So… I’m in week two of visiting on my own. You may recall I was absolutely terrified at the prospect of having so much responsibility. True enough though, it does get a lot easier after a while. The office are also being nice to me and giving me relatively easy clients. I’ve not met a single client that didn’t like me. Interesting. So on a personal level, I’m smashing it. It’s the really serious stuff that scares me a little. Still, I’ve had no complaints or bollockings so all seems well. I hate getting up at half five though. Half hour drive and starting at 7am. Owch! Anyway, I’m done for the day, got behind a bit but my last visits were quite close to home. I’ve been trying not to be frivolous with my money recently but I deserve a reward for today. Ha! I keep telling myself that. Still I haven’t eaten all day so whatever. I’m actually earning money again too so no need for munch guilt. I’ll finish up in McDonald’s and go home for my post work bath. As you can imagine, being a domiciliary care worker, I feel grim by the time I get home every time. As soon as I get in, I strip, throw my clothes in the wash and have a bath. Just… The thought of… Eww!

I’m sat in the waiting room while my MOT is being done. I know it’s going to fail as I have an airbag light on. That’s not what worries me. It’s the rest. I need this car to be a cheap fix or I’m screwed. Last thing I need to do is have to dip into the savings for a new car. Why does everything have to be so difficult? In theory, it shouldn’t be too bad. One tyre and the airbag light hopefully. I changed the brake pads last year, so they will be fine. My front shocks aren’t as good as they were, hopefully they won’t fail.

I’m supposed to be starting on my own with my new job tomorrow. I don’t think I’ll ever be ready. The only way to find out is to stop bitching and pontificating and get on with it. Ugh… such an effort to do anything right now. How the hell I keep going I have no idea. I’ve said that a lot this year. I never have an answer to that one. Not sure I ever will.

I don’t want to pop over the road to my old place of work. Much as I have a fair few friends there, I don’t want reminding of the security I lost. Ugh… I feel so pathetic right now.

I agreed to leave the back door key out back as My Princeling has lost his key. I forgot. It’s hammering down. Ugh… again. Such a shit parent. Unless they condemn my car, I’ll be back in time but that’s not the point.

They should be nearly done with the car by now. More anxiety. I just want to zoom forward a month or two and dispense with the transition. Or find a very local full time job with an hour for lunch. That would be easier on my head. I’m still looking. Seems silly not to. Something will come up. The good thing about the nursing job is they fit you in with your life routine. Not that I have one of course. That’s half the problem. Mot wasn’t too bad. CV boot and the airbag light along with a couple of tyres. Could have been a lot worse.

Another three anniversaries in the next couple of months. Halloween would have been our 13th civil wedding anniversary. 21st November, my step mums passing. Two days before Christmas when we lost the Darkest of Stars, bless him.

Christmas will be horrific. What will we even do? Roast dinner, maybe some cards, a movie or two. The whole time torn up by My Lady not being with us. It will be intense for all of us. Chances are, we won’t even be able to visit anyone. Maybe even Precious won’t be able to come home. The second wave has moved on to the surfing world championships and various cities are going into full lockdown one by one.

I’m getting scared about the pandemic again. At least two of my friends have had it. Precious’ friends have it. She is waiting on her test results. It’s getting closer and closer to home. Nearly 22,000 new cases in the last 24 hours. It’s out of control again and we all know it.

I just checked todays daily figure and it’s gone up to nearly 27,000 in 24 hours! Like I said, out of control. I don’t see how we are going to get through this without another full lockdown. I get they are trying to minimise the economic impact but if everyone is either dead or sick there wont be an economy to save!

I played guitar for a couple of hours tonight. It really helps my anxiety. Particularly noticeable this time. For the first time I actually wanted to reach out today. With all the love in the world to my friends and family, they have no idea what I’m going through from an experiential point of view. I text Mrs Golf this morning asking if she fancied a chat later. She suggested face time as we can both see a friendly face. Cracking idea. I’ve not long got off the phone to her. We were talking for over two hours. To be quite frank, she is the ONLY one that gets how I feel. Much needed. It’s also nice to have a two way street with her. I cheered her up the other day and she certainly cheered me up tonight. I think she may be a keeper. It’s been a long time since I have made a genuinely new friend.

