KNITMAN

July 21, 2015

GOING WITH THE FLOW

Filed under: Uncategorized — Knitman @ 1:28 pm

I do feel a weight has left me. I had seriously been considering contacting the person I wrote about in my blog post. John thought it a very bad idea. When I thought it through I realised he was right. When he said they had been cruel I thought that was OTT but again he was right. I just was still in denial. Not now.

Denial has got me into a lot of trouble in my life! I was taught well though. I grew up in a family where denial was mandatory. Despite me going into denial through my life, I did eventually break the family rule and thus was excommunicated. Best thing that ever happened to me.

I sit here with my dogs around me, hubby at work until Thursday. I am content again. I know the recent changes are genuine because I can sit and watch tv without being restless, even without knitting, if I choose to. I have never been able to be that relaxed. I have finally let myself off the hook. Accepted where I am. Accepted it all really. No constant battling to force change.

Going with the flow.

via (103) Colin Knitman Andersson-Hamill.

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July 20, 2015

I NEED TO BE MORE DISCERNING

Filed under: Uncategorized — Knitman @ 7:37 pm
I have been thinking a lot about a ‘friendship’ that went down the tubes some time last year. I don’t remember when because I was very ill. This was a relationship with two people lasting about 15 years. I didn’t know what I was feeling this last couple of weeks when I have thought of them daily.
Then I was able to recall what took place. I texted to ask why I had not seen her for a long time when she knew how ill I was. I got ‘I have enough negativity in my life.’ This from someone I sat with, listened to her and her pain and held while she cried. The pain was real. She had much to cry about. It was always at my house because her house was ‘full of men’ and besides she couldn’t share in her house. I understood that.
I was really hurt by her response. My gut twisted. I was so hurt I knew I had to get my wedding album re-done so that I wouldn’t keep being re-hurt every time I saw them. I texted this. I can see clearly how it may have come across as spite. It really wasn’t.
The man left me a really nasty message on my answerphone. It was clear that the woman had lied to him. He thought I didn’t go to their house for a reason he said he knew what it was. He didn’t know. She had not told him it was her choice. I was never invited after ’07 and besides which we did frequently pop in. He then added that from now on he would be polite but I was dead as far he was concerned. I am not sure of the exact words but the intent is the same. As if he thought my friendship would continue with her. The man never did like me. As much as he tried to hide it, he was not comfortable with homosexuals. Ironic when his work is about reducing prejudice and promoting equality. His discomfort could just have been he did not like me. So of course I was uncomfortable around him but it never stopped me trying to get past it.
Anyway, I had been thinking about letting them know how sorry I was with how things went.
Then, sorting it through in my mind, I realised this: they were both very cruel. The threats and lies. The threats particularly were designed to make me paranoid.
All this done to a friend of 15 years who was extremely ill and close to losing the battle all together.
I am glad I allowed myself to think this through and stopped denying the cruelty with which I was treated. I think I have just been missing the friendship I thought I had. There is no way I can ever have any kind of friendship with them. It never was. It never will be.
Another friend I was really hurt by because I knew they had withdrawn from me and every time I brought it up they swore they hadn’t. Yet most contact was initiated from me. I am not daft. I knew their feelings had changed. I did at least get the truth though. They had withdrawn. Why? Because they knew I was getting ill.
I have several females do this. They have were very keen to have a friendship and then somewhere along the line, they cooled and sometimes, in fact mostly, they turned nasty. This one didn’t do that at least. However, from my side, trust has been destroyed and I won’t get that back.
I have John and perhaps 3 friends who accept me as I am and do not desert me at my most vulnerable. However, if John pops his clogs before I do, none of them are able to be anything more than they are now. I love them and they love me it seems. I am not so short sighted that I can’t see how age and disease prevents at least two of them being able to physically help me. Never mind the fact two live far away and only one on my doorstep.
When I die, if John has already gone, I will have no one, except the close by friend, to take care of me and attend my funeral. I am frightened by that.
A whole life time and this is where I am. It is really hard to not think I am at fault. It can’t just be my health that has always put people off. Certainly this time, those I lost coincided with my disease progressing really fast to how it is now because I stupidly fought it and denied that I would get worse. If I continued my life as normal, I could stop it. I now know different.
I have had to accept my disabled status and my dependancy. Dealing with pain 24/7 and then a deep depression which came very close to killing me, then a fall that almost killed me too. (I now know I did knock myself out because what I said happened I made up. I didn’t know I had. It was only when the cleaning lady who told me what happened , did I realise that I filled in the blank spot.) The fall left me shaken, feeling totally dependent, vulnerable and scared.
I was kicked viciously when I was so down I couldn’t get any further down. Friends don’t do that.
It has taken me a long time to stop denying what happened and how I feel about it. It makes me feel very sad. 
And scared.

