More MOT stuff…

So, I had my assessment with the ITalk service. It was quite positive. Obviously with sooo much wrong with my headspace, we could only skim across most of it. A few things that became clear very quickly are: not only have I got more wrong with me than I realised, but half the coping mechanisms suggested I’m already aware of and have been using for some time. No doubt it has helped somewhat but I still feel like I need someone totally objective that doesn’t know me to open up to. I seriously need to unpack so many things in my mind. My hope is that I can put a lot of my psychological issues to bed finally. I’m not under any illusions that I’ll magically be fixed and be fine, but if I don’t try and get help, it can only end badly. That much I am sure of.

I’m stood on the car park corner again today contemplating my psychological state. Can’t listen to music or podcasts as my battery won’t last the shift. Seems a good time to get some thoughts down.

I’m looking forward to talking to a proper psychiatrist. It will be the first time, but I know exactly what I want to tell them initially. The important thing is how they will ask me questions that make me think and indeed come to my own conclusions as much as the things they will suggest. I don’t know if you have any experience of this dear reader, but as much as it can potentially unlock traumatic past events, just the way you are asked the questions make you think and have your own revelations. Seems that if your mind thinks you thought of it, it sticks better. I’m not sure how else to phrase it at the moment.

So I’m sat in Costa yet again. There are thunderstorms rumbling around. Fortunately I avoided the torrential rain. Some of my colleagues weren’t so lucky, bless them.

I’m not sure what I’ll do this afternoon, but I haven’t played guitar for days, possibly over a week! Can’t let all the last years work go to waste. It’s less anti social blasting it out in the afternoon rather than ten/eleven pm. See what happens.

I was watching a random stream Robb did last night. He was just chilling and writing lyrics. In the middle of it, the news hit that the original drummer for slipknot, Joey, had died. It was surreal watching Robb react to the news. Obviously gutted but that was a moment not to be forgotten.

That was a few days ago and now it’s Monday morning.

Yesterday was hard. My Princeling is at his sisters helping her move into her new flat. He left Saturday morning. It’s one thing being in the house when he is out with friends, or even staying at a friends, it’s quite another, not even being in the same town. No background thoughts about when he is home or what I’ll do for his dinner.

So yesterday (Sunday) morning, I was tidying my bedroom and I came across an envelope. It had My Lady’s name on it and “Lock of hair.” I had asked the funeral parlour to take a lock for me, however it went missing not long after I took it home.

I paused before opening it. This is the only thing left of My Lady. I took the lock out and just stared at it for a while. Then I stroked it against my check. Intense. I’m glad I found it though. I’d have loved it if I could still smell her on it but having been in an envelope for over a year, any scent would be long gone.

So I now find myself on the same position at work that I was on when I started this post. As uneventful as it is here, I can spend some time contemplating and processing the weekends events.

I need to chase up ITalk. I just remembered that they were supposed to be emailing me at the end of last week. Not a good sign. I also need to get my other vaccinations done. Oh well, at least it’s all moving forward.

Later friends. X