So I still feel low. I haven’t got dressed for a week. I’ve stayed in bed as at the weekend I ran out of my prescriptions and was quite ill. Oh, I did dash out to get some food.
I writing on medium and still have some success. One publisher on there has barred me. There is a note system which I had not yet learned to use. I had submitted and they sent a note which I read as my piece needing to be published very soon as it was about rape law in the US in the light of the Weinstein conviction. So I expanded even though I didn’t want to expand. Another note., more please. So I reluctantly wrote more. Then I got told I was deleting notes. I was what? I replied that I didn’t know how to do that and I was sorry. Then I sat waiting and sent a note to say I was waiting for them. Bang! I was out on my ear. No cutting slack for newbies.
There isn’t another service that does what I had in my area. I’ve been without help since that woman shouted at me in my home. I’m struggling. In every sense I am struggling.
I have found this week hard. Someone shouted at me in my home and left in a fit of pique.
I hadn’t even finished my question.
I was left, open mouthed and shocked.
Quickly I dissolved into tears. I sobbed for a couple of hours.
This was the help I had wanted so that I could live with more freedom. This woman was paid to make my life easier. My self-esteem had done well. My dignity had prospered.
One hidden resentment on her part blew the whole thing out of the water.
That service is available in my area except from the ‘company’ she works for. The company are all best friends, going to each other’s family events. And talking about clients.
So I was never going to stand a chance in putting my point of view.
My daughter was supposed to collect my prescription yesterday, but they did not reach my home. I had asked her to get them on Friday, but she didn’t see my message. So now I have missed two doses of the medicine that most affects me if I miss a dose. I get swimmy in my head, and then dizzy which means I can’t walk or stand.
A friend down the road is going to collect it tomorrow and then I will switch back to a pharmacy that delivers. The one in the High St closed and all customer records were sent to a very unsuitable pharmacy.
I found my home much too hot today and couldn’t figure it out. I went to the boiler to reduce the heating, and then went to my thermostat. It was on 30 C !!! That’s like 95 F. Whoever did that was very unwise and didn’t ask my permission. It is turned down now and I’m wearing a T shirt.
I felt recovered from my misadventures in Salisbury. I caught up with the rest I needed, and recovered from being cold for quite a while. In fact, my friend, Ian Chorlton turned on the heated seat in his car, which was wonderful.
A plant I bought before travelling to Salisbury is still in my trolley.
I just went to rescue it and it is suffering from lack of light and water. I hope to nurture it to health again.
I haven’t been out since arriving back, as naps and rain got in the way. I won’t be able to go out tomorrow as I will be dizzy.
I have been cross with my friend who asked me to go on a date. He had reason to be in hospital and told me he would message me later. He didn’t so I got very worried and phoned. No answer. Messaged. No answer. Finally, yesterday he sent a message that he was with his daughters. At home. My frantic worry is now a crossness. I need to speak to him about this. And a date is now even more out of the question.
I have been writing. An article was submitted to Fearless She Wrote. And then I heard it was curated by medium.com. This has confused me as I thought a publication accepting an article was curation.
The email said it was very high quality writing. In my opinion other articles I’ve written have been better…
What I find odd is that they ask for good grammar. I have read articles written as Americans speak. That is often a grammar fail. Oh well, as long as I’m happy I don’t mind.
I am still recovering from Thursday. Just some aches in my ribs from sitting for so long in the cold. I got cold. I have been much colder but that was another era in my health.
I have sent thank you cards. Sent texts of gratitude.
My gratitude for strangers who are so kind is boundless. I actually believe no one is a stranger, but a friend in waiting. I have always done my best to be kind. All over the world I have experienced kindness. I used to be quite a risk taker, although other risk takers might think me very tame.
Risks are better taken in warm climates. Then, if you have nowhere to sleep, you won’t freeze.
I have continued with napping. My daughter came yesterday and made me a hot dinner.
I made someone very happy today, just by sending a card. I was thrilled. I love making people feel happy.
I’ve been writing and now write for two publications on medium.com. It’s so rewarding, and I don’t mean money..
I have spent today napping and recovering from yesterday. I got so cold, panic was starting to rise, and I had pushed my trolley. Two unnamed men also had pushed my trolley.
I slept like a log last night, and had some vivid dreams.
I’ve tried to thank as many people as possible. The young man, Cameron, I’ve been able to text. I’ve sent a thank you card to Ian, who was my host and he drove me home. Tara, the van driver, I have no way of reaching.
