annanotbob2's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Language Second stop-smoking session today - most inspiring. We talked it round, looking at possible dodgy moments and the health trainer made lots of notes which she gave to me at the end. The plan for writing is to try using a toothpick at those points when I'd usually have a fag, which I am in fact doing tonight and so far so good. If that fails and I don't manage to blog then after a couple of days I'm going to find some hypnotherapy. I did that when I gave up years ago, during uni when I had two 8,000 word essays and two 4,000 word ones to write over the summer, as a large part of the final assessment, and it worked perfectly - I even got firsts for one of each type of essay. I'm going to stop again on Wednesday - or Tuesday night. Daughter is no longer in danger so I can manage a bit of short term, purposeful stress. She's not home yet though - no transport. SIL could have taken another day off and fetched her in the van but they said no worries, she's entitled to be returned in an ambulance, don't take more time off work etc. They might have wanted to do a handover along the chain of medical people - from hospital to paramedics to care home - but whatever they wanted, there wasn't an ambulance free all day in the end. It's the fucking cuts, innit. The NHS is still utterly fab at the point of crisis because that's the priority, they will save your life, but before and after you're going to have to wait and take your turn. Daughter is fine apparently, quite settled, so it's only an annoyance, but it is a fucking annoyance. I did have a fag then, after that para, while I wondered whether to go into a rant about the bastard government selling off the health service but I've probably already covered that. So onwards to art for nutters. Which reminds me - I read a good piece about how when the language used to refer to disability is then used metaphorically to mean crap, disabled people are diminished and feel like shit. It's an interesting point, which I read variously, with my different hats on. I mean, I am a writer, an English teacher and currently a "service user", which is the latest term for those receiving treatment from psychiatric services, also known as mental, crazy, insane, bonkers, nutjobs etc etc. While I don't like to think of being referred to in this way, I do use these words, both to describe myself and metaphorically for situations/actions/opinions which make no sense to me. I can't see that there's ever going to be a change in that metaphorical use, because it fits. I think the main issue is with public perception - abusive terms for racial groups and homosexuals are not heard so much these days because there isn't the same level of ignorance, fear and prejudice as latterly (I do know it's not gone altogether). But if you look at the issue of low intelligence, there have been many changes of the official language to describe this, from retard through god knows what else to the current 'special needs', which also includes hyper-intelligent kids and all sorts of others whose needs are indeed a bit different to the average kid, but that in itself has come to be a term of abuse. "Special needs, special needs, special needs!" now gets chanted at poor bastards who used to be called cretins so it's not the language that needs to change, but the attitude. I really hate the way people sneer at those they deem stupid, as if it's not bad enough having a brain that can't remember much, or hold a few linked ideas together to draw a conclusion, without being mocked by those who think because their brains work better, it makes them better people. But I reserve the right to call my group art for nutters, alongside black people's reclamation and right to the term nigger and gay people's of the word queer. And it was good today. We drew autumn leaves and coloured them with oil and/or chalk pastel crayons, whilst listening to some classical music from film soundtracks and chatting inconsequentially. The male CPN who'd been there all those years ago was taking the group today which was fab - he's a really sound bloke and has endless amounts of easy conversation openers about music, films etc. Bloody hell, it's nearly 1.30. Bed. Grateful for: feeling excited about freeing myself from the evil weed again soon; having a brain that is functioning OK, albeit not at a very high level; living by the sea; missing all the showers today; having a roast chicken to make meals with all week - I made a pie today, who knows what tomorrow may bring... xxx 1:30 a.m. - 11.11.14 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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