annanotbob2's Diaryland Diary



Ach, I drifted off somewhere this evening, sitting in front of the fire and have just come to my senses and realised the fucking place is full of smoke. I'd built the fire too far forward in the grate so only some of the smoke was sucked up the chimney. Jesus. I've had to open all the windows and the back door, and where's the wind when you need it?

Today there have been two lots of 'stuff'.

1)I realise that it's a week since my friend X called, saying they'd cut themselves and could I take them to A&E. Cut as in self harmed. "There's a lot of blood." I said yes, of course, but then my inner sense gave me a flash forward of sitting for hours in a waiting room with X, bleeding and emotional in some yet to be discovered fashion, missing out on my planned moment of pleasure - I was at the allotment when I took the call, with S and M, cooking in the open air for my photo-a-day topic, lunch.

So I said no, I couldn't take X to hospital and told them to call an ambulance, which they said they would, and I did mostly reclaim the peace of the afternoon, with just flashes of anxiety.

I'm good with my decision. I am available, at a moment's notice, to quite a few people, people who avail themselves of this availability. This friendship is not going to be like that. X is a frequent flyer with A&E, but I am not and I won't. Enough. I can't do it, not now, and I won't.

So. Time has passed. I've had no news and I realise it's been a week now. I texted X the next day and emailed a few days later. No reply so far. I can't phone, I just can't. There are many and various easily imagined reasons for the lack of reply, and today they have all run in a loop through my mind, giving me the heebie-jeebies and doing nothing for my general joie de vivre. So that's one lot of stuff. The fear that X is dead. Which I am sure is not the case, but only 99% sure.

2) Then Son calls, reminding me that he said he'd represent me at my forthcoming benefits tribunal and could I dig out the paperwork and send it to him. Yes, fine, no worries. Until I remembered what the paperwork is - a list of how my mental health impacts on my life and vice versa. Not pretty reading. He doesn't know the half of it and I don't see why he should. So I called him back and told him I'd sort something else out, but he wasn't having it. In the end I agreed that I won't walk into the tribunal alone (the difference in success rates with/without legal representation is both disgraceful and scary) and will come to him as a last resort. He did work experience at tribunals as part of his recent degree and won the ones he argued. And that was the other big deal today - having a flashback to the worst of times, realising how close to that I am right now, how much energy I'm expending keeping myself the right side of the line, mostly. How I don't want my boy having all that in his head.

Good things today were: my session with R, going up the allotment in the rain, walking about in my big coat and wellies, finding that the beans are STILL producing tender young pods. Remembering a reasonably healthy meal I could make with what I had (jacket potato with tuna and parsley mayonnaise, a big pile of today's beans and tomato salad) and having the energy to actually make it. A message from my dear friend D who's in town and wants to meet up tomorrow, preferably on the beach. Lots of positive comments about my pic for today (red)

Although Bloke's mate wrote "Yes, and some of us are straight. Let's not forget that, poppet!" POPPET???? Wanker. I deleted it. He can fuck off.

Grateful for: the delete button; CBT which has enabled me to unpick all the stuff about X; the room being clear of smoke again; blog done by 00.30 - early night; a great book - 'My Policeman' by Bethan Roberts.

Nighty night xxx

11:11 p.m. - 09.10.12


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