4 x 200mg Pregablin
3 x 30mg Codiene
2 x 5mg Valium
1 x Beer/Cider/Rum/Wine
In shorts and a vest, freezing outsie with the window open blowing the freezing air on me.
Lights off.
Bella sleeping next to me.
Thats the cat.
None of which I can do in this motel while they find me a place to live.
But that is as close as to perfection I’ll ever get for real relaxation.
I have issues.
I think the technical word for it is separate. Then once the paperwork comes through and it’s all official with the courts then it’s Divorce. Unless someone contests it when the divorce paperwork comes through. I wouldn’t do something like that, would I? Not like someone went off and had an affair before the paperwork or even a notice of being divorced.
So for that to make any sense I’ll give you an exciting look at my marriage and personal life:
Met in 2007
Together in 2010
Sort of, sort of not 2011
Together in 2012
Married in 2015
Separated in 2023
The longest relationship I have ever had actually. D had been married before, she had an affair with me and I cheated on what would be R’s mum with D. 2011 is and was the most fucked up year of my life, the lies I made, the things I did and the people saw. Madness. There was always one constant and that was D. She was pure in my mind, a candle flame that can’t be blown out because that would make the world a darker place. Day two of divorce she blew her candle out.
I should have been there more. I should have given her what she needed.
No one wins in a breakup. Well, maybe those with friends they keep in reserve.
So single. I’ve sworn off women for now. For a long while. I heard once was one year of a relationship is equal to one month of getting over. So we’ll go for 2012, 11 months to get over the relationship. That’s fair. About the same as the hospital said my recovery would be. I still don’t understand the recovery period. Does that mean that I am miraculously going to be able to walk without searing back pain? Oh, I was quite actually impressed. I went to the garage next door which has a shop built in, I was struggling with the basket, walking about. My back was in complete agony. I got to the till and I swear I was going to ask them for a chair. Thankfully the guy took my shopping bagged it for me and put the basket back. It’s things like that that help. I managed to get back to the motel, room and then I faceplanted on the bed for ten minutes.
I’ll have to have a look online and see if there are some exercises that I can do with my back or if it’s just keep walking till it improves. I do walk every day now. Maybe a gym with a running machine. I can hold onto the sides if I need to and then start at level one again and try. I’ll ask my social worker if they have any offers on gyms. Or a discount as I’ll just be using one machine.
Oh yeah talking about relationships. Yup, this was the longest one. Since I’m 40 my options are pretty limited unless I make it big with Bitcoin, lottery or good looks & hypnotism. Of which I have none. So I’ll exist until Allah/God/Chukulu puts someone in my path.
Who am I kidding? A photocopy of D would be awesome. She was perfect and I lost her. Stupid body.
God. I could do with a bottle of wine or two. Never thought in my life I would ever be craving wine. Most normal men crave beer, buy it, drink it, sleep. I wish it was simple. But wine is the weapon of choice. Or rum. Rum, I can drink from the bottle. Although is nicer with ice and a snifter of coke. Snfiter. Coke. They probably belong in a sentence somewhere but not here, I am not a snifter of coke. Never have, never will. Pharmaceuticals is a different game. That is one that I abuse with hilarious consequences. And it’s all legal as well:
Risperidone, twice a day.
Sertraline, two in the morning.
Promazine, four times a day.
Procyclidine, twice a day.
Propranolol, three times a day.
Cyclizine, three times a day,
Pro Banthine, four times a day,
Codeine, up to four times a day as needed,
Pregabalin, three times a day
Diazepam 5mg, once a day
Diazepam 2mg, three times a day
So 31 tablets. In a day. #FML
Home
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.
The little girl sat on the curb, her suitcase next to her. She had been waiting for hours, but her parents hadn’t come.
She didn’t know why they had left her. She had been a good girl, she had done everything they had asked of her. But it hadn’t been enough.
She was scared. She didn’t know where she was going to go or what she was going to do. She just knew that she was all alone.
She started to cry. She cried for her parents, she cried for herself, and she cried for the future that she didn’t know if she would have.
