Two stories stick out that I can remember, well, have been embarrassing enough to stick with me all these years.
The first was when we, the family, were in Turkey. We went on this super long bus tour to Ephesus. We stopped at a hotel along the way and they set out the tables in one long line. We all went to dinner after which me and slag wanted to explore the complex. I had to grab something from the room so I got the key from my mum. Ran down and grabbed whatever it was that I needed at the time. I ran back up to the tables and found my mum. I said thank you, kissed her on the cheek, hug and then ran off again. Turns out. Wasn’t my mum. Just someone with the same hairstyle. The whole table erupted with laughter. I was all of 10 years old. That was embarrassing.
The only other one, and I’ve been blessed not to have more, is when my parents went to St Lucia for work. Me and my brother were left behind and a family friend/worker Bernie was staying in the house to mind the water factory. So these were the days I had motorbikes. I got hungry and fancied treating myself so I went to the KFC in Colwyn Bay. Bernie went as well but didn’t realise. We were in the queue and talking. He went to order and ordered two big family meal bucket things, “Oh no Bernie it’s okay I want to order something else for myself, thank you though!”, Bernie stared at me “These are all for me”, “Oh, Sorry”, See Bernie was fat, not normal fat. Fat as in his stomach skin was splitting, bigger than a wrestler, two seats on a plane, break your scales fat. I was embarrassed to order my fillet burger meal ha.
Bernie was awesome. He died just before my dad did.
My bestie coming over from Sheffield to meet me in Machester city centre.
I booked a hotel for us. Reasonably priced at £100 a night but you have a checkout time of 12 the next day. Planning to get hammered with him and have a night of talking, catching up, some good food and a wander around town to see the old places we used to go. I wanted to stop at a sushi restaurant but wasn’t sure if he would like it. We went to one for his birthday a long time ago. 2012? See that number in my head means nothing, it was like it was yesterday not a decade ago. then go to ye old pub and sit and talk to the small hours, climb into bed and have a lay in till 11 am. Then get some brunch from Wetherspoons before walking him back to the train station and hugging him goodbye.
He messaged that he was ill and couldn’t make it.
I’m trying to silence my mind on this.
Half of me is screaming “Ha this is what you deserve, you can’t have friends” Then the other half is “OMG is he okay? He has a gut problem”. So depends on which way I look at it. Friends running away from me because I’m a dickhead and a loser. Living in a fucking motel not knowing what’s going to happen next, two frikkin seizures I’ve not told anyone about. Pathetic. A pathetic piece of shit who does nothing but burden people and make it about you. You fucking loser. Do it. You’ve got the pills.
Then of course the logical side says thank god he’s okay and it’s nothing serious. We can meet up again another time, it isn’t a problem. I got the money back from the hotel so no loss. Hopefully, he hasn’t bought his train tickets yet. But you can get a refund on those too. If he’s not up to it, it’s not his fault that his body is being lame.
Oh, mental health. Starting to love you as much as physical help.
Two seizures. Two sets of bumps on my forehead, One biten tongue.
Piss take.
Wow this QOTD went dark fast. I’m not going to kill myself I’m capable of telling my brain to stop and have coping mechanisms in place for when this kind of thing happens.
I had a good day. I also had a confusing day but we will sweep that one under the rug for now. Has anyone ever used BueStacks before? amazing bit of software that lets you create your own ‘Android tablet’ and you can put your Google account on then most importantly, play games you play on your phone but instead on your own laptop/desktop which I find amazing.
I can be typing this out and stop to check out something on the app I have running in the background. You can zoom in, set different resource usage and also have macros. Ahh macros. I can record a sequence of clicks when grinding in a game and leave it to it in the background while I get on with something else. Always loved macros. The permanent pursuit of ever-changing macro detection tools. My good day. I had a productive meeting with some clients who need some IT training for a mental health ward. For free obviously, so I’m taking on the project and turning it into an all-in-one service. So a patient comes in, I’ll help them set up email accounts or how to get on government sites, you know all the basics. Then when it’s time for them to leave the hospital I can give them a free laptop or tablet with some data sims to then go off into the world, digitally equipped and not excluded anymore. Huzzah. So I’ll do the training on Fridays from 10 am to 2 pm and adjust it depending on attendance. A member of staff will be there in case they throw things at me. Should I tell them I’m crazy too? probably not. That might help them. Seeing me functioning so all is not lost. Big-headed much.
Then the weird thing happened between 12 pm and 2.30 pm. But, yes, I know under the rug. I went to see my social worker, Julie or Judy. That’s so bad I don’t remember her name. She bought me a coffee at the canteen and we sat there talking about stuff for a good 1.5 hours. Not going over my life story but just chatting about different things, mental health and physical health, but it was so nice. I haven’t spoken to a proper person in a while. Especially one who is knowledgeable in health care. We came up with a three-step plan that she’s going to do tomorrow. I’m worried that the hotel won’t be renewed for another week since Monday is a bank holiday. She said in no circumstances would they stop funding the hotel until I am in a flat/house or whatever. But she will call them to get double confirmation and text me about it. Then the other one was to sort my benefits as they are missing money off it, so she has access to an adviser who can help so that’ll be a three-way call next week. And the final thing is she wants to hunt down my other social worker who is supposed to be finding me a place to leave, corner him and then throttle him. Extreme
Those weren’t the best bits. The best bit was when she gave me a £20 voucher for the supermarket from her department. They also gave me a bag full of things, toothpaste & and toothbrush, shower gels, 6 pairs of socks, shorts, few tops- all brand new and untouched. Oh, and a mug, deodorant, pens and a notebook and yeah it was thoughtful of them. I spent the voucher already on my way back. I discovered that if I use a small trolley don’t have to struggle with stick. New skill unlocked! Bought a lot of nice things that can made with hot water, cordial/squash, porridge tubs and just all the things I needed.
And now I sit, off to bed. Possibly. Possibly another terrible documentary on Prime.
I’m trapped in this do a post or don’t do a post, like trench warfare neither side is winning Nightime meds dropping from the sky lulling me to sleep. It’s 22.45 here. Not late but not early either. I have an aching need to have a drive but where too is beyond me. Think that loops back to the previous post and not remembering what I need to do.
I had some news from the housing officer today, due to concerns about my mental deterioration and increasing self-harm they have removed me from the family unit and put me in a motel. Its style is a 1960s prison with a dash of refugee center. Which is a polite way of saying its fucking awful. I managed to swipe some bags of tea and coffee to amuse myself but sadly I’m on the last sachet now. I can hear people shouting down the hall, crying coming from outside, and a very not-nice atmosphere. That said, the tablet (not the medicinal kind) and typing are making things better. The door has a bolt on it so will be safe tonight.
I guess D is right. I did bring things on myself. Becoming disabled does that. That must be why so few people voluntarily become disabled o.0
I won’t go into more details as to who did what and who didn’t do what because I don’t want to be petty so all I’ll say on the matter is I’m safe, I’m driving back tomorrow at 9am for the day, then presume I’m coming back here at 10pm. Makes sense, I have my own space then for nighttime. Better than a sofa. Apparently, I’m not stable to be around the kids so have to leave at 3.30pm. Amazing. Just plain amazing. And now if I self-harm because of being told that? then I become unstable. And you have yet to ever see me truly unstable.