July 7, 2015

ON SHAKY GROUND

Filed under: Uncategorized — Knitman @ 11:45 pm
This has been the best day since the fall. I think I know why I have been so shaky since it happened 3 weeks. Once again I cheated death. It was totally different than I thought.I wasn’t completely floored until the person who ended helping me told me what I had asked her to do. I had lost a chunk of time. I hit my head several times, really hard. Yet I am still here. Always my damn head. My dads favourite spot. As a boy I also feel about 15ft str8 onto it, was unconscious, spent the night in hospital.
 
I wasn’t completely floored until the person who ended helping me told me what I had asked her to do.The fall also forced me to see how vulnerable I was and I couldn’t carry on as if nothing were wrong with me. I look back over the last 3 years of showing. killing myself with pain, putting myself and others at risk. Was I being stoic? Brave? No. I was still showing my dad that I was not the weak sissy he always said I was that he had no reason to be ashamed of me. I saying look dad, despite the agony and fatigue I am fighting it. I will not become dependent and disabled. I. have had quite enough of his fucking shit. He can have it back. Why on earth would I want to please that monster? A Big Man who beat on very young children. Who was cruel, sadistic, and just plain nasty. And a great liar and actor too.
 
It wasn’t just that old tape though feeding what I was doing. I felt it was grossly unfair that I should survive mentally, emotionally and physically only to find I was becoming disabled. No way! This is NOT going to happen. But now? I accept it. I am defeated. In a good way. I just let it all go. I can deal with this too. This too is not my fault. Half a dozen Drs have said that my ailments are a direct result of the abuse. I suppose living for so long with such fear and torment and physical pain from violence and sexual abuse outside the home is bound to take it’s toll. The evidence is all there.
 
I don’t understand this. I still think it is grossly unfair. But so is a child being born to starve to death grossly unfair. So is the slaughter of 8000 muslim men and boys 20 years ago by Xians in Bosnia. The Holocaust. One can go and complain it is all so unfair.
 
Or one can find out one’s purpose now. Look for the good in it all. The fall was definitely a demarcation line for me. The end of an era and the beginning of new one about which I know nothing. I seem to being pushed to write and write and write. I am sick to death of that suggestion. So I write and write and write. A book? Why? So I can placed among all the other abuse stories that now have their section in the book shops. I find that incredibly distasteful and I now doubt the voracity of those stories. They are a big money industry. Yes, I think some readers may be helped. I also think there are those that get their kicks from being voyeurs to our pain and suffering and so it is know these stories sell. I don’t want to be part of that. I think I reach far more people right here on the ‘net. Much more immediate. And much honest too. No editor. No one to say ‘change this’ ‘change that’ make it more ‘dramatic. ‘No, embellishing is not lying.’
 