So I’m due at my first visit at 9am. Jesus, I just looked at the clock and its midnight! I’d better get to bed. Well, at least I’m not freaking out now. I might not be awake for ages overthinking either. Music and a friend who understands… Nice way to end a shitty day.

Night friends… x

For the first time in a while, I actually woke up feeling depressed. Literally the first thing I thought of was ‘Fuck this life, I don’t want it.’ I just keep curling up and trying to go back to sleep. Just for a few seconds… Please… It doesn’t hurt when I sleep. Every time I nod off for a few minutes, I go through the same process on repeat. Just trying to curl up into the smallest ball I can. Complete refusal to accept this life I have now. I go through this cycle several times. I wasn’t counting. Eventually I face reality, (sort of) and force myself to get up, full to the brim with resentment and hatred for the situation I find myself in.

I just have to push on through regardless, just like I have throughout this whole fucking nightmare. Guess I’m spending the day simmering then. I wonder what/who will trigger me today. As if I’m not perfectly capable of self-triggering myself at any point anyway. Same as every single day, I start with my coffee and cigarette. I haven’t been smoking in the house since not long after My Lady passed away. Well, apart from my bedroom. I’ll go to hell before I give up that small comfort. Say what you like…

Staring out at the garden, dying inside as I remember not only our times out there together, but the countless hours spent out there this summer. It’s strange… I spent so much time out there this year, it makes My Lady’s passing seem like it was so long ago. Then… Bam! It only just happened… Again.

I make a pathetic attempt at shrugging it off and go and start reading the Haynes repair manual so I can at least visualise how the damn car is put together. My left speaker cable has come adrift and the car is disgusting , so I go and hoover it all out. The first step in my fault diagnosis is to check the battery connections. They look a bit dry and corroded so I clean them and that’s as much as I can be bothered to do. I jump in and nip to Tesco for some grief comfort cherry coke and to fill the car up. As I pull away, the thought occurs to me that if the MOT is REALLY bad I’ll have a scrap car with a full tank of fuel… Dickhead. Still it seems to be running ok for now.

I just can’t shake this anxiety. It’s building too. I’m worried about the nursing job, terrified actually. I’m worried about the car. It’s my only source of income at the moment. I’m worried about my income too. I can’t live off my redundancy money. My head is swimming. Overwhelmed. The penny has finally dropped. I’m probably going to have to work ridiculous hours just to make ends meet. I had got so used to my old work routine, it spoiled me. Just when you thought you couldn’t step up any more, along comes another slap in the face from the Cosmos for having the audacity to give oneself the slightest pat on the back. Believe me, patting myself on the back isn’t something I’m in the habit of.

I’ve been quite emotional pretty much all day. My Princeling has popped out for a bit so I pick up one of my acoustics. Strum here, strum there. Then I start feeling morose again… Joy… Rapture… I settle on this song in the end. Crumbled in the middle five times before I got to the end. Love this song.

Work husband popped in this evening. Always great to see him. We spent a good few hours talking. Much needed. So now he’s gone, I’m on my own again. Back to the desktop to bash out more of this drivel. Sometimes I wonder why I carry on doing this and then again, reading back… It’s mental, the different types of horror I’ve gone through this year. Of course one remembers recent events but you don’t always remember the finer details of your internal dialogue. Reading it back when feeling detached from it is a strange thing. Not sure how healthy it is for my mental health reliving it though. In theory it’s supposed to help.

