesnt mean it doesnt cost something.
I should probably sleep soon. Or drink tea. Or both. Who knows.