July 2, 2015

FEAR

Filed under: Uncategorized — Knitman @ 12:36 pm
John is not a rare man. John is not a rare homosexual man. There are many heterosexual and homosexual men who are just as loving and kind.
Homosexual men and women are just as likely to make excellent husbands and wives to their same sex spouses. It is not rare. Homosexual people do not lack the ability to be loving and faithful and loyal. Far from it. Much more likely to be these things, I would guess, because of a life time of abuse and rejection although these same conditions also damage one’s ability to be these things-just as it does in heterosexual people.
 
Times are changing. Those growing up homosexual now do so in a very different world, at least in western culture. Bigotry is not over and it will take time but that of course it could all change.
 
The Nazi’s didn’t just murder Jews. The far right here if they had power would not just deal with immigrants! No, homosexuals would be dealt with too. Women also. I’ll never understand how supposedly loving caring people end up supporting hatred and death instead of love and life.
 
Fear is behind the spread of this evil. I understand fear all to well. I have managed not to allow it to become hate. I felt fear when I saw the media images of people from far away brazenly forcing their way onto trucks etc coming to the UK. I wasn’t afraid of them. I was afraid of those in my country who lose the ability to think because of the fear they. I am scared of how they will react.
 
One of them was a 14yr old boy who had got to the Port of Calais all the way from Afghanistan!
 
Most of them wrongly believe that the UK is rich and there are jobs aplenty. I don’t disagree that we have too many people, none in particular, on this island and I wonder why France, a HUGE country with a population less than ours last time I looked, do not help.
 
This was all bound to happen. People the world over can now see, via the internet, the vast disparity between us and them. They realise how much we took from them. The see how our wealth came from exploiting them. Now we have what we want, we turn our backs, shut our doors, deciding to live with the fear of what the starving masses might do, and denying the fact that no amount of security is going to stop it. We see daily how the illusion that we are protected is smashed.

June 30, 2015

OH, BOLLOCKS…

Filed under: Uncategorized — Knitman @ 12:14 pm

Some time before I lost the battle to stay in the comfort of sleep (yes, surprisingly, sleep is good and restful, unplagued by fear), I vaguely saw a man in a dark suit putting stuff on my side table which somehow my mind knew was Pepsi Max and my first lot of drugs for the day. He was trying not to wake me and I wasn’t asleep but also not awake. In my memory it is all foggy. I reached my hand out to his, and I think kissed goodbye. I would think it all a dream if it were not for the fact of the drink and drugs next to the bed and John not being here. 

It is but two weeks today since The Fall. It seems longer ago when I think of it now but at times it feels like it was just hours ago. The Fall has irrevocably changed me and my life. I try to ignore tomorrow but it picks at me, like birds in confusion and terror tearing at my skin. I feel it but it is known to me that this is just my fight or flight system firing off and breaking through the pain killers. So much so that John lifts a hand to scratch is ear or something mundane and my body reacts by ducking and beginning to run tho it just starts to fall and John grabs me, effectively keeping me on my feet. He said I should sit and I told him I was okay, that my body just reacted quickly to his movement. I feel bad because he has never hit me in 34 years but my body isn’t reacting to John but to events many years ago. And there are still those who dismiss PTSD (I used to be one). I read the other day that muscles do indeed have memory otherwise we couldn’t make them grow through exercise. All I know is I jumped out of my skin because of the distant past not because of that moment.

I am afraid. I have been all of my life. I have always had adrenalin and cortisol flowing through me, ready to fight or run but unable to do either. I didn’t know any of this at the time. I didn’t even really know I was afraid. I just knew I was bad and weak. I didn’t know I was neither of those things. I didn’t know my brain was doing it’s best to save me. As I could neither run nor fight I shut down, disassociated, depersonalised until I was no longer present. I do this still today. Something triggers it and I am no longer present. John has seen it. Only one friend has seen it and I think she found it eerie but she wasn’t phased and just waited until I came back. She had heard me tell her these things so I think she knew pretty quickly what had happened. 

