annanotbob2's Diaryland Diary

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Day 28

Woke up to a parcel in the post - this little creature made for me by S, a friend I made on Twitter of all places. It started when I was looking for a poem to read at my brother's funeral and someone I follow retweeted one she'd posted that seemed spot on. I tweeted her asking who'd written it so I could give credit, she said it was one of hers, we followed each other, I read something else in the end (Fear no more the heat of the sun/Nor the furious winter’s rages;/Thou thy worldly task hast done,/Home art gone, and ta’en thy wages:/Golden lads and girls all must,/As chimney-sweepers, come to dust). And over the two years we've somehow become friends and she made me this little 'companion' and I was thrilled.

I did get onto the writing workshop this morning and I'm going to describe it for future ref. She got us to draw a big spiral on a sheet of A4 (see below), to mark 'start' on the outside end,  'end' on the middle bit, and put circles at intervals all round. Then she asked us to put the words 'I am...' at the start and finish. She gave us two minutes to finish off those statements - I had no idea what she was on about so I put 'I'm OK' in both places and waited for the next instructions which were to start writing, to not try and be neat, but each time we came to a blob on the line we were to change, to shift what we were saying in some way. Thirteen minutes. I'm going to write mine up here using bullet points for the blobs (she called them pearls, the pearl necklace, but that has another meaning and I don't like it here for that). I'm leaving it as it was, not trying to put proper punctuation in or change anything

• I am OK, probably, though I don't feel it, I'm confused, what am I doing?


• I am OK. I sit at the table, I turn up to the task, to be myself, away from the fear. I keep to myself, have done for 28 days.


• I've been scared before, was it worse then? We knew then that death was coming - is this uncertainty better or worse?


• I think of my parents in the war, losing friends and colleagues - how did they get used to it - did they ever? It went on for so long, WWII, no choice.


• I found that with Sam - you can't live at extreme emotion for ever, you settle, you live with a terminal diagnosis, on you go


• Distractions - worked then, work now. Can't change things so ignore them, walk on the beach, watch a show


• We do things together apart now - One Man Two Guvnors - all laughing in our houses, shared experience - this time we're all scared, we all want to laugh, a good, free belly laugh


• I have a picture of Sam laughing, sat on the grass at the top of the hill - how did we get there, why did she get out of the wheelchair, how did we get her back


• Questions and more questions, some best left unasked, unanswered. We don't need to know, we don't need those words and images in our heads


• My head is filling with nature, the sounds of the birds, the cleaner air, dolphins in the canals of Venice


• If I go to Venice I will walk there, taking a year, sleeping in a tent, cadging food, writing my way


• I will always dream and walk and write


• Writing will always heal; dreams don't need to come true


• Dreaming is the thing


• I am OK

I felt tons better for having done it, then I couldn't find the link to the restorative yoga class and really couldn't find it and got incredibly aggravated and did a horrid big scream of frustration and banging on the wall, then remembered where it was, got onto zoom and the teacher had had tech problems so had only just started, calm, calm, lovely yoga, final relaxation, bliss, next door's cat came to the window and Shirley went fucking mental, angry barking right by my ear...  So that was all a bit crap - I came out better than I started but not much, not enough.

I took the masks, vitamins and some turmeric paste round to Daughter's and stood on the pavement chatting for a bit. Terrible but good to see them. Grandson was doing the washing up in his pants - he gave permission for me to post this picture:

He's really OK - I asked him, how come you're so bloody chirpy? And he pointed out how many of his teenage years had been spent in isolation in that village, with no other kids, in his room on the computer - this now is a piece of piss.

Daughter spoke to her doctor today who asked her loads of questions and told her that the mild version of the virus, which she seems to have had, can take forever to completely shake off and that it's OK to be tired and need to rest a lot. She's passed the point where it can go right downhill. Thank fuck for that - I was so scared, sitting on that fear.

Good night. I hope you're all well - I think of you during the day, wonder how you're coping. I used to hate that word, how often it was applied to my life - I was sick of coping, wanted to live. We're all coping now, for better or for worse.

11:38 p.m. - 08.04.20

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