I’m finding it very hard to even drag myself out of
bed at the moment (and by ‘bed’ I mean the folded over duvet on my sofa). Life seems to have very little meaning for
me, having no money, no income, no job, no voluntary work and no one to talk to
(and I mean really talk to). I don’t want to inconvenience my friend
because I no longer do the work we used to do together and we don’t really have
any mutual interests as we tend to fall back into talking about the work I used
to do with him which does nothing but depress me further.
I’ve been seen by the Crisis Resolution Home Treatment
team every couple of days for the past two or three weeks (time really doesn’t
mean a lot to me right now) but all they have done is upset me each time they’ve
visited and the last three times I’ve ended up in tears. I know they are trying their best but I’ve
kind of given up now. I’ve asked them to
find a doctor who will help me die because I know I’m not going to be able to
kill myself.
Dad’s cancerous polypus has still not been
removed. Apparently the operation is
going to be a larger affair than the doctor previously believed it would be
because they cannot distinguish between the ‘gunk’ (obviously a technical
medical term) and the polypus in the area of the growth so they are unable to
find the root of the polypus without an MRI scan and another CT scan. So, Dad has had to wait longer for the
operation than was first thought which is worrying Mum so I can’t really burden
her with my problems.
The MRI scan is being done today at some point so that’s
some relief for my parents although Dad is having to take a tranquiliser
because he felt claustrophobic last time he had an MRI. If it’s successful, the CT scan should be
done in the next few days followed soon after by the operation.
Merlin, my beloved cat, has had two seizures in the
last two weeks so the stint in hospital I wanted isn’t going to happen because
I need to be here for him. I couldn’t be
in hospital while he’s having seizures because I’d be too worried about
him. I’m not sure how long he’s got left
and I can’t miss more time with him than I can help.
My applications for the part-time jobs at Lakeside
have all gone unanswered and they have disappeared from the website so I know I
haven’t got any of them. I haven’t given
up trying to get a job though as I put my CV into the local Cash Generator shop
in town for a part-time job there. It’s
not the kind of job I’d really want to do but beggars can’t be choosers.
Last Friday was my 43rd birthday and I was
more miserable than ever. A lack of hope
and prospects can do that for a person.
The only plus was that Diana managed to buy me a present – the sixth
season box set of Bones – but even
watching that didn’t raise my mood by much.
On Tuesday, our divorce went before the court. We haven’t received any paperwork yet and
neither of us could attend but I’m sure they will have granted it so I’m now
officially a divorced, penniless depressive with no hope, no future and no one
to share my life with. All that needs to
happen now is for my ex-wife and I to find separate accommodation and I’m
officially the stereotypical old fart with no one except the characters that
populate my mind from stories I can’t get written down.
My life sucks...
No comments:
Post a Comment