Fear, it is said, is the opposite of love. I only know that I did not love those I was afraid of. I also knew by the time I was seven that to love meant to be wounded and abandoned all over again but no matter how hard I tried not to I could not help but like or love others and pets. I could not feel loved. I longed for it and this me easy pickings for adults who violated me and told me it was love and as they did not hurt me and touched me gently, I felt safe. And I blocked out the memories of whatever it was that caused the bleeding. I was in my 30’s before this little bombshell exploded and I realised how duped I had been, how foolish. And I knew then what caused the bleeding.

Love and faith and trust and security were all denied me. I had hope to see me through but it was damaging hope. I took the blame and responsibility for it all because then I could imagine myself just getting it right. Right enough to stop the fear and the agony under it.

It was a false hope. In reality I was powerless. I did not know there was nothing I could do, no change I could make, that would stop all of it. It wasn’t me. It was them. I was 50 when I realised that. I was not abused because of who I am but but because of who they are.

Now I am in this dark place yet again. I fought so hard live life regardless and I was going to allow my body to stop me. I really did believe that if I kept active and positive I would not get worse, it would not progress. I was going to be happy and successful dammit. 

I now know this isn’t true and my body did stop me and there is this hole in my life which is full of fear  and I am naked as I reach out for help from a power I don’t understand at all.

I have this awful feeling that I need longer than I have to heal.

June 26, 2015

19:00 Friday 26 06 2015

Filed under: Uncategorized — Knitman @ 6:46 pm

I awoke after deep sleep not disturbed by tendrils of a bad dream reaching out to pull me back into the darkness where my fear is naked and fresh, despite having always been with me. No, the night had been free of that.


Luque, Mary-Grace and Whitney were all on John’s side of the bed. He was up and not there. The room was dark and sultry and I had to call him several times, so loudly I thought I would have a sore throat. 


I bit down on my panic. I couldn’t move, my body as yet refusing to awake despite it’s obvious presence being felt with shards of pain shooting around my body, as if my body were a gaming machine with various areas competing to see which part could hurt the most.


Eventually John appeared. I wanted to scream at him about how he should have his hearing aids in but I resisted. After all he had entered our room carrying my relief, medication, and a bottle of Pepsi Max.


He found the remote that controlled my side of the bed and he handed it to me so I could raise myself into a sitting position. I am feeling low and tearful, my body trembles as it comes to the full cacophony of it’s life.


Slowly I start to swallow my drugs, starting with the small leading up to the large, the final one having to be chewed, once a pleasure now chewed with a plea not to gag.


Now I stayed sitting glad for the slight breeze though the open window and the light brightening my face. I look at John as he stands, side on to me, looking out of the window. I feel a mixture of deep love for him, gratitude for the way he takes care of me without asking and without resentment, and a deep shame toward myself for having become so dependent.  


Teetering on the edge as my tears were, I made them stay put as I told John that all my teenage fears had come true-I was useless and pathetic and the terror of once again ending up being ‘cared for’ in a home only kept at bay with the knowledge that I know how to make sure this never happens. I assume that my husband goes on that journey before I. I don’t want him to live in the shadow of ice that is the cruelty of loss and this only after finding ones way back to the surface and breaking the ice that encases one or there is no fight, no reaching up to the surface in which case I have no idea what would happen. 


I have fought for every breath all of my life and do not know how not to. 


Tiredness brings me to an end. For now. 

December 5, 2014

I WAS WRONG

Filed under: Uncategorized — Knitman @ 3:32 pm

My physical pain has increased a great deal recently. I cannot stand up for more than a few minutes without severe pain from my hips down my legs, both of them. Feeding the dogs has become very difficult because I have to be on my feet for longer than five minutes and by the time I am on to the last two the base of my spine has started to wobble like jelly it is the most peculiar feeling.

