Painting and pain don’t go…

de Villiars. The fastest century.

I painted as much of my gates as could between 7.40 and 8.30am this morning. I was sitting so although it hurt like mad, not as bad as it could be.

I need to get it done as, although the man I employ is very good value for money, I can’t afford to pay for it all. It’s good that I’m not afraid of hard work. It’s the feather board side so harder to get paint into the edges. But once I got going that wasn’t a problem. I’ve discovered I’m a quicker and less messy painter than the man I employ.

Yesterday evening I couldn’t work the hose. It made no sense to me. I had to call my cleaner to show me how. He came and showed me and said he had watered before he left. That was 5.15pm still hot. I was cross, as I had not asked him too. My hose is not my first resort and also watering in heat just causes the water to evaporate and less sinks down causing roots to draw upwards.

This morning I sent a text saying I could not turn the tap after he wound it back. So he came and watered the garden. At 8.30 or so . Too late. I had tried a 5am. If he had replied to my text, I would have said, after 8am, that there was no hurry.

I think he is over anxious to please, as he feels he let me down at the weekend. I have said I don’t hold on to hurt, I moved on and there was no issue.

Paramedics arrived this morning. I couldn’t believe my ears. I had just dressed after a shower. Someone had dialled 999 after seeing a request for some help on a community website. I told them my request was for help getting a meal together, but since they were here would they look at my bruising as it’s not reduced.

I asked that they not make it an official visit, as I’ve had three in the last week. They made me a cup of tea, felt my bruises, we exchanged pleasantries and I sent them on their way.

As a South West Ambulance governor I am furious.

On Sunday I saw a meme in a group on facebook. It was misleading about mental health. I corrected it, and enquired of the friend who posted it where she found it. She was a phone contact friend. She told me by text and I emailed the author whose book title was being used. I then went to help the friend locally who needed the phone charger.

I received an aggressive text from the facebook friend. I was taken aback as this was so unexpected. I replied that I would like to cease contact for the rest of the day as I’m not accustomed to aggression. She kept on and I asked her to stop. She texted again. I turned my phone off.

I don’t use facebook a lot. But yesterday I found myself, unnamed, but completely misrepresented on a post. I responded referring to myself as ‘the person who commented on the meme’. She then replied, tagging me, saying she had tried to not identify me but…I replied ‘I did not identify me either but as you’ve now told a lot of my friends it is me you are misrepresenting, they should know this…’

So I am now blocked. She seemed so nice…

I am so careful. Friends on facebook are strange entities…

The only place I express my full opinion is Twitter. Unless it’s to heads of state, or other powerful people I need to persuade about human rights.

Even here I hold back. I am passionate, I seize life. I do not tolerate fools gladly.

By Chrisssie Morris Brady

I've read poetry since I was nine and have written creatively since I was fourteen (probably long before that). After writing book reviews and social comment, I decided I wanted to write poetry. I have no formal training, but I surround myself with poets and their writing. I am honing my craft.
I have two published collections which I don't feel good about, but have been published by and other publications. I live on the south coast of England with my daughter. I am seriously ill.

11 replies on “Painting and pain don’t go…”

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