annanotbob2's Diaryland Diary

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Ay ay ay

Just realised I left my little film cannister of grass at Elder Daughter's place. Bit of a faux pas as SIL is very much against it so I've been sneaking a smoke behind his back of an evening. Ah well.

I feel a lot steadier this evening, after a day of self-care and a little love from my friends S&M. This is the first time for ages that I've had a bit of time in front of me that isn't pre-booked with wall-to-wall heavy shit of one kind or another. That was why I couldn't relax here before - it was all a bit, "OK, kid, you got three days to relax, starting from...NOW!"

This flat is the first time I've moved into somewhere to live alone. I don't think it's right; I don't think humans are meant to be solitary. I mean, I know there are advantages to being absolute ruler, sole decision-maker in all things, from the music (volume, number of repetitions etc), to the pictures on the wall and the contents of the fridge. But it's all bollocks really, don't you think? Surely we were designed to be social, to live in groups, to have someone who gets on our nerves parked on the sofa, and to find ways to rub along, to not be so fucking precious about what we want and don't want. In the meantime I'm loving being able to let my face relax without anyone asking me what's up.

I feel as if my heart has broken again about ED. I don't want to talk about it or write about it. Though I did talk a bit to SIL's mother tonight. She's heart-broken too. SIL, as has been noted, is both taciturn and undemonstrative and he's her only child. The arrival of my warm, chatty, open-hearted daughter into her family has been a blessing, as she makes clear in long, effusive messages on cards she sends ED. She thinks we should push for a second opinion, via the GP. We both think someone has to tell SIL that the neurologist said there was no possibility of ED ever recovering any of the mental capacities she has lost, because ED herself is unlikely to remember. Having considered it since the phone call, I'm not doing it. This is fucking huge - an enormous thing to tell someone about their life partner. It's not what he signed up for. I'm not doing it - she's his mother and I don't even like him. I shall speak to her (MIL) tomorrow.

Grateful for: my kids, the fuckers; the soporific effect of heat on cats; having nothing to do tomorrow that can't be put off till the day after; having a branch of the Co-op at the end of the road (cheap, ethically sourced, profit-sharing and open till 11pm); my lovely bed, into which I will now crawl.

Sweet dreams xx

10:10 p.m. - 14.01.12

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