The result of this is that I am going to be put on the maximum dose of gabapentin which is for neuropathy and epilepsy although in my case it’s for the neuropathy. I’m also to be given 10 mg tablets of morphine which I’ve only just been taken off to go onto the pink 20 mg tablets and my doctor has told me to take an extra 10 when I am feeding the dogs which means I am going to have to take them an hour before an time it properly. Sometimes I don’t think doctors quite get it. I am just going to have to feed the dogs as normal and hope I get to the last two before I fall.

Yes, I have been falling much more. Only once outside when I went all the way down. This was at the swimming pool. Other times I am with John or talking to someone in Tesco and they grab me when they see part to wobble. People are very kind.

I have been on 200 mg of sertraline for almost 2 weeks now and it has definitely made all the difference. I’m not sure that I’m quite back to Colin yet but I’m close. 200 mg is the highest one can go with this drug so if it doesn’t do the job completely something else will have to be added. I just hope it doesn’t need it. Time will tell. I can’t believe though how much I have changed since I’ve been taking the medication.

I did not believe in depression as an illness before. A lot of the people I knew who were on antidepressants were still flocking depressed or I believe they were just a unhappy or liked to my moan. I thought that antidepressant drugs were a calm designed to make the drug companies billions in profit.

I was absolutely completely wrong. I had never experienced depression until now and it has taught me a great deal. that there is absolutely nothing I could do about it apart from take the medication. It was nothing that I did, it was nothing that happened to me, all the things that did happen to me this year yes caused me to feel grief which is completely different.

With the depression all I wanted to do was die. I lost interest in everything my talents, watching TV, and I could only do the basics for the dogs. I could see absolutely no point to living and I convinced myself that John would be better off without me.

On the day that I decided I was going to take the mixture of morphine and sleeping pills that would work painlessly by stopping my lungs breathing while I was asleep I received an email from my friend Jane and the cause of the time difference between arrived as I was basically counting out the pills. Whilst I have not read any me emails for a while I read hers and she said something in it that I understood and made sense to me.

She told me that depression has a mind of its own and no matter how much I wouldn’t do it because it would hurt John and my friends depression didn’t care and depression would make me do things I wouldn’t normally do and would make me very easily over the top upset by something somebody said and also one comes to believe that no one truly likes m let alone love me. all I was to John was a mill around his neck. I really believed all these things and more.

Thank goodness for friends with insight who could tell just from my Facebook writing that I was severely depressed and not just unhappy and was rightly scared that I was working up to topping myself. Thank goodness for Facebook. Thank goodness for my ability to write as truthfully as I can. I say as truthfully as I can because we can never be completely certain. A good example was some of what I was writing when I was severely depressed-I was writing truthfully as far as I was concerned but what I was writing wasn’t true but because I was in denial I didn’t know that. W

November 8, 2014

SIDEBALL

Filed under: Uncategorized — Knitman @ 10:59 am

 Writing on my blog has been very difficult of late.


I have been suffering from depression and I have tried to hide it. I felt unable to write on here because after all the main reason for writing my blog to help my Fellow survivors.  To share with you how I had recovered from my childhood abuse. Therefore, when I became depressed my first reaction was deep shame and I felt unable to continue to write here. I was writing on Facebook because I was getting instant feedback and it saved my life because two people who knew me and knew how unlike myself I had become and they could read between the lines of what I was saying, that I no longer wanted to live.


This could not have happened on my blog. However I made the fundamental mistake of connecting my depression with my childhood abuse. I have very good GPs and may have explained to me how depression can hit anybody at any time for any reason and to no reason and that it was particularly hard on people like myself who are intelligent and who want to know the ins and outs and the reasons. This has been the most difficult part of this disease. I have no doubt at all now that it is a disease. I started on medication and have gradually increased the dose and I think the next time I see my doctor in two weeks it will be increased once more but that will be the maximum.


Depression can sneak up on you as it did on me. The last 2 1/2 years of my showing dogs that was all I did because I was fighting my disease, my physical disease, which I wasn’t going to allow to beat me. It took all the energy I had. I stopped knitting I stopped reading  I stopped everything but swimming. Because all I could do was sleep and bath and groom dogs. I eventually realised I had to stop.


