annanotbob2's Diaryland Diary


Day 69

Today was possibly doomed from the moment I looked at the facebook memories page and found this from 2017:

Today is all about the visitors and their goodbyes. I think I let everyone know who would have wanted to say goodbye but if I didn't and you do then St Barnabas, Sammie, call me xx

There's something about that time when we all knew she was dying and then she didn't, that gets me right in the terrible place. How could she actually go and do it this time? I want more, I fucking want more. I want her to have more, I want Grandson, her son to have more.

I didn't have it in me to fight it today. I stayed in bed till about 1, then Daughter came to sit in the garden, at a distance and I pulled myself together a bit. There was no Tuesday art group because J the teacher slipped up while watering her garden last night and broke her ankle which she has to keep raised for two weeks, so no sitting at her kitchen table painting. Poor J, as if this shit isn't bad enough without a broken ankle and no painting, but, being a self-centred depressive it made me feel mega-anxious and hopeless and scared for myself - the random meanness of fate, coming for you in your own garden, when you're doing something as innocuous as watering your plants.

I sat in my garden for a bit, and washed a few dishes. I tried to do the list of 25 things which I love - I did do it, but I couldn't actually feel any love for any of them and doing it made me even more depressed., because I couldn't connect with it. Daughter thinks I should go to co-dependents anonymous. I'm too tired to even think about it. I looked at their home page and yeah, OK, but I don't know if I buy the 12 step programme as the solution.

This evening I've watched rubbish on TV for ages - White Lines on Netflix- horrible people - who cares? I did manage my headspace meditation and a free 20 minute live one from the natural health centre, but I haven't walked or done yoga or practised the keyboard or made contact with any friends. I feel horrible in my body and my spirit.

I did get into a desultory spat with a guy on Twitter from the US about masks and human rights - I couldn't tell if he was serious or just taking the piss but I wasn't going to let it go. Neither of us were ever rude - he said enjoy losing the rest of your rights, I said enjoy the virus - and I quite enjoyed it, a text every ten minutes or so, lying in my bed arguing with some stranger I don't know on the other side of the world.  He would not accept the word 'extra' when applied to deaths - the death rate in the UK has been around 100,000 per three months for several years, creeping up as the population increases, proportionally. This three months there's been 155,000 deaths which is an excess of 55,000, or 55,000 extra (these figures could be wrong, but they're in the region, I think), but he wouldn't have that and he wouldn't tell me why. My point is that it's a legitimate way of counting - there's all sorts of shit going on about whether deaths are being appropriately certified as due to the virus, but just looking at the comparative figures you can see that this is fucking outrageous, deaths have gone up by 50% and I don't see how it's disrespectful to anyone who's died at any point. But he wouldn't have it and he wouldn't explain why not so I got bored in the end and went to sleep. When I looked just now I could see that he was having a similar debate with someone else, originating from the same tweet.

Bed now - I have to go back to the Dermatology Dept tomorrow for the second dose of the chemo cream on my leg. I've kept forgetting I'm meant to keep it out of the sun. Probably just as well I've hardly walked anywhere recently.

12:35 a.m. - 20.05.20


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