annanotbob2's Diaryland Diary


Another fine mess

Seeing the CPN tomorrow so will have to summarise all this mood malarkey. Here's today's:

Bloke was at funeral till mid-afternoon, which I unconsciously interpreted as "unavailable", which in turn became the last straw, not having the security of access to him, him having my back etc. Yikes.

I want to say here that I find it very difficult to describe the down times in anything other than repetitive, not very interesting words. Each time IS different, but to convey it vividly requires a re-immersion in the moment which I'm just not prepared to do. It has been interesting to me though, to track my moods through the events of the day, noting which events have which kind of impact.

This morning had lots of certainty that I could not be the mother of a daughter whose life her sister describes as increasingly "Beckettian", what with losing her legs, her memory and her vision. (I know, fucking Beckett, still hanging around where he's not wanted, mocking any attempt at optimism). The pain was excruciating, physical, infinite.

But now, as I write, Freddie Mercury at Live Aid comes on the telly behind me, and my heart soars. Emotionally labile, I think is the term.

So, this morning was all pacing about, weeping, that kind of thing. There was a brief interlude of feeling blessed, when the post brought a CD made for me by Acorn, all the way from Houston, Tx, but I couldn't sustain it for long.

Then I had a text from Bloke saying all was well. I called him, had a brief chat, he said he'd be over in a bit, AND ALMOST AT ONCE, the despair lifted and I set about doing things. Like:

  • planning and taking my pic for the day, "Something I wrote"

    which led to me doing some of the tasks listed, viz

  • sweeping up the leaves, very contented as I filled the third big sack of them, anticipating the glorious leaf-mould to come in a year or so's time, delighted that light is beginning to return as the canopy gradually falls apart
  • Re-potting Julia's rose
  • and some viola's

    At which point Bloke arrived in funeral garb, much relieved to be out the other side of that ordeal. His dad had been fine, present and glad to be so, to say goodbye to his sister. Now that I was OK, Bloke could go home and crash out, so I:

  • went and bought some bin bags and a few cyclamen to cheer the place up

  • wrote weatherproof labels for all my perennials and stuck them in the pots, now, when there's still enough leaf left to identify them, so I won't throw them away in spring before they've started to re-emerge. Go me - very proud of this.
  • cooked another healthy dinner, mainly vegetables
  • did a load of washing
  • got this shot of the three-legged cat, which has been laying low all summer and has now returned to rule the roost out back:

  • Had my after dinner spliff and watched the final of The Great British Bake Off (my guy won) before realising I was almost out of baccy, leading to
  • a stupid hour or so trying to talk myself into giving up smoking before
  • going down the road and getting some. I talk myself into being scared of going down there at night, due to prevalence of drunken homeless men, who ebb and flow from the hostel on the next corner, but it's bollocks. I am quite old and therefore invisible to the naked eye. Plus, it's just turned 1 am and I haven't had to open the new pack yet.

    At various points I spoke to all three of my kids and to the bloke downstairs (about the smell of my morning coffee wafting down to him so that he has now bought a stove-top espresso pot of his own, and about begonias). My niece invited me by text to visit her and Baby next week, which I accepted with pleasure.

    So, give that a mark out of ten.

    Grateful for: finding some peace, somehow; a garden to potter in; living here, in this flat, on this street; love; acupuncture tomorrow

    Sweet dreams xx

    10:50 p.m. - 16.10.12


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