Today, I think not. It just reminds me of times when I had the “luxury” of being able to indulge my broken head space. For weeks. Months actually. Now, when I feel the ‘train’ coming, my anxiety goes off the scale and feeds it, and around we go. I can’t allow myself to spiral like before. There’s far too much at stake now. As lonely as I was during lockdown, looking back, there was some sort of perverse feeling of safety and comfort. I didn’t have to face reality 100%. Part of me could live in denial limbo. If I’m honest with myself, I don’t even want to work at all. All I want is for the sun to shine like summer all year round while I tend the sanctuary that is our garden and play guitar. That’s it, nothing else. I’d love that. As ever, Ronnie Real comes ‘a knocking and there I am again, stressed about having to be away from the house for so long. Something in my head just can’t cope with the idea. Of course I’ll crack on anyway as always but I’m really struggling with it.

I want to hermit…

Yesterday I was shadowing another nurse but locally this time. I get in the car to go, and… Nothing. Not even a click. The battery was fine and that can only mean the starter motor or starter solenoid or it’s connections had failed. I bump started it and cracked on. Joy…

So that’s number one.

The lady I was shadowing made me feel very welcome and genuinely cared about my experience with her. I learned so much more from her. So I go home, via McDonalds, having bump started the car again. I park up and try to start it again. It starts. I do this five times and not one issue. I despise intermittent faults…

I’m home well before my Princeling is due home, so I have a short nap on the sofa. I’d not been up this early in months. I’m woken by my Princeling asking if the bulb in the fridge freezer needed changing. Nope… Nothing. It’s dead… Really?!

So that’s number two…

My mother died a year ago today. I wasn’t particularly close to my mother, but all the same… It still hurts. Yet more death to face, yet more anniversaries. It’s kicked me off now. What a time for a breakdown. No pun intended. I don’t think I’ve had one of these ‘Trains’ for a while now. Their spikiness is somewhat blunted these days. It’s a nice day today after a cold spell. I’m playing the songs I listened to in the garden all summer. God knows why, I’m such a masochist like that.

So that’s number three…

They ALWAYS come in three’s…

Only they don’t…

Precious’ friend has tested positive for Covid. Precious is having a test as I type. I guess 2020 really isn’t done with us yet. Bastard… Given how the rest of this year went, the thought of Precious catching it is horrific. Totally triggered.

So that’s number four…

Some one has been tested positive at my Princelings college. We are told we don’t need to do anything but still… Triggered…

So that’s number five… So far… As My Lady used to say, “Living my best life!”.

Work husband gave me a hand getting the replacement fridge freezer. Thank the gods, I found a cheap and local second hand unit straight away. I remember clearly the stress My Lady and I would go through when one of our white goods failed. It’s amazing how dependant on these things we all are. I’m lucky. I can afford to just go and nab a second hand one just like that, but it wasn’t always that way. I can finally breath now it’s installed and working. That’s one dealt with.

Enough of today. It can go away now. I don’t like it very much…

Well, it’s been quite a while since I was sat in Costa blogging. I’ve just finished more shadowing visits for my new care job. I don’t know why I’m surprised, but every visit has been completely different. Of course, why wouldn’t they be? I’m feeling a little stressed about it though. Mainly since my first shadow buddy signed me off on everything even though I had only watched some of the checkpoints rather than actually did them or fully understood them. He even said (after just 3 visits) that I can start working now. Really? Yeah probably not! There’s no way I’m ready to do lone visits. Far too much responsibility to just dive in when I’ve only had one days training and a few online courses. I need repetition to cement processes to memory. I’m not one of those that can be shown/told something once and it sticks. It just doesn’t work for me.

Today’s visits were for support care. Shadowing a couple of lady’s while they did their thing. Obviously with me helping whenever needed. It was the first time that the “personal care” part came into it. It’s the first thing everyone seems to think of when you talk about caring for the elderly. This is the bit where I need to train myself not to react to the smell of bodily functions. It wasn’t too bad to be honest. I started changing nappy’s when I had my first child at 16 and obviously having a dog, “poo patrol” is just everyday life.

I felt so much more relaxed on the support calls. It’s much simpler. Help one out of bed and into their chair. Bed bath for another client. I just observed on that one. I’m so worried about hurting one of the clients by being too nervous or clumsy. This is not going to be an easy transition. I had a missed call from a local care home yesterday. I need to call them in a bit. I’m not sure yet but I wonder if a residential setting might work better for me given it’s location. Maybe even consistent hours. I’ll find out soon enough.

