annanotbob2's Diaryland Diary


March 13th

I feel as if I may have passed the hump of being terrified. Today was awful - I'd agreed to get Daughter some organic chicken to make soup with as she's under doctor's orders to self-isolate due to having a high temperature. I managed to get myself into a total state about going to the supermarket - several panic attacks before even getting out of bed, so asked Bloke if he could do it as he was driving past Daughter's place anyway. He said yes and left, I cooked myself a great big fuck off breakfast - home made hash browns, bacon, tomatoes and poached eggs - doesn't sound that big written down - cleaned the kitchen and went back to bed where I fell asleep and didn't wake up till two.

Eventually dragged myself up and out, taking the dog down to walk on the pier:


where a) I sat on a bench and cried and cried - about Sam, the virus, the impossibility of living even more time waiting for something awful and to happen which I can't do anything about and b) I kept bumping into the most beautiful, quite old, black man with waist length dreadlocks. Shirley jumped all over him, which he was very gracious about, then a bit later he walked past where I was sitting, just after I'd stopped crying and had wiped my eyes. He smiled a big smile at me, gestured to the view and said something about the best things in life being free and I agreed and replied about 'even in shittown, moments of pure joy,' (ffs), and he wandered along. We kept passing each other after that and smiling but I always looked away quick as it was both lovely and a bit uncomfortable, then I set off for home and that was that but it cheered me up no end to have a big, gentle smile from a handsome man directed at me.

I also chatted to the piss-heads who are there at the same time every day, sitting on the same bench, swigging from cans, smoking spliffs and feeding the crows. There's one I always talk to - god knows why but now I do I always will, I expect. They're a right bloody shower - probably in their 40s or maybe just weathered - huddled into their parkas, passing the spliffs back and forth, giggling, but also with a lot of knowledge about the crows and other birds that gather on the pier.

What's cracked my mood though was this short meditation that someone posted on twitter:


and as soon as I'd watched it I just did a big breathe out and let it all go. I'm intending to get back to doing a short meditation every day before I get dressed. I had that as a part of my daily life for a good long time before I got Shirley, but it wasn't compatible at that time of day with a little puppy who needed to be taken out and I've let it slide. It was so helpful when Sam and my brother were both terminally ill - without even noticing, I was able to keep in the present where we were all alive rather than dwelling on the past when we were all healthy or projecting into the future when they would be dead.

It's my brother's anniversary on Sunday. I don't usually remember days of dying, but his was the Ides of March - the 15th - I taught Julius Caesar often enough to have spotted that, which has fixed it in my mind. I'm numb about it. Well, I am now, right this minute.

Today I am grateful for: coming out of that funk; feeling well, if knackered; having a nice note from my cousin R; sleeping so much; Son coming down tomorrow

Keep safe, you guys. xx


12:08 a.m. - 14.03.20


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