He's gone back to sodding Oop North. I feel like I've been kicked in the stomach, it's winded me, as it always does.
I'm also extremely on edge, as the council tax c*nts have sent me a lovely letter informing me that, whoop-de-doo, the bailiffs are coming for my meager possesions. Good luck flogging my battered books, oversized dreamcatcher and graffitied rubber duck. Touch my laptop and I'll bite your f*cking hand off. I'm mental, donchanooooo???
Grrr. I'm a student. They told me I had been removed from the council tax list. Chase my ex-housemates for the £53.43 that we apparently owe you. I've lost so much money over that sodding house, not to mention been fired, and had a severe relapse of depression. I can't take any more of this shit. Hence, my Connexions PA got a rather incoherant text begging her to sort it out. She is rather useful. Otherwise, I think I would have gone on a bulk-buying mission of paracetemol and vodka. Bye bye liver!
My Nan has decided she is dying. I'm not very impressed.
She has heart failure, and they are giving her lots of medications which seem to interact badly, and also slow her pulse. I checked it before she took the pills, and it was under 50 bpm. This, coupled with her hallucinating ["there's little furry weasels running around the living room", apparently] meant that I've lost faith in Middle-Of-Nowhere's medical team.
I blame myself. I do that with everything, but especially this. Since I moved back to London 18 months ago, she has gone from independant to housebound. I can't believe how much her health and spirit have declined. This was a woman who would go to Alice Cooper concerts with me, and the only alcohol she touched was straight vodka.
I'm also angry. How dare you threaten to die on me? You're my Nan, you practically brought me up, and I still need you. You ain't going nowhere, missy.
Mainly, I keep crying. I can't even phone her, because we both end up sobbing down the phone.
Argh. Apologies for the disjointed post.
Shrink was his usual self, eg. asked a few questions and did absolutely nothing. Oh, and he said he'll transfer me to another Shrink, because I've moved. He said that in August too.
Right, I need to wash my hair, because my new fringe is greasing itself to my forehead. Uggghhhhh. I am rather gross right now. My guinea pig Paddi left me with some lovely scratches on my chest, because it rained when she was in the garden, and she hates being soggy. I must bath tonight. I have clean bedsheets, so if I don't bath, I'm sleeping on the floor.