Feeling weird now. The further down this road I go, the more I realise that quite aside from MY world changing so much, the whole world has now changed irrevocably so regardless of what happens now, life will never be the same again. Much like the rest of the planet. I still struggle with the thought that the world My Lady knew is gone too… Forever. How do I reconcile that?

Oh great… I left my coat in the car and now it’s chucking down out there…

So I don’t know what I’ll do tonight. Revise some of the medical recording procedures that’s for sure. I’ll probably spend an hour or two practicing guitar. I’ve been concentrating scales and modes over the last couple of weeks. For some reason, playing along to all the tunes I’ve mentioned before just wasn’t doing it. It happens to every musician. The trick is to change it up and keep it interesting. You might think just running up and down through scales would be boring. Not at all. I’ve been playing guitar on and off for forty years and never took the trouble to learn theory or scales. You could say it’s an easy win in one sense. Just keep going and you get faster and faster. That’s reward enough as it is. Committing all the scales and modes to memory is quite a different matter altogether. I’m in no rush though. I didn’t get this far only to lose interest now. If only I could join a band or do some jam sessions. That’s not happening any time soon. I can’t believe the government actually told people in the arts that they should just give up and change career. Horrific. So once the arts are killed, then what? It’s almost like they are blaming the arts for their own struggles when the industry has its back against the wall anyway. Unbelievable…

It’s stopped raining now. I’ll finish this later…

Fun times… I’m not happy this evening. I am actually sick of this empathy vibe today. I could really do with not giving a shit right now. Unfortunately, that’s just not me. I feel another existential crisis coming… Sometimes, do you ever feel like you care too much? And for what? Well, obviously for the clients for one, as they can’t help themselves. I need to find some sort of balance. The very reason I went into caring is also the reason I’m stressed out right now. How the hell am I going to cope with all this going forward? I know it’s very early days, but if my grief is going to come out at the end of every day, how will that work? The whole day has been a bit triggery to be honest. Arriving in a beautiful village of thatched cottages my first thought is still ‘My Lady would love this place.’ The client was just like my Grandmother in-law. Austere, well spoken. Old money. Then various other things just piled up as the day progressed. The second wave is still having a surfing competition and is ramping it up, local lockdowns are looking inevitable. Pretty much everything today has given me a horrific flashback of some sort. Not impressed.

Some people still seem to have the old me in their minds. I wonder how long it will take for everyone to realise I’m not listening to bullshit any more? Another new skill, is that I can smell it a mile off and I’m not talking about the clients. I just know when I’m being mugged off these days and have no time for it.

At the end of another mental day, I’m emotionally exhausted. I was going to bed some time ago, but I got talking to Mrs Golf and bashing out this drivel. I’m actually going to bed now though…

I’ve had the strangest few days. I had my first shadowing visit yesterday. I won’t lie, I was terrified! I meet with the nurse I’m shadowing with and he leads me in, explaining his process. I walk in and I see a man, with his pants around his ankles, arms folded on the table with his head just resting on them as though he was asleep. He was as it happens, but he looked so pale. For a split second, I thought ‘No fricking way! My very first call and the client is dead!’ Obviously I was somewhat mistaken but still, I believed it for a second. Horrific. Actually caring for him was quite easy and didn’t take very long at all. The next client… Oh my god! I was warned in advance that he was sometimes abusive, aggressive and just generally unpleasant. ‘Ok then, in the deep end again.’ I thought. Long story short, apparently my being there chilled him out. It didn’t take long for me to find out why. Mr fight club is from south Africa. Or rather , as he pointed out aggressively, Rhodesia… Right… My shadow buddy is African. If you’re not aware of the history here, Mr Fight Club was from the apartheid days of black segregation. The bile that came from his mouth… I was actually gobsmacked. My normal response in the face of overt racism would be to pull them up on it. Obviously you can’t in this setting. Seriously though. I can’t even repeat some of it here… My shadow buddy is as cool as a cucumber. Chuckling every time Mr Fight Club threatened to kill him for disrespecting his father. He didn’t even mention his father. Then, when asked if he wanted breakfast, he said in a quite frail voice, “Can I have banana with it please?” Almost with childlike innocence. The next moment, he slipped back into the vile Afrikaans hate speak.

