Today has been nightmare. My neuromuscular disease is out of control. I have tried to sleep but it’s difficult. I had a bad night due to muscle spasms and the same today. I am taking higher doses of the medicine for this. That scares me as well.
All because a previous neighbour told malicious lies about me. This wind chime situation is ridiculous and the law is an ass. I have started a petition to make a law so that no one can hang a noise making object without the consent of neighbours.
So I am really malfunctioning because of the wind chimes next door. I say next door, they are within arm’s reach over the fence. My head is in a fog, as well as in a constant headache, my left limbs hurt. I am bad tempered because of the area in my brain that is affected.
My laptop doesn’t work, I am writing this on my phone. I am crying out to be understood but no one does. They judge me and are unkind to me. But if they were in my situation they would want understanding and kindness.
What really upsets me is that the people next door and their letting agency do this to me because of the malicious lies told by Michael Ebsworth flatmate or whatever she is. She is violent towards him and speaks so badly of him. And his father will have nothing to do with him because of her.
I need my daughter so badly. I am so scared that I’m going to have a seizure. The wearing down of my nervous system is starting to make me miss a moment every so often.
I had thought I had someone to love when Mike came here. And he told me he loves the bits of me that are damaged by my disease. I can’t express how much I have longed to hear that. To be loved for everything I’ve been through. Not despite it. But he ran ranway atthefirst sign of honesty because his whole life isa lie. He is stunted at age eleven when his mother died and has made an enemy of all the people who have loved him. He’s an alcoholic and I don’t need that.
Since my last post my laptop has been seriously malfunctioning. This is my fifth attempt to write. To add a meme is impossible. Mike Ebsworth has changed his phone number in the hope of avoiding legal consequences but it’s not as simple as that.
I am concerned about him, as the woman he shares an address with tried to hit him, and I saw a bruise on his upper arm which he said was work related. But that doesn’t fit. Last November I saw multiple bruises on his upper arms and he said it was work then. I had no reason to disbelieve him, but I do now.
The wind chimes my neighbours hung continue to cause me headaches, nerve pain and muscle spasms. My head also seems to be in a fog and my concentration is out the window. I can’t remember anything, it seems. I forgot to go to two shops while I was out. I am worried that I will suffer a seizure . I need to end this blog, as I can’t see what I am typing. This is an additional pain the neck, so to speak.
A few days ago I met with a friend and because the place we were at was so noisy, we went to my home. She hadn’t been there before, and she exclaimed how lovely it was. She admired my use of colour and the art I choose to hang. Michael also used to love my home. He always complimented me.
Laura laughed when I told herMikeEbbsworth had left because he thought I wanted a carer. She said she had never known anyone as independent as me.
After spending the morning waiting for a phone call, I went to get a watch repaired. I tried a jewellers first, as that was what I was told I needed, but ended up at the little watch repair shop in a department store.
On my way there, I ran into an old friend and we decided to go for a coffee. We had a double vodka each. We talked about the past, our now, our pain. I ended up sobbing as I told him about my neighbours’ refusal to change the windchimes to a lower tone, like bamboo. I told him about the physical torment it gives me and how my former neighbour lied to the letting agent. About her malicious behaviour. I told him how I fell in love with Mike , and how he’s been trying to contact me all year and how he moved in and out within 24 hours.
I can never live with Michael. He drinks too much. He would be lazy and slobby. He left quite a trail behind him for his short stay. I’ve had enough of bad relationships.
I am seriously worried about my health due to those windchimes. It’s all because of Woodhouse’s malicious lies. That’s the one thing she does well.
So I went to a solicitor and am going to sue them, the letting agency and my current neighbours.
I have to. This has to stop. I have to regain my health and peace of mind. It’s time to stop considering others and put myself first for once.
My laptop is not working properly because the end of bed couch got kicked over in the night when Mike was here. I’m having to give vegetables away so they don’t perish. Mike Ebsworth has deactivated his phone number – an act of real cowardice.
The friend I met in town prayed for me. I so appreciated it. I have deep faith in God, and pray, but it’s been a while since anyone prayed for me. Not any one with real faith.
An old friend came over this morning. I realised I was in a very irritable mood, which is very unlike me. He put together a piece of furniture for me which is so very kind. I don’t remember when I met Jim, but I’ve known his wife since I was sixteen. She’s older, but I have no idea by how much. She’s just always been my friend, even when we haven’t been in touch for years.
I don’t know what to make of this mood. I feel very hot and the ceiling fan on. It’s not a hot day and the humidity is lower than yesterday. I’ve had irritations, but they don’t usually get the better of me. I threw up this morning because I mentioned what Mike had done to me. It’s still very raw and painful. But I found my front door key, it was on the bed after I remade it when Mr Ebsworth left.
