annanotbob2's Diaryland Diary
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Friday
Late again, but going for it anyway, as I feel I'm going to forget everything about this time if I don't get it down. It's a hard time, but I put a lot of effort into making it as painless as possible.
I did OK for most of today - Jesus, as I wrote those words I remembered I arrived at Friday art group to discover there was a pastels workshop being taught and the room was already heaving with people. They made a space for me but I lasted less than five minutes - the teacher really really wants us to improve our art, but I want more to just sit in peace and dabble about. She was giving too many instructions and being insistent on things like which kind of paper and in no time at all my brain had gone into meltdown and was singing lalalalalalalalalalanotlisteningshutup. I haven't unravelled like that since the last time - quite possibly yesterday, but I think not - so I opted out, gathered my stuff and went into the room next door to paint more rooftops, this time using red, yellow and something sienna to mix colours:
I'm using acrylics for their strong colours but I still like the black lines and am too impatient to wait for the paint to dry properly enough for the pen not to clog up, so I used charcoal and just kept snapping the end off when it wouldn't leave a mark. This took less than an hour because I go too quickly and dementedly, but I can't seem to slow down.
I'd put Shirley in the car, parked in the shade, with the plan of walking into the city centre after art, to get some CBD oil capsules. E, a really nice, very young trans man asked if I'd like to walk in with him, so we did that and it was good. He's been having a hard time in the same way as me - over-reaching, taking on too much, keeling over, cutting activities back down. He also has a dog to walk no matter what else. I like him a lot and feel proud that he likes me too and trusts me to chat shit to as we walked.
There and back to the car, three miles, but the sun was bright and there was no wind so I had to go to the beach where I found my first red seaglass:
It's a bit off a bike brake light, barely smoothed, but with no sharp edges at all so I kept it, cos red, man! Rare round here.
While on the beach I phoned the care home and was told Elder Daughter has another bad chest infection and was well pissed off, so me and my knackered little dog headed over there and it's just shit, total fucking shit.
She's on antibiotics again and she is pissed off, with a fully down-turned mouth, but she can't tell me which aspects of her untenable fucking situation are to blame and I cannot possibly run a few suggestions past her in case I set her off about something that she wasn't considering. When she could last speak she wasn't very aware of anything so I truly don't know what she might be thinking. I have no idea. Does she know she's likely to die soon? Does she wish it would fucking hurry up? Was she pissed off that I didn't visit her yesterday or is she sick of the sight of me or does she have no idea who I am? And a million other unanswerable questions. I couldn't bear it, I got all choked up and just sat there, fannying about with my phone for two hours then came home.
I can't not visit but a lot of the time I can't speak or read to her or anything and just sit mutely trying not to cry as her hearing is as sharp as ever and I don't want her fretting about me.
I am grateful for: living by the sea; living near the city; having a little dog, who did good walking on the lead through all the busy city centre; a warm bed to sleep in; a blog to moan in
Have a good weekend, people
1:19 a.m. - 16.02.19
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