This could well have been the trigger for the depression but and this is the difficult part to understand it is not the reason I am depressed. I have come to terms with the dog showing and I am glad that I no longer do it it is such a relief for me to not do it any more. What is much more telling of my depression is the fact that I do not die yarn or knit any more because I can’t find my muse for it.When a person stops doing the the things they love, like I have also stopped listening to music, this is another sign that one may be depressed.


Depression is NOT having an off day feeling miserable. It isn’t feeling down for a day or a few days. It is like being swallowed by a big dark cloud and one is trapped. One often wakes, if one can sleep, in tears. Or one doesn’t get up at all, stays in pj’s, take care of washing themselves, cleaning their teeth etc.It is barely being able to do anything. I have dogs so I have had to feed them. And let them in and out of the garden so I have not been able to stay in bed duvet diving.


I fear that I may have given the impression that once recovered from child, abuse, it was all over and done with. Though I feel sure I must said that there is no no getting over it, just learning to live with it. I don’t think I ever covered depression because it never came up. Well now it has and so I am sharing it with with you. 


It is NOT a sure sign of abuse and isn’t even a necessary apart of abuse or recovery. It can just happen as it did with me.


I always said I would be honest here and I have avoided being so. Well, now I have been. I am still depressed, depressed enough that I still considered a suicide risk but I have a lot of support and self knowledge and knowledge in general so I am safe.


None of this means that my recovery from abuse was fake or that what I have been sharing with you is fake. It just means I was hit in the head by something I was not expecting.

November 4, 2014

LIFE WITH A WONKY BRAIN

Filed under: Uncategorized — Knitman @ 9:59 am

I have put our holiday forward yet again this time to 22 February. I realise that 4 January is only eight weeks away and my antidepressants have not settled yet and my eating is not settled yet and I generally am not settled yet. As usual I always think I can do too much too soon. We’re still ahead financially because we only had to pay an extra 200 bearing in mind that we’d already been refunded 800.


Last night in bed I suddenly realised I had not taken my nighttime set of pills which are important because they are for my liver and my heart and my brain I started the process of getting up and John said you stay there while going get them and he was gone before I had time to argue but when it came back I said to him why do you do that? I can go and get my own tablets!  he said the kindest thing in reply: I hate to see you struggled to get out of bed when it is much easier for me to just go down and get your pills and get back and you’d still be struggling to get out of bed.  I hadn’t even thought of that because I just take my “problems” as part of my daily life and I don’t think about them and for two nights a week and days a week I have to deal with myself anyway. I’m afraid I would not be as kind as him not because I am mankind but because I just wouldn’t think in the way that he thinks.   I nag at him about his hearing aids  but for completely selfish reasons. When he is not wearing them he does not speak loudly enough for me to hear and I also have to shout at him for him to hear me and I get very tired of that very soon.  It is also dangerous for him to not wear them because he can’t hear traffic coming at the   Zebra Crossings. he thinks they will just stop but he is not a driver and doesn’t realise that we often don’t have the stopping distance that he gives it is taking quite a while to get him to act set his hearing loss fortunately we have a very good audio system and I bought him Grado PS500’s  headphones. Yet again I must have foreseen the problems that were going to arise. I can’t believe we were both sick during the week of the holiday we had booked and that I moved to January and they have now moved to February. But that move is just more sensible for me to give me enough time to get well properly.


 I do read and take in everything that is written on here even though it appears that I haven’t. It just takes some time for the penny to drop with me I can’t just read something and change just like that I have too slowly digest it and understand it.  it can take some concepts months to settle into my brain but once it has it has the good and I no longer make that same mistake. I think also because I have followed ill given advice before but I am very wary of it now because I have believed some utter shirt in the past because I have looked up to people while I don’t look up to people any more and I don’t look down on people any more I look at their eyes. Even beggars on the street I make eye contact with whether I give them anything or not. The eye contact is to show them that I recognise that they are a human being just the same as me but in different circumstances. I do try to keep to the point honestly you should hear me when I’m talking I go all round the world back. So anyway I just wanted to let you know that your messages of encouragement never go ignored even if I forget to click like it’s not because I dislike them if I did I have a dislike button I can press.


