annanotbob2's Diaryland Diary


Today's Achievements

1. Driving through the Blackwall Tunnel under the Thames, alone, with no navigator, map or GPS, thereby cutting about my journey time from YD's to ED's by god knows how much, and only spending about half an hour of it in a blind panic about getting lost. Madness, but quite good.

2. Working out how to get YD and her wheelchair through anti-bike rails in the shortcut - take off the headrest and get her to lean forward with her head on her knees.

3. Not replying in anger to a supposed friend who is being very demanding and critical of me as a friend. She wants us to have a talk about the state of our relationship as I pissed her off immensely in some unspecified and genuinely unintentional manner over the summer. On the one hand I am reluctant to trot out ED as a kind of 'get out of jail free' card, but this summer I have a) been told my daughter was dying (probably wrongly) and b) been told she would soon have to go into residential care for the rest of her life, another false alarm. This friend has known ED for twenty years, knows who she was and who she could have become, but hasn't seen her for two years, two years in which she has lost almost everything. So I sent Friend the video, thinking she would understand this is a bit of a tough time and perhaps grant me a bit of a reprieve for acts of thoughtlessness - I am sure there was nothing worse, there was certainly nothing intended to hurt. So today I get an email that starts: "Thanks for the link, 'fraid I found that I didn't want to watch in the end." But she's going to phone me so we can clear up "the troubles between us". I've sat on this all day, with that sentence ringing round my head making me want to phone her up and shout FUCK YOU at her, "Aw, poor you, you didn't want to watch the nasty video, as opposed to me and ED who both went out searching for MS to come and fuck up our lives and then talk to you about it and make you feel sad."

I don't know - the trouble is my emotional responses are all over the place, I am not up to much these days as a friend to have a laugh with, and not everyone has it in them to support someone through this hideously elongated grieving process, so I haven't responded yet. My overwhelming desire though is to say FUCK YOU. Go on, opt out, opt right out. But we have been mates for a long time and I need all the friends I can get. So I have spewed it all out here in the hope that I can let it go, or at least stop the voice shouting FUCK YOU at her in my head all day.

I hate that the comments box keeps coming and going (haven't seen it for days but that doesn't mean you haven't - it may be full of comments I haven't seen), I hate that the stats counter shows loads more readers than I've had for ages but the 'details' bit is still stuck on Sept 14th, so I have no idea who you are or where you're from or if it's just lapintorade passing through here twenty times a day en route for Stepfie. I may have come to the end of my diaryland days but I haven't as I haven't the headspace to learn a new site.

Now I'm going to have a quick smoke leaning out the window then kick that fat ginger cat off my airbed and try and chill the fuck out and get some sleep.

Laters xx

12:12 a.m. - 08.10.13


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