Phase 567.4. Complete…

I just got a call from my Princeling to ask me to drop off his first proper cv. He says his friend got him a job in a burger place. I’m impressed. Everyone who starts in a working kitchen is basically a dogs body. Not what I expected from him. Honestly that takes a weight off my shoulders that I didn’t even know was there. Obviously I put major pressure on myself, not only to do the right thing by our children, but to do the right thing by My Lady. High standards indeed. She is a legend… You have no idea! I’ve started cutting myself some slack on that front. How could I ever life up to My Lady’s standards? Even the children have said to me I need to let that go. You’ll just stress yourself out. And they agree that no one could live up to that. I’d never want to, let alone be able to replace her.

I still haven’t had a good look at the lock of hair the funeral parlour saved me. Had a quick peek and… Nope. Not yet…

I keep being told “Oh you look better. You’re doing really well.” How would anyone know how I’m doing if they haven’t been through this? Pray you never do. The Cosmos didn’t give me the choice. What do I do, give up on the kids and our fur babies and just end up dead in a gutter somewhere? Of course not. It’s amazing what the brain can do when it has too. I think it has less to do with ones cognitive ability to cope than the autopilot most of us have in the face of trauma/tragedy.

Whatever… The point is I just can’t get over being told I’m ok. I’m not f***ing ok. I’m even starting to resent it. How dare they think I’ve coped with it. I’m not supposed to. Oh I don’t know… I’m just sick of the whole thing as you can imagine. As I was in town dropping off my Princeling’s CV, I thought ‘Sod it, another Costa and blog.’

Nearly got triggered when entering the shopping mall. I have so many memories here. All the times buying Lush for My Lady when we were here… All the jewellery I purchased for her here… I just want to cry my eyes out again but again, like earlier, I’m not doing it here. Thanks to the drugs (I think) I’m able for the most part to squash it down.

As I’m writing this, my left pinky and ring finger are tingling and going numb. Not had that for quite a while. And just after me blogging about how the symptoms have gone. Fml dear reader, really? Guess I’ll be calling the doctor too. I’m not even crying at the mo, so that’s a bit more of a concern. Again, only for my loved ones. I couldn’t bear the thought of the effect of my dying on my loved ones… Horrific! But again, it’s not about me. I find it very strange to be so motivated to look after myself when I really don’t give a damn if I end up…

For the record, I don’t always feel like this. Just with the constant battering from people dying, getting sick or whatever it’s exhausting. My Dad cracked a joke about his passing recently. He always did. Not funny any more. I roasted him so much for that.

In short I’m f***ing done with people dying around me.

Last smoke before bed. It’s been a long day. My Princeling had issues with his bike this evening and had to walk home which meant he was really late back. After all the stress of my gay best friend being a stubborn old goat, I was really worried. Unnecessarily so as he had a few good friends with him. Still…

Currently listening to Reign in Blood by Slayer. That never gets old. Those riffs… I think it’s time to tune the Jackson down to Eb and play some proper Thrash. Think I’ll finish learning the album. Only been 30 years!

At the suggestion of a couple of friends I started a YouTube channel to document my progress with my new learnings. It’s bloody awful at the moment but that’s half the point. Analysing my playing that way has really helped. Another case of hubris too but you know what? I really don’t care on this one. I’m even writing a song called “I am the storm.” I don’t think it will be a ballad. Dark and moody. Probably tune down to D or even lower. Kind of a cross between Black Sabbath and Slayer with a splash of Morbid Angel. Funny…