By the end of the visit, he was happy sat with his papers, drinks and even commented on how nice we were with a smile. If there is a God out there, please don’t let me end up like that. That one visit opened my eyes to the other end of this shit show we call life. We all think we can imagine ourselves getting old and frail, maybe even infirm, but unless you have a relative in home care or in a care home, you really can’t. Sure, one would think of the obvious, like incontinence pads, bed washes and so on, but it’s the psychological side of it… Mr Fight Club clearly missed his healthier days. So much so, it seemed to be a trigger for his nasty side. The stereotypical bitter old man. He kept saying he could still kill us if he wanted too… Bless him. Not so much.

There was another client just a few roads away from Mr Fight Club so my shadow buddy suggested popping in to introduce myself to him. Varys was completely different. Lucid, smiling and friendly. Bald, chubby and his house was dirty as hell. Again, bless him. Not as incapacitated as Mr Fight Club, I think I felt more sorry for him than the others. He is with it enough to be fully aware of his situation. Still, he keeps on smiling… A lesson in gratitude right there.

It’s 8 months ago today that My Lady passed away. 8 months…

I’m looking at the garden while I have my first smoke of the day. It’s changed so much in those 8 months. The third season since. Wow. Before I know it, it will be a year. I had a look at the photos I’ve taken of the garden this year. It’s crazy how much I managed to do. It wasn’t unusual for me to spend 12 hours or more out there in the summer. It’s quite clear how obsessed I was. Notice I said “was”? During lockdown everyone had masses of time on their hands, so it’s no wonder I had it looking amazing. I was also (and still am) obsessed with the evening sky’s. As I mentioned before, I have this small obsession with the Moons phases. Venus was next to the Moon almost all summer as it set.

Going through all these summer photos has reminded me of how I felt during those scorching hot days. I just wanted to fly away to some permanently hot place and never come back. Of course, I would never have just abandoned anyone, but god did I want to be anywhere else but here. I still imagine myself retiring or at least spending my last working days somewhere hot. Our trips to Croatia cemented that vibe.

I wonder how I would have coped if there was no Covid. I managed to thrash out so much grief and obsessive behaviour when we were locked down. Maybe I would have been ok at work, but at what cost? I can’t spend too long in this vibe. It’s mentally crippling and at a time where I need to be super frosty and on it. I have had the “luxury” of being able to allow my depressions to play themselves out, mainly due to lockdown and then due to becoming unemployed. I don’t have that luxury anymore.

I’m going down to the office tomorrow to pick up my uniform and ID in readiness for my first shadowing visits on Tuesday. As you can imagine, being emotionally fragile when you are a domiciliary health worker could present a few problems. I seem to be developing the art of “I’m fine!” with the fake smile that everyone seems to be fooled by, so I’m not too bothered. I am so much stronger now too. After all, this is just a toe in the water as it were. I’m trying to have no expectations and to be open minded about it. I also have to be brutally honest with myself. It would not be fair to press on if I couldn’t cope with it. What if I broke down on a visit? Nope… Anyway, If it doesn’t work out, that’s fine. I’ll just try something else. I’m still completely winging it you know? I’m not as rudderless as before but I have no clue how this could play out. Almost everyone I have talked to about it has said that they took a career break and worked as a carer of some sort and the ending up loving it so much they did it for years. Seems quite a common story.

