annanotbob2's Diaryland Diary

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Four

12/4/24
1. There’s been the suggestion of a school reunion, this being the year we all turn 70. I was quite excited, being inherently nosy – people go off in all kind of unexpected directions, don’t they? You think you’re all grown at 18 but you aren’t at all. Then I remembered an incident from about 30 years ago when I spotted a bloke I’d been at school with but hadn’t seen since. I crossed the road to speak to him but he held his hand up and said, “No! I don’t have to listen to the likes of you ever again!” And when I got over the shock I realised that what I’d thought was just larking about had actually been tormenting him and a few other people. I’d been a bully and hadn’t considered it for a minute. Which took the wind out of my sails a bit, but I’ll still go and take what comes.
2. I told my therapist about the tenderness thing I mentioned a few posts ago – that I heard an interview where the subject had had a pretty neglectful childhood and was asked where he’d found some tenderness, as if that was always a part of a person’s childhood. She’s set my homework of giving myself portions of tenderness for regular, daily, measured times – 40 minutes on the timer – a really soft fleecy blanket, lovely music and wherever and however I can feel really safe. The dog immediately wants to be part of this and leans her back against me as we both lie in bed listening to a shamanic drumming meditation. I’ve ordered a really soft cuddly toy to cuddle.
3. A woman I was at Uni with in the 80s came down the other day. She lives up north so I’ve only seen her once since, 2019, in the gap between Sammie dying and lockdown when we just fell into it as if we just saw each other yesterday. Same again this time – I’d managed to get a bit agitated,, about whether it would be OK, but of course it was, we just started chatting at once, mooched around town, down to the beach, had a bit of lunch sat outside, the time flew by. She had a diabolically difficult pandemic but is now in a very good place. Coolio.
4. I’ve had to postpone my mega birthday bash – the planned camping weekend in the New Forest, with bands and games and lots of good shit. Daughter told me she’s too tired to organise it, which she is, and it didn’t take me long to realise that I couldn’t either. We both have this deep-seated exhaustion – she has it worse than me, but I can’t think clearly or quickly or old anything in my memory or make good decisions. Maybe next year. It feels sad – I was really looking forward to it – I’d invited everyone – it was going to be a good, multi-generational mix of people in a beautiful spot on the edge of the forest, near lovely sandy beaches. But I don’t have it in me, so there it is. I wish our weather was more predictable – I’d love to have a picnic instead – the trouble is I have no spare cash – my car’s in for its MOT next week and if it fails I’m fucked. So I can’t book anywhere indoors. Something will happen.

12:34 a.m. - 13.04.24

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