I have to confess, after being debussed en route to Salisbury, I was so glad to be driven home. He happened to be working from home and also did look at a message request on Instagram, which he doesn’t normally do. Neither do I.
Last Friday, when I was shouted at in my home, it was by a private enterprise who were providing a service. That was stopped without notice and I’ve had to go without for eight days now. Other’s who provide this service do not deliver it in my neighbourhood.
It is affecting my wellbeing. No one should be able to cancel without giving notice.
Here is the poem I read on Wednesday.
Fall in Springtime
Falling through memories of my life as they pass my eyes Screaming out my soul and loud my heart cries Words that forecast my demise cannot not be taken back Tell me friend, does Fall in Springtime frighten you?
The sun has come at last to play with shadows and light That give texture to our days, no longer long the night Darkness is beng chased away, see the darling buds of May Tell me friend, does Fall in Springtime frighten you?
Look now around regard the blooms that herald life, not decay Birds are nesting ready for life in the eggs they lay Not no renewed life ahead for me this year Tell me friend, does Fall in Springtime frighten you?
Embracing life won’t cease though strength is dimmed Tending garden will be still my love, colours riot untrimmed My soul weeps to know I might not see fruit born Tell me friend, does Fall in Springtime frighten you?
Flowers that jostle for attention, blooms both bright and subtle Will outlive my journey on this earth, travels I would glad redouble Trees will grow and bear their fruit which may I live to taste Tell me friend, does Fall in Springtime frighten you?
I will continue to shine as the sun, glow like the moon and stars My smile will still embrace the world it will never stray afar From my lips, though sadness may occasion my eyes to tears Tell me friend, does Fall in Spintime frighten you?
Love will be my gift to those who walk my way wherever it leads My heart will still hold close those I treasure and need Still yearn for love’s secrets shared, the bond unsaid Tell me friend, does Fall in Springtime frighten you
I have used this image recently, but I feel for that chicken. Little did I know how wrong my morning could go…
Yesterday, I went to a city named Salisbury for a poetry event. About halfway there, the bus driver announced that we all had to get out and another bus would come because a mirror had come off.
It was cold. I wanted to not be there. A man started to chat with me. He was interesting so the time passed quickly. I got to Salisbury and asked someone for directions as I knew I had to turn a corner, and went on my way.
I got lost. The pub wasn’t where he said. A different one was. I turned back and asked someone else. They were more accurate, and finally I was in a warm pub.
I had some soup and warm bread with butter. I forgot to pay. Thankfully I had mentioned I would be upstairs. A waiter tactfully waylaid me on my way out.
The evening was really enjoyable. It was anti-valentines as a theme, but the room had hearts scattered across tables, with chocolate hearts and I’m afraid I scoffed the lot on my table.
There was funny poetry about love, and angry poetry about love.There was irony, satire, and we laughed a lot. I read a love poem and a poem that asks about love in times of illness.
I was tired before I got there. It’s a late night and a need to leave in order to reach home by lunch time.
I had difficulty getting my trolley over my friends’ threshold. So I asked their daughter to hold my bag which had my overnight stuff in, and my handbag.
I proceeded to the bus stop, some ten minutes away and then realised my bag was missing. I felt panic as I was convinced that it had fallen off the footplate of my trolley. So I went back and saw it nowhere, and my friend was out. I started to go back to the bus stop, but the battery on my trolley had run very low. So I came to a halt. I had tears in my eyes. Then a supermarket delivery van approached and I waved it to a stop and out jumped a lovely lady who called the police. Then a young man stopped and got out of his car. He had seen me travelling the other way,
I didn’t have my friend’s number, as we communicate through Instagram. The lady started searching facebook, but the young man found him quickly on Insta. A message was sent, which, amazingly my friend accepted. As soon as he saw my name in the message, he phoned my friend, who appeared within 5 minutes. I was driven to his house, in the Supermarket van, made a cup of tea, and then my trolley was dismantled and put in his car and drove me home.
Today has been a day of getting nowhere. Until after business hours. I called the agency to do with the person spewed anger all over me. I got stonewalled.
This caused me much frustration. My cleaner came and sorted my life out, in that the cleaning I can’t do is done, my laundry hung, a birthday card to my cousin sent.
My cleaner is now going back to be with his wife because her grandmother is dying. He has had such a hard time with grief recently.
On medium.com things are going well. In a steady, slow way I am building followers and readers of my articles. It is quite tenuous getting started, but now that I write for a publisher, it gets a bit easier.
A friend has asked me on a date. I’m worried because I am not attracted to him. I enjoy him as a friend.
