The last two years since my sister died have been very hard, and since last year when Mike ghosted me because he ‘didn’t want to be my cook, cleaner and nurse’, twenty four hours after he proclaimed his love and that he would not let me die alone, my emotional strength has been even more fragile. I also lost my dog a week or so after the death of my sister.
I have had some bad news today and have wept and feel I will never stop weeping.
All the PTSD I’ve suffered because of my neurological disease seems to haunt me again, and feelings of worthlessness are constant companions. I have no resilience to weather the storms, even literal ones. And the loss of the view of the harbour has impacted me deeply.
I am a changed person since September last year, and the passive aggression of Abby G Poetree has hurt me far more than my relationship with her warranted. I had been trying to nurture a friendship, but she is hard work.
I am grateful to Tanya and John. They are friends indeed, and during this pandemic we all need to show kindness more than ever before.
Last night I slept like a log. I woke early, fiddled on some work and went back back to sleep.
I slept through three phone calls and roof repairs . I feel so different. Recharged.
I am giving English as a foreign language lessons to a neighbour. I so enjoy it. We have fun. I let him set the agenda quite a bit and teach him idioms, slang, and proper words and sentences too.
He makes good progresss.
Maybe I slept better because I poured my heart out to a friend of Mike. I told him all about the alcoholism. I worry so much about him.I don’t know if I’m indifferent or hate him. I loved him as I never loved anyone before.
So, I am considering linking with the local hospice so I can stop my lung medicine and slip away. My daughter has the opportunity to go elsewhere for six months after this is over. When that will be I don’t know.
I cannot live without seeing the sun in winter.
And Michael Ebsworth repeatedly crooned I’m never going to let you die alone. You and I are all I care about now.
This is such a great piece, and has made my eyes prick with tears for my last love. He came to move in with me after a nine month gap, at which time he was my neighbour. I loved asking him about his day, I loved expressing my gratitude for the things he did for me. I loved to tell him I valued his skills at putting my towel rack together, the shelving in my kitchen and a small trolley to slide into my under- the- stairs cupboard. While he was doing something else, I knelt on the floor looking at a bird table with roof that I had not dreamt would need putting together. It had screws. I took a breath and said, I’ll glue it. He immediately turned to me and said to let him have look. Three minutes later, it was put together with the screws.
He might be in town and text to ask if I needed anything. No. So he would bring me chocolate.
I have poor health, but he didn’t mind. He made wonderful love to me, and I to him.
When he came to move in, he’d been more hasty than I anticipated. The first night left us both with sleep deprivation. The next day, I sat next to him and asked his opinion about a change in the help I had in the house as I was dissatisfied with the help I had. He just kept telling me not to cancel it. I thought he was tired, so I left it for another day. I popped out to see a friend, and when I came back he was gone. At first I thought he’d gone to the local store. No, he was gone as in gone. Later he would text to tell me I had chased him to get a cleaner, cook, and nurse. I felt sad he thought so little of me and himself.