annanotbob2's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Quick fifteen minutes I am so fucking tired I must have an early night but I am determined to write more often so I set the timer for fifteen minutes and we'll see what we get. I'm so enjoying reading through the old entries I can't believe I'm not keeping going so I will try harder. This really pleased me this morning, from summer 2008 - I don't know why I liked it so much, but I did: "Good things today: Walking Millie past the pub when another dog barked at her and made the sound, 'Woof!' A bloke having a fag outside the pub nearly burst with excitement, 'Did you hear that? That dog actually said woof! He did, he actually said woof!' His excitement was pretty contagious - it still makes me grin to think of his silly, happy face. Still on the walk I kept seeing girls in their night clothes. Young girls, pre-teen (just about), in jim-jams, slippers and dressing gowns. In the end I had to ask - their school had had a pyjama day, I was told, as if I was an utter simpleton for having to ask. Cool, I said, reducing my standing to below zero. Still cool. I can be patronised by kids without a dent in my vavavoom. Even when I'm not being paid for it." It has been hard since coming home - I've been very sad and have mainly stayed in my bed crying bucket-loads of sadness and sorrow for my girl and her son and for me, her mother. But it seems to have passed a bit and today has been better. I think you have to feel it, in the end. Trying to remain cheerful makes it worse. I made a list and plans and mainly stuck to them - when I got ill I drifted away from all the things that had been keeping me steady and I feel the lack of them more and more. So. I've told both the recovery centres that I can't do the writing groups, probably for ages. I have to get myself to a point where I can manage my self-care things before doing that sort of thing. They were both fine about it. This morning I googled 'restorative yoga near me' and found a yoga centre I'd never heard of, just near the city recovery centre, with all kinds of different classes. I'd missed restorative at 9.15 this morning but went along to 'gentle yoga' at lunch time. Gentle, my arse. It was only gentle in comparison to vinyasa, or hot yoga or fierce grace - those kind of things - it was too much for me today, but I did some of it and felt miles better after so I plan to do restorative there twice a week starting Sunday - I have a meeting with my key worker that clashes this Weds. It's not as good as my usual at the Buddhist Centre - it feels a bit like keep fit, it's lacking the spiritual side that I feel I ignore until it's not there, at which point I miss it. But this will do to keep me loose until I'm less enervated and exhausted by this fucking pleurisy. I met someone at Glasto who told me it took her a year to get over pneumonia - a year!!! Fuck that! So this week I will do art groups, yoga, a bit of gentle dog walking and visiting my girl. Though I also have key worker, a dental appointment and tickets for me and YD to see a Shakespeare play at the open air theatre. It's the Globe company - top notch, but it's audience choice which play they perform, out of Pericles (don't know it), A Comedy of Errors (shite), or Twelfth Night (yay!). They're all about voyages and identity and other stuff, the woman on the phone said - yeah yeah - I hope it's not Comedy of Errors - I've seen that twice and once would have been enough. Time's up. I am grateful for: J getting us tickets to do a beach-litter weaving workshop (all will be explained in time), feeling better than I have for a while; lots of salad for tea, including roasted peppers - food of the gods; finding that yoga studio; an early night. Sleep tight dear friends. I hope you are all as well as you can possibly be. 10:57 p.m. - 08.07.19 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
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