A woman walking by saw the little girl crying and stopped. “What’s wrong?” she asked.
The little girl told her the story, and the woman listened. When the little girl was finished, the woman said, “Don’t worry, sweet heart. I’ll help you.”
The woman took the little girl to her house and gave her a place to stay. She helped the little girl find a new school and make new friends. And she helped the little girl heal from the pain of abandonment.
The little girl never forgot the woman who helped her. She knew that she would never have been able to get through that time without her.
The house was dark and silent. The only sound was the ticking of the clock in the hallway.
The man sat in his living room, alone. He had been alone for a long time, and he was starting to get used to it.
But tonight, he felt different. Tonight, he felt the loneliness creeping in.
He looked around the empty room, and he felt a chill run down his spine. He knew he wasn’t alone.
Something was watching him.
He could feel its eyes on him, even though he couldn’t see it.
He tried to ignore it, but he couldn’t. The feeling of being watched was too strong.
He stood up and started to pace the room. He was scared, but he didn’t know what to do.
He felt like he was going crazy.
He finally couldn’t take it anymore. He ran out of the house and into the night.
He didn’t stop running until he couldn’t run anymore.
He collapsed on the ground, exhausted and scared.
He closed his eyes and wished that he wasn’t alone.
Is there a grudge, a pain that you are holding on to?
…Why are you holding on to it?
…Is it time to let it go?
Grudges and pain. hmm. They do go together very well. I don’t know if anyone has any against me, but if they did I would want to meet and talk about it. No fighting but just a chance to explain anything I made have done.
My biggest pain is my brother. I feel so sorry for him and the trap that alcohol has laid itself out for him. He gets in touch now and again. Sometimes money, sometimes loneliness, or some form of connection we still have. It all fell apart when Mum died. Dickhead took all the drugs he could find and deal with it that way. As mentioned prior I knew it was going to happen so my reaction was just to live life as normal. I was squatting in a house whilst I and D took a break. The council found me a flat, and I raided the local stores for bits of it. Mum would have loved it, it was on a high rise with a balcony. Things were chaotic then. I had to drive to Wales pretty much every day to help with Dad or dickhead thinking the neighbors were attacking,
So yeah we went our separate ways really. He stayed with Dad occasionally before leaving the country, and dad, and disappeared. I then had to step up my efforts to go. It was getting too much for me to handle. He was diagnosed with Dementia. That really didn’t help. I got the council involved and they laid on some carers for him. 3 times a day, every day at first. But I still came, took him to the local shopping area, and drank coffee.
The pain I hold is. Where was he? why couldn’t he help me? he’s missing dad being a dad before dementia took its hold. I had to work and travel 3hrs a day, sort all the bills, paperwork, cleaning, careers, doctors, and hospital visits whilst he just “took off””. I don’t hate that I had to do those things. I just hated doing it alone and not as a family.
The next grudge is a weird one. Not sure if the world is ready for that one yet.
I’ll talk about something that I find stupid.
You won’t find it stupid because you are normal.
Well maybe not since you are reading a blog filled with voidness.
So here it is…
I miss having friends and being close to them.
I’m painfully aware it’s due to my lack of leaving the house, social weirdness, and whatever is wrong with me. I start conversations in Messenger but get one answer replies and it feels distant. I have my best friend O who lives in Sheffield which is about 1.5 hours from here in the car. Not that far. Happy to go. Not happy to go outside. Rubbish thoughts. Stop talking. I know I’m not his best friend. I always have to text him and he never randomly texts me back. We used to live near each other in Wales. Every Friday we would meet up. We would talk. We would put on music and we would have a good time. Now I’m lucky to get a message once a year without me prodding him.
I don’t know what to do. Is there a book on how to act normal in society because I must be doing something wrong to lose all my friends. I have my D and she is truly my best friend but I need other friends to vent to and not dump on her all the time.
There must be an app where you can meet up with people who are also social…… argh. I’d settle for an online friend. Someone I can talk to. Someone who can tell me things that make the badness seem less bad.
Like I said. Stupid.
