I woke up at 3AM and took some more sedating meds again. I stirred several more times, but no more upsetting dreams, which makes all the difference.
Had a pretty unremarkable morning playing on my tablet, watching Netflix, and catching up with some writing.
After lunch, my mum and I decided to drive somewhere for exercise.
I’m not sure what made her choose it, but she decided to take me to a trinity of Holy Wells in villages north of our hometown.
The first was at a church in the middle of nowhere.
The well itself was pretty unimpressive, and I was annoyed to have stood in some dog shit.
But the church was in a lovely setting. It was strange to be out in such open fields, rather than enclosed in the woods.
It was the first time I have left my hometown in nearly 8 weeks.
It was really nice to see two old ladies who’d just been dropped off separately sitting and having a catch up on two individual benches.
I really needed a wee, so I went in the bushes.
First time I’ve done that in ages.
Reminded me of being pissed in the park as a teenager, or at music festivals.
Our next well was in the middle of a town.
There were groups of people having picnics there, and my mum and I stuck out like a sore thumb (convertible car, green hair, big white sunglasses). It also reminded me of my friends back home, and how they’re probably meeting up all together outdoors.
What am I missing out on?
I wanted to get out of there. So, my mum took me to the final well, which was the most impressive.
After that though, I really wanted to go home.
I’d done far too much. My brain just couldn’t take it.
When I got back to the house, I went straight to my room, and stayed there pretty much until dinner time. My mum came to see me and ask if I was OK. I said I’d just overdone it, and probably could have just made do with the trip to the church. She agreed.
We had fajitas for dinner, I spent some time watching Netflix in my room, and then I watched Gogglebox with my parents.
My mum and I had a small glass of wine each. She said that that was all she had in the fridge. It was all I wanted anyway.
I went upstairs, and then came back downstairs to make some toast because I realised that I was hungry.
I saw that my mum was sitting there with a big glass of wine.
Immediately my mind jumped to the conclusion that she had been lying to me, and hiding a bottle until I went to bed so that I wouldn’t be able to have more than one glass.
We actually had a bit of an argument about it.
I accused her of lying, and she got really offended. She offered me some, but I said I didn’t want any.
It wasn’t about the wine, it was the principle of it.
Turns out that she’d fancied some more after I’d gone to bed, so had got some more out of the garage and chilled it down super quick in a cold sleeve. She hadn’t been hiding a bottle from me.
After I’d had my toast, I made a point of going back downstairs with my plate to say goodnight to my parents. I didn’t feel good about the way I’d left things.
I was so paranoid though. And so grumpy. So irritable.
I had been since I got back from our drive.