On the subject of stubbornness: I thought my hands were feeling better and so I started to net a pair of socks on 2 mm needle is after 20 times of having to undergo it having not been able to get past the first two rows. And yet my toes on 2.25 mm needle is went like a dream. So I guess 2 mm needles are no longer a viable option for me and that really does upset me. Only knitters would understand this. 

October 27, 2014

GETTING THERE A DAT AT A TIME

Filed under: Uncategorized — Knitman @ 8:15 pm
We have just taken Luque to the vet because we believe he is becoming senile because he is behaving rather oddly. The vet says he is otherwise healthy and he now has tablets to take twice a day which will ensure that plenty of blood gets to his head and see if that makes any difference to his behaviour. he seems quite happy within himself but as just behaved oddly and he did seem to have trouble with his balance on Sunday and sometimes he looks pretty vacant. I think nine years old is a bit young for something like this to happen but it might not be senility but something else which I don’t like to think about and like human beings dogs get things the same as we do and it’s not all hereditary it’s just life and sometimes life isn’t smooth and comfortable and happy as we would wish so we would just make the best of it or sit and cry from the rest of it which is not just pathetic but a complete lack of any self worth and strength. It’s not fair we are people scream. Well life isn’t fair and we just have to get on with it.
I am surprised how quickly I got over the troubles with my friends and it’s because I realised that they weren’t friends at all and that she had just been using me as a sounding board. Dick head hear loved her and saw her through the many problems that she has had and don’t get me wrong they have been serious her death mute son developing epilepsy see developing breast cancer losing a grandchild and she is to come over to me and talk to me about all this over coffee and have a cry and then she would leave and the reason she came to me was good she didn’t want me at our house because she wanted to be away from the man however that is not what she told her husband on Monday. she said I wouldn’t go to their house because it was too difficult for me. This when he called and threatened me I knew then that I had been right about him all along and also unfortunately right about her role along.
This is going to prove rather expensive because we are having to have our wedding album redone to remove both of them from it. Not out of spite but because I do not want to be reminded of them every time I look at a book that is supposed to bring back just the happiest day of my life and not remind me each time what a decade I was in letting her be one of my witnesses and not following my gut a long time previous that she wasn’t really a friend but because of her problems and her cancer I just felt too guilty to cut her out of my life. I got what I got because I didn’t do the right thing out of fear. And I often find I don’t do the right thing out of fear. I am learning though. I have defended people who I know don’t give a toss about me because they haven’t written at all during my illness and there can’t be anybody who doesn’t know about it. I find it very strange that the most support I’ve got the most loving and caring support that I have got has mainly been through people I don’t know and befall those who get upset with me that I do know I am fully aware of your loving support as well. I truly appreciate all of you but I still must give the Goldstar to Jane Kruizenga Brown because she really did save my life and that is not an exaggeration she explained depression as a disease in a way that she knew I would understand and she was right. I don’t like to boast but I am a very over intelligent person I say over intelligent because being well above average in intelligence is flocking pain. My doctor fortunately accepts it and never tries to fob me off because she knows I will only go and look it up. I read a lot on physics and the like and so Jane understood that if she explained to me in a simple but scientific way I would get it and I did get it loud and clear and within an hour of her phone call I had my first script and soon after that I had my first antidepressant. They were the wrong one from me but I only took them two days and on the third day I took the right one. And you can all see the change it is made in me. It isn’t magic I’m not flying around and I’m still having down days but they are further apart and mostly I feel fairly normal for me.
Anyway I am off to the pool now love to all xoxo a
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