The wind chimes my neighbours have continues to provoke symptoms of my disease that I haven’t experienced in years. My left arm and foot do their own thing. I cannot control them. It’s worrying. My neighbours have been told by letter that the pitch is making me ill, but they refuse to take them down.
My laptop is very unwell indeed, as it got kicked to the floor by accident while Mike was here. He seems unmoved by this, or by the money I spent on green groceries. I think I’ve mentioned this before. This blog is meant to be about my health and my journey with it. Not the bad manners of other people.
It is a legacy from when Dawn Woodward, a malicious person and compulsive liar lived next door. Just now I can hear some pipe music and I’m going insane. … It’s stopped.
I’ve also been trying to sign into my Samsung account and it is a merry go round. It has driven me into further irritation.
I don’t know what to do. Whether to stay in and rest or go out and see friends.
This post doesn’t have a title as I copied and pasted this from elsewhere in my docx, and it won’t co-operate with my wish for a title. I’m a hopeless blogger. My cleaner just left and told me I keep my home much tidier than a lot of places she cleans. She didn’t need to say this. She said it because she is kind and full of love for people. Life is too short to criticise and find fault with others all the time.
I came across this earlier, and wanted to share it. This is love. Life is too brief to waste it criticising other people. For every finger we point there are three pointing back at us.
My cleaner just left. She asked why I was short of breath when I reached the bottom of my stairs. I explained briefly, and she replied that she thinks I’m amazing because my home is so much tidier than other homes she cleans. She didn’t need to say this. She said it because she is kind and loving. She helped me swap lamps around because my bedside lamp bulb died at the weekend or before. She noticed the lamp we brought up was bulbless, and brought one up from my cupboard. I can get a replacement bulb today or whenever it suits me, mainly it’s remembering. The real name for a ‘bulb’ is lamp which I learned from my electrician friend. I need a lamp for my lamp. I find this amusing because I am easily amused and pleased.
Mike continues to attack me. Let him. Life is too short, I’ve had three family members die in my arms. I want to live my life…
I haven’t been out today. I couldn’t face getting up. I am weary from crying and vomiting from sheer hurt. And Mike’s attempts to bully me by text and email.
He thinks someone we shall refer to as Malice was hurt by him because they tried to hit him. But hurt doesn’t lash out, it folds inward, it seeks to self protect. I feel bent over wih pain, as though a sack is hung around my neck.
I took my last post down because he didn’t like his name being there. His name isn’t copyrighted so I’m free to use it. I cancelled a social date with a friend because I couldn’t stop crying and didn’t want to be brave. I saw friends yesterday and am tired of being told he is an idiot and doesn’t realise how wonder I am. I’m sick of hearing it. I just want to lie in my bed with my daughter and chat.
To make things much worse, he brought up things that are painful reminders of my sister being so very ill and how very badly a vicar behaved before and after her death. He also lacked tact when my Dad died, and I never mentioned it. I should have done. It did him no favours nor me.
It seems Mike just can’t get that I am so hurt. He thinks it’s ok to keep on being unpleasant. It’s not, as I’m falling apart.
I bought food for the both of us and for his lunch at work. A lot will perish before I can eat it. Doesn’t matter to him.
My nerves hurt from the windchimes next door. Relentless. It’s cruelty. It frightens me that people can be so wicked.
I’ve been screaming with pain, both inner and physical. I hurt so much by Mike’s departure. He left because he thought I wanted a carer. The very last thing on my mind. I wanted a partnership of equals, but naively I trusted him to try to discuss how much help I should keep having. I’m paying an awful amount of money to have half a hour of help each day. I asked him what he thought of me employing someone privately, less frequently but for a longer period of time. All he said was ‘don’t cancel it’. I found this frustrating, but knew he was tired. I left him to sleep and popped in on my friend. He left.
When he told me what he was thinking, I was incredulous. I could not grasp it. Beyond belief. My illness and appearance stop me from believing anyone would want me. But Michael Ebsworth has always told me he loves me and finds my body very attractive. Oh, the thngs he does to me! He’s such a passionate lover. Tender yet demanding.
He knows me. He knows my home can be untidy. Nothing was a surprise to him. And I spent ages sending texts making suggestions on what possblities there were to make this house our home, not just mine. He told me I don’t open windows. Almost all my windows are open all the time. I won’t mention his untidiness and bad habits here.
I went to see the ‘asthma’ nurse in the morning. She is so lovely that I dissolved into tears. I tried to see a play last night which had bought a ticket for about a month ago. I had to leave the theatre to vomit in the ladies and couldn’t face going back in. All the while Mike was firing texts at me.
I’ve been screaming out loud too because the wind changed direction a couple of days ago and I can hear the windchimes all the length of the garden. My nerves are yelling at me to make the chimes stop. My muscles hurt so much on my left side. My neighbours have been told that they cause me nerve pain and they do not change them nor move them.