annanotbob2's Diaryland Diary
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Tired
I haven't been writing because I'm keeping it all tightly held together, but that's no good really, is it? I mean, OK in the short term, but not sustainable.
My brother's just been diagnosed with Motor Neurone Disease. It's called something else in the US, but it's the one they did the ice bucket challenge for. That's why I'm all buttoned up. Too much. My little bro. He doesn't have a clear, specific diagnosis yet, but he's been having tests since the summer to see why his speech is fucked up and they've ruled out all other suspects. I haven't dared to research the varieties to see what the range of possibilities covers. Today he's struggling to articulate his thoughts but his thoughts are still clear and the rest of his body is good - still going to work, still going dancing, riding his bike. That's where we can rest our minds now. Today. Tomorrow will come soon enough.
I took my boots to Friday art group and drew them. I wish I'd cropped the picture before adding it, but too late now.
I want to feel a bit chirpier about Christmas than I can actually manage. It's just the last fucking straw. Bloke is only helpful at following instructions so I have to think of everything. That's not my specialist subject these days. But I am still walking - haven't missed a day of the 6000 steps since mid-September. It's good - not magic - can't make me a happy energetic bunny with all this stuff going on, but I'm still standing. Just.
Today's walk pic
:
Getting out into that every day can't hurt, can it?
And today is my first anniversary of stopping smoking. A whole year. Fucking hell, eh. After fifty years of the fags. Not even tempted any more. Fat as a pig, but there you go.
I am grateful for:
1. Not having to fight temptation over the fags;
2.David Bowie, still keeping me company as I walk through what feels like the shadow of the valley of bloody death;
3.Finding a skip containing loads of wood outside one of the cafes on the beach and being invited to help myself - sorted for firewood for a while, though you can hardly get through the front door;
4. Bed
5.Roof
Laters xxx
1:20 a.m. - 18.12.16
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