I had another pretty shit night’s sleep.
My dreams continued from the night before – the same guy who I went home with the night before was back again. There was a really disgustingly dirty kitchen, lots of freezers to defrost because the ice tasted like food, and loads of printers that didn’t work properly, including a scanner that apparently belonged to one of my exes from 10+ years ago.
I decided that I would get up and dressed. Maybe not go completely gung-ho with my day, but at least start getting back to being a bit more productive.
After I’d showered, got dressed and had breakfast, my mum and I went for a walk so she could pick up some more fabric to make scrubs for carers. There was a little bag with her name on it, which had all the materials and pattern that she needs to make a set of scrubs. It’s all a very slick operation. You just walk up to the house, and pick up or drop off things using the relevant boxes that are on the pavement.
There’s a lot of talk now in the media about how to lift lockdown.
Tbh, I’m really nervous about it.
It’s quite selfishly reassuring atm to know that I’m not missing out on anything and that everyone is stuck at home in the same boat as me. I am aware of how selfish it is, but honestly, right now I’d be quite happy if this continued forever.
I have no idea what I am going to do when the lockdown is lifted. It will be time to start moving house, and moving back to the city, which is a really daunting prospect. Atm it’s quite comfortable that there’s nothing I can possiblydo about that, even if I wanted to.
I actually like lockdown.
After our walk, I caught up with my writing, as I hadn’t picked up my laptop in days (except for to watch Netflix, obvs).
It felt good to get a load of my chest and my thoughts straight in my head.
I also enjoy keeping people in the loop. It seems that a lot of people care about me, and have been worrying about me. It’s a really simple one-shot way to keep everyone up to date with how I’m doing with my recovery.
Today our Prime Minister Boris Johnson had a baby. So, he’s been back literally one day, and now he’s probably going on some kind of paternity leave. Ha!
For lunch my mum had made scrambled eggs, and I knew I had to finally give in and accept what has happened to my body. I asked if I could have something else, because it’s too frustrating to eat them atm. I have developed quite the tremor due to my medications.
I can’t lift a fork or drink to my mouth without shaking, and doing my makeup has become almost impossible. It’s really frustrating.
I don’t know if it’s permanent, or if it’s something that will die down, but I really hope I can get rid of it one way or another. I keep thinking how debilitating it will be when I return to work. I physically cannot serve pints like this. I’ll just be spilling shit all over the place.
In the afternoon, I read RuPaul’s book ‘GuRu’ that my mum bought me a while ago. It took me like literally 20 minutes because most of the pages are just pictures of her face. There was a bit in there about loving yourself, meditation etc, but also interspersed with makeup tips, which made it feel a bit fluffier and more superficial than an actual self-help book. I was expecting something deeper.
I also decided to dip my toe in the water, and see how one goes about getting a book published.
I feel like what I’ve written here is pretty unique, and maybe some folk would be interested in reading it. The feedback I’ve had from you followers has been overwhelmingly positive, and I am forever grateful for that.
I asked my mum to send over my entries, as it turns out she’s been copying and pasting them in to a word document in case I impulsively deleted my website (she knows me so well). My plan is to go back and read it from the start.
Proof reading is the first step to getting anything published, but more so than anything, it will be interesting to see how far I’ve come, and remind myself of all of the progress that I’ve made. Maybe then it’s time to crack out my workbooks again, and finally continue the psychological work I was doing in hospital.
The group chat was popping off in the late afternoon, with my ex contributing quite a bit. I dropped him a message to see how he was because we hadn’t spoken for a couple of days.
He said he was fine, but then he didn’t ask how I was.
The conversation just ended there.
That stung a bit, but I have to remember that it is such early days for us rebuilding our friendship. I’m sure that in time he will want to talk to me rather than just fending me off, which is what it feels like atm.
Time is the greatest healer.
In the evening I decided to watch The Great British Sewing Bee with my parents again, like I had the week before, and I really enjoyed spending time with them. I will definitely have to do it more often, rather than just locking myself away alone in my room (even though that’s what the government says I should be doing…). It was good to comment on the show together, and just have light conversation about something that’s not the virus, lockdown, or my mental health. Good to have a bit of bantz.
I said that I remembered my Dad having a silk kimono like dressing gown, and he was adamant that he had never owned one. I told him that it had a dark paisley print, and my mum was like ‘omg yes you did! That was in the 80’s!’. They were like, how the fuck do you remember these things?? I so wish I knew how my weird brain worked. They said they did too. Ha!
I watched an episode of Drag Race before I went to bed. I actually felt good before I went to sleep, and like my cares weren’t weighing as heavily on my mind as they ordinarily would.