annanotbob2's Diaryland Diary
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Day 19
Aw fuck, I just deleted the entry I'd written by mistake - since the last upgrade I keep closing tabs on my laptop when I mean to open them. Bah.
I was halfway through a list of things I do for self care, in response to a prompt, as today was mostly quite hard. But I do feel more or less OK now, after walking in the wind, to the end of the pier
and back and having a big bowl of soupy stew, that was mostly veg with a bit of chorizo and spices - real food, to nourish your body and your soul. With some cheese on toast.
Man, though. I hate wishing my life away so I won't, but the closer we get to Christmas the more I want to curl up and die. Well, not die, but sleep, though I don't really want to do that either. I just want to be left in peace to live through this time as best I can, without exhortations to be happy and merry.
When I got to the gym for the circuits this afternoon, the teacher was waiting in reception and said that someone or other was doing a carol service with some kids or other and they needed an audience so she'd volunteered us for five minutes at the start. I said OK, because I always do say OK, but as soon as the kids started singing - it wasn't Away in a Manger but it might as well have been - I was overwhelmed with loss and grief and the unbearable nature of everything and had to run away and weep in a corner. But I could still hear it, so I went off into the main hall, which our class had been moved to - a vast space with plastic tables and chairs round the edges, with abandoned lunch plates and clutter, a giant bouncy castle, and just a few people with small children, in different parts of the huge place. Behind a screen and some netting were a few badminton courts. It all felt desolate, like something from an indie film, probably in black and white. The air to the bouncy castle cast a loud white noise over everything. Terrible. I paced up and down, round and round, crying bitter tears, not caring about the fucking people staring at me like they'd never seen a fat old woman in shorts, pacing up and down, crying snottily. The bloody teacher was bloody ages then had us doing circuits which included hitting a shuttlecock over the net, or trying to, and shooting basketball hoops (is that what you call it?) or trying to. And other stuff. Squats, step-ups - I'm getting the lingo. By the end of it I'd forgotten I was upset and cross with her.
Tomorrow Bloke has a job somewhere all day so I can stay home. The sofabed will be delivered late afternoon (she said with confidence), so I can get the little room sorted out, I hope. Though I still don't have a crew of strong young people to help me get that cupboard up there...
Today I am grateful for: a long sleep last night, 12 hours; a good session of art therapy, loving the use of metaphors; chocolate biscuits that I'd forgotten that I shall have when I sign off here; kind friends; a warm bed
Night night xx
12:31 a.m. - 20.12.19
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------