annanotbob2's Diaryland Diary


Day 35

Although they're only going up one at a time, each day when I write the number down it seems astonishingly larger than the day before. 35 days is five weeks - five weeks since I decided to withdraw from the world, not quite self-isolating, but five weeks since I was in a room with anyone other than Bloke, ffs.

It's interesting how you respond differently to people's habits according to how you feel about them rather than the habits causing the feelings. If you are fond of someone you don't get annoyed in the same way. Like if you had spent three years picking up plastic from the beach and plastic bottles from everywhere, campaigning against single use plastic in general, but most especially plastic bottles, you'd have to be quite fond of your partner not to be fucking pissed off that they still insisted on only drinking bottled water because they 'don't like the taste' of tap water. Like a spoiled fucking bastard, like something else is going to change things, other than every individual making better choices, choosing the planet over the taste of water, especially when you add pomegranate juice every time you drink it so you can't taste the fucking water - the juice, having been flown across the world, comes in a plastic bottle as well, of course, so we're putting at least ten plastic bottles a week into the recycling (which probably doesn't get recycled), which is 520 bottles a year just from one bloke who is too precious to drink the perfectly clean water out of the fucking tap. Also, he puts the empty water bottles on the counter with the washing up, instead of into the recycling, because things have to be clean to go in the recycling, but it's only had fucking water in it, how much cleaner can it get?

Sigh. Better out than in.

These came in the post today, from different people, only one of which I know:


The badge is enamel and was a gift from my writing pal, J. Lovely. Getting post is so cool, especially these days, especially handwritten.

Also yoga and again Shirley came to lie down with me for the final shavasana, or relaxation:991F2EED-B23C-4F7B-BCC6-D26292249571

I posted that pic on instagram, saying how great the class had been and the teacher replied: "Thanks Anna, so lovely to have you and Shirley there. Really moving to see her ‘tending’ to you during the session! 💚 " Aw, bless her.

Yoga is saving me from madness, I swear. That and meditation, although that's been a bit intense. I'm doing the grief series, a thirty day set, divided into three sets of ten, though I interrupted it to do the 'navigating change' set of ten as that seemed a bit important in these times. The first grief ten were about just sitting still, attending to your breath and letting feelings arise without shutting them down. OK. The next lot had a visualisation that I could not fucking do. There was a little video for people who had trouble - it advised thinking of a place you liked to go, and visualising it - can you do that? Yes, there you go, job done. Now visualise a shaft of golden sunlight, pouring onto your head and filling your body from the toes upwards with golden warmth and space, softening the tension as it gradually fills your whole body. Slowly, it's going to take about seven minutes. I can't do that. It sounds fucking great, but I see nothing. Sometimes yoga guy asks us to imagine a white light rising up through our central meridian as we breathe in - I can't do that either. But I can conjure up real things -  faces, places, material things. Weird and annoying. But now for the last ten sessions we're visualising the person we have lost, resting in a place where they are happy and we breathe in to take away any discomfort they may have, and breathe out to give them ease, love, whatever we wish for them. Then we imagine another person who is also suffering the loss, and do the same for them. Well I can do this all day, I didn't get distracted once, tears pouring down my face for my darling daughters, one gone, one bereaved. It's good though. It may not sound good but I know it is.

Tomorrow I have my first art therapy session via zoom - I may have to clean somewhere or at least tidy. Meh. I know, ungrateful. Free art therapy, still going during global pandemic, can;t be arsed to tidy a small amount of one room. Meh.

But today I am grateful for: being alive; being healthy; for not having come up against the virus at close quarters so far; for having a little dog to love; for having a blog to moan on.

Keep safe, hugs xxx

12:14 a.m. - 16.04.20


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Day 40 - 20.04.20
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