With Lots of Love
Hi folks. It’s been a while. I’ve been procrastinating this blog, as everything else just about.
I went into another depressive phase for a while and began isolating, and still not back on track yet. I am simply preferring to stay alone. I put off everything. I won’t go to the gym. I won’t sort out some voluntary work. Papers pile up on the table, forms that have got to be filled. What am I actually doing with myself? Precious little…
I spend by far most of the time on internet forums, especially those about social anxiety. I think I started going there to find out more about my son’s situation and how it can be helped, and ended up concluding that I had the condition myself. I could relate to an awful lot of what was being said.
I tried to post on here from my Smartphone yesterday but frustratingly it didn’t work. Luckily it was not a long post. I was wandering around a hospital grounds which happens to be somewhat countrified and pleasant. They also have a brilliant caf where you can literally sit for hours unmolested, over a cup of tea and a slice of cake. There’s a lovely view over the adjoining countryside. It also happens to be where my ex is incarcerated, but I don’t go there to visit, just to enjoy the peace and quiet.
I actually saw him yesterday however. He was out in the exercise yard smoking a ciggie with his fellow inmates and we were able to talk. All he was after was for me to buy him some Bob Marley CD’s. He looked so pathetic, it was heartbreaking really.
Yet another reminder of how lucky I am to have my freedom. Though naturally, it doesn’t always feel that way.
Have not seen my son in months. I really miss him. Reports are always good from the foster carer (I call her regularly on the phone), but she never comments to me on anything he’s said to her. Just said he’s OK and fulfilling his side of the household rules. He gets up in the morning and has breakfast. Comes down a bit in the daytime. Eats with the family in the evening. Attends to his personal hygiene. Gets dressed. Keeps his room tidy and does his allotted chores. Still barely gets out except to the nearby Tesco’s to get his snacks and tobacco, as he now smokes, alas.
He’s at respite care this week as the foster carer has gone to New York for a week. I hope he hit it off with the respite carer and has been able to talk to her, though it always makes me uncomfortable and sad that he has to go there, especially at his age. Just more being shuttled about. Yet it may have worked out well, and he seemed quite happy to go, saying he needed a holiday himself.
My washing machine has finally given up the ghost, and a new one’s being delivered this afternoon. I will probably try to get out in a bit and have some breakfast in a nice local cafe, as I’ve got nothing at home. Such is my thrilling existence.
I’m not a nice person. But maybe that too is OK. I can’t really do too much about that. Too selfish and self absorbed, and extremely judgmental of myself and others. A misery-guts to boot. Lazy. Hired a cleaner because I can’t lift a finger to clean up after myself. Not too creative any more. Negative outlook. Needy. Unproductive and generally pathetic. Frighteningly impractical and helpless. Thank God I will die one day and cease to exist. I’m a waste of air.
Groups and therapy etc aren’t on this week, but I’m coping OK so far. Tomorrow is a full day, too full. Everything on one day, I’ll be exhausted.
Have things I need to do but soooo don’t wanna do them. Rather continue to kill time indefinitely on internet forums, or should that be ‘fora’. Drinking tons of teas and coffees, which apparently DON’T dehydrate you as people often say. I always knew that was balderdash. It still counts as fluid. I do alternate with herbal drinks anyway. There’s little human warmth in my life, so I replace it with hot drinks.
But y’know what? It could definitely be so much worse. I’m not depressed right now. I enjoy parts of my day. My cat is a sweetheart. She looks after me really.
Lots of love.
Am I Still Ill? 