annanotbob2's Diaryland Diary

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Enough

1. Yesterday, after feeling I was  doing well the day before, started badly and went downhill from there. I slept through my alarm and didn't have time to take Shirley for a walk before rushing off to a meeting with A, who is advising me on my benefits tribunal and coming with me. Except when I got there I found I'd got the time wrong and I was too early and the recovery centre didn't even open for another half hour so I had to mooch about in the rain, feeling guilty.


2. The session went OK, but at the end we discovered we'd both written down different days and times for the actual tribunal. I got a text from Bloke saying he was home so I asked him to look on my letter from the tribunal people and it was indeed me who was wrong. I could have sworn it was 31/1/18, but no, it's 30/1/18 and so instead of having tickets to take ED out the night before, to take my mind off it, I have tickets for the same day, when I'll be knackered after all the tension. I was v distressed to have looked at the letter several times and misread it repeatedly. What else have I misread?


3. I then had a session with C, my new key worker, who seems nice enough, though to be honest I just blurted a load of stuff at her. Then, when I got home, I had a call from the service through which I might be able to get CBT-I  - for insomnia and sleeping pill addiction. Another fucking chat about my mental state with a woman I don't know. I do know C and A a bit, but barely. More than three hours of that, one way and another.


4. Finally managed to take Shirley for a walk in the rain before the dog trainer arrived and talked intently for an hour. She said basically Shirley is bored and needs mental challenges, such as hiding food in various ways so she has to hunt it out, or training to do stuff. Also, each time she snaps, just walk away, to the other side of the stair-gate. I have to say, I followed her advice and Shirley has been great today, but


5. After she left I started getting chest pains - not sharp scary ones, but dull persevering ones. I finally looked it up online and was told always get chest pains checked out by medics so I called 111 (free NHS speak to a medic number)  and was involved with that, being passed on to another person a bit more qualified, for almost three hours in the end, in the middle of which I suddenly started to have diarrhoea, which added to the pleasure for all concerned.  The final conversation, with a doctor, concluded that this was stress induced and I went to bed. Today I haven't even got dressed, let alone left the house.No pains, no shits, just knackered.


6. Today I made Shirley a thing to hide food in, out of a tea towel, by sewing it up into lots of pockets. I did it far too quickly and badly to take a photo of but when I feel better I shall make a decent one, maybe even a few to sell as the ones on amazon were fifty fucking quid.

11:39 p.m. - 24.01.18

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