Tomorrow I must sort out where I get my prescriptions filled. The pharmacist I was using nearby closed and my records were sent to a huge supermarket of health and beauty products. They don’t deliver. I must go back to the pharmacy I left.
It’s all so much work. It is relentless it seems. Just trying to live.
I did go to the theatre last night, but was so disappointed that I left half through.
I got some food on my way. Mozzerella cheese to eat with caramelised onion. Some Skyrr – a high protein Icelandic yogurt. I also got some marzipan filled chocolates that I discovered recently. They remind me of Germany.
I ate the mozzerella with a glass of good red wine. Delicious.
This morning I got a text in relation to the anger spewed on me on Friday. It sent adrenalin through my body, with the subsequent pain, muscle spasms and anxiety. I replied with some information, and added that the text had made me highly anxious and I don’t expect this on a Sunday morning. So I got a second text which compounded my anxiety.
I told a friend which I soon regretted as he started telling me what I should have done instead so he is temporarily blocked until I feel better.
I wrote an article today which helped me focus and feel purposeful.
There is some technology I would like to have to reduce my general pain, anxiety etc. But it is expensive so I need to start a Go Fund Me page.
And I’ve realised that my medium page in here is not a link, as I had thought.
Today is a better day, although I can’t say it’s been good. It’s pouring with rain and the wind is estimated to be around 80mph. They reckon a month’s worth of rain will fall this weekend.
I feel for the people in flood areas. Techically, I am in one, and I’ve had lots of flood warnings by phone. But the waves won’t reach me. The harbour wall was raised last summer, so now when one is out on the Quay there is a low parapet along the edge, instead of a drop into the sea.
Earlier, I realised I’m due at the theatre tonight. I thought it was in March. I don’t mind braving the elements, but I’m in no mood. On the other hand, it’s music I love, and seeing people, both of which are healing.
Also, I can get cash and some food. The pros outweigh the cons but I feel so ick and bleeeaaaagggghhhhh. As Snoopy might say.
I got some housework done, and ate something. The first I’ve eaten since Thursday. I find it hard to eat when someone spews anger over me. Someone phoned me about that, and I was aghast that the angry person had lied about several things in the last few months. I hate losing faith in people like this.
I will tell the truth to my own hurt.
My daughter came at some point. She helped with a few tiny things around the house. She did not present her best self, and said some hurtful things.
I just got an email to say one of my articles on medium has been curated. That means a publisher on medium has published it and now I am one of their writers. Live Your Life On Purpose publishes articles about slices of your life and how you live it on purpose. Not just going one day to the next, only having a job to pay the bills. Having no resilience or passion.
Meditation still works for the nerve in my leg. I have pain elsewhere, and I have a skin condition that is weeping.
I found this in my Google profile. It is a complete lie. I asked Les Sherlock NOT to write any music. I hadn’t heard any of his compositions, but all my friends told me I should not ever let him near my Opus Dei.
I was stupid enough to ask him what he thought, and he asked to keep a copy. Stupidly, again,I trusted him to respect my wishes that he not write any music.
The next thing I knew, he had done it, He stole my Intellectual Property.
A ‘Christian’ who bullied me in a vicarage, spitting saliva in his anger that I had opinions about my own work.
I sent it to contacts in the U.S. who told me lyrics were brilliant but the music appalling.
http://www.inthebeginning.org.uk/music.html Chrissie Morris-Brady had the idea for this musical, and wrote the words in 1989. After unsuccessfully looking for someone to write music for it, she asked me to have a go. After unsuccessfully looking for someone to write music for it, she asked me to have a go…
I’ve cried a lot. I haven’t planted my plants. The postman didn’t come today. I wanted to apologise to him.
I have been writing. It’s supposed to be healing and cathartic, but I only wish today was over and I could go to bed.
The wind from the incoming storm is gathering strength. I can hear it growling and then dying, repeatedly. The harbour looks very rough.
There has been no more work on the houses that are meant to go up. I heard the name plate on the house of the garden where these teeny weeny postage stamp houses are going, has been pulled off and smashed on the ground. There’s a lot of anger about these plans.
So I haven’t achieved much in my car wreck of a day. I feel an utter failure as I’ve found no joy today, no gratitude and yet I’m not confined in a cell with no window.
It’s not lost on me that today is Valentines Day. I wonder if a certain man has given a card to the woman he left for me. Twice.
I don’t miss him anymore. I just want to stop thinking about him a few times each week. It’s wasted thinking.
Writer and psychologist. My health, a journey with two life shortening diseases 
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