annanotbob2's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- We'll go no more a-moaning Aw fuck - I just though I was being dead clever by signing up to the comments Stepfie uses and managed to delete all the comments I've ever had. Man. Still, I managed to do something, so that's a plus. Right down in the pit, making myself write as I hate it when I flick back through the entries and there are big gaps that I know are the bad days, but with nothing about how they are or how I come out the other side. I miss my friend K. I've only contacted him briefly since - ach well, I don't want to spread his business over the internet, even in this quite anonymous corner, but I thought he was going to die because he is in an ongoing argument with himself about whether his life is worth living with all the pain of his mental illness and I thought I couldn't take it (when he vanished for two weeks after needing an ambulance), what with the ongoing horror of ED and sometimes YD and what have you. I miss him, but I'm scared of where being fond of him takes me. I remember the guy introducing the first session of the group K and I both attended, writing on the board in big letters: IT IS MY DUTY TO LOOK AFTER MY SELF. And I don't know about yours, but my self has enough to contend with without getting even closer to someone who veers in and out of suicidal. My self is not very well actually. Nowhere near as unwell as poor, dear K, but too unwell to not be paying attention, making evaluations and sometimes hard decisions. It all keeps rolling around in my head. Contact him. Stay away. When I think it through, I know I have to stay away. I can't make him better and I can't bear his pain. But I miss him so much. Ah well. Maybe when I'm stronger. I'm not doing great at looking after that self of mine. I want to have a proper duvet day but the flat is a big mess and I can't seem to make any headway in cleaning it. Hm. I detect a hint of the 'yes, but' syndrome, in which a person chooses to remain in their state of misery by coming up with a reason why nothing will get them out of it. Exercise used to help but now I have no energy. Art class... and so on. But wait... Good. YD is down staying at her mate's. I had lunch with her today and she's pretty chipper. I've just emailed and asked if she'll come with me to the first session of that art club. I know I'll be OK once I've been once, but I haven't managed to get there since the end of my last art class, back in the fucking spring. Time to ask for help. If she's already booked up I'll have to try and persuade TinyM, which will be more of a mission. Grateful for: a blog in which to think things through; furry slippers; mellow jazz drifting up from Him Downstairs; Obama (man, whew or what?); never nothing to be grateful for. And tomorrow is another fucking day. Sweet dreams xx 11:29 p.m. - 07.11.12 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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