So, apart from the above, I have been doing the usual Sunday routine. Cleaning, washing etc. I can’t not have everything ready for the beginning of the week. Another new obsession. At least that one is useful… I’m emotionally tired now. I have noticed my legs are particularly tired today. No reason for that as I’ve not exactly been working out. Who knows? Just another ache, pain, neurosis and nearly psychosis a few times to throw into this years mix. There were several times in the first two weeks I just couldn’t respond to any stimulus. Catatonic almost. I guess, from that perspective I have come some way. I hate that though. I resent being able to cope now. Don’t get me wrong, I still have many days where I’m just destroyed, secretly bawling my eyes out all day. The fact is, more often than not, I am coping well enough to get everything done. It’s not getting any easier but it will. Once I have a reliable income I’ll be able to relax a bit. No doubt I’ll feel guilty about that too…

Friday, I received my enhanced DBS certificate. Having completed no less than two child protection courses in a week, I am now legally allowed to work with children. Having gained a TA position at the local performing arts academy, my first day was yesterday morning. Interesting… I have not seen the inside of My Lady’s school since the last time I helped her with all the equipment when she was teaching TV and film. I had prepared myself mentally before even setting off, but I still expected some sort of problem. Indeed, Mrs Performing Arts had originally decided not to chase me up for the position, thinking I would be far too triggered to do the job. My closest think I’m completely bonkers going into a role at My Lady’s school, with My Lady’s kids and with My Lady’s colleagues too. An understandable opinion to which I would normally agree, being completely objective. I wish I could answer the question of why would I want to do this given the circumstances. I know it gives me some sort of comfort and that is enough for now. I’m also helping keep the academy running as clients are increasing so they will be short staffed otherwise. I guess it’s also because of my new helping others vibe but there something more to it that I can’t quite place yet.

I kept it together throughout, but I was having constant flashbacks. I met My Lady’s replacement too. Seems like a nice enough chap. Of course he had to be an Apple guy, so he needed an HDMI cable. I nipped off to get one but again, it’s all exactly what I used to do with My Lady. Meh…

By all accounts it seems I did rather well. Or at least well enough. The kids I talked to seem to like me. I managed to get one lad engaged as he looked terrified, bless him. It was his taster day. It amused me that I had to stay with a new teacher as she still didn’t have her DBS. All the feedback I received was positive. Phase one… Complete.

The school have created a memorial garden outside My Lady’s classroom. I didn’t go and see it. I considered it, but thought better of it. Small steps. I don’t want to make the first time so traumatic that I can’t go back. I’ll get round to it. I’ll have a chat with them at some point as it was suggested that I contribute something. Sweet Pea’s and Passion Flowers if they let me. Every summer there would be the most beautiful fragrance wafting around mixed with the striking “Alien flowers” as My Lady used to call them. I got in my car at the end of the sessions and paused for a deep breath… ‘Breath… Breath, you can do this…’ I shook it off for long enough to light a cigarette and drive off.

We needed a few items so I stopped at Morrisons on the way back… Just like we did every Saturday. I wasn’t quite as triggered as last time. “Simmering” just under the surface, waiting for the trigger for it to come out and savage me. Again, I kept it together until I’d gone back to the car. I’d done well so far, got to 2pm… Driving home from Morrisons, it started. I knew it would at some point. I spent most of the rest of the day depressed or crying. Mostly the former.

Once all the chores were done, I dived into my recording studio for the first time in ages. The intention being to “Finish” at least one of the songs I wrote for My Lady way back in 2007… Having taken inspiration from the plethora of tutorials by Steve Vai out there. I just let my ear guide me instead of my fingers. It works. After all this time, I finally have some melody lines. I recorded channel after channel, deleting bum notes or phrases that didn’t fit. Cheating? Not so much. The idea is to collect all the bits I like, put them together over the original song and once I’m happy, learn it all in one piece. Its exactly what Vai does. “There are no rules.” I can see why now. After a while, I reach saturation point. My ears are tired, my soul is tired, my heart is tired… Time for bed. Early too.

My night on the sofa was not great. I settled myself early with the laptop to watch a few old “Monday night Skippy’s” races. Tea: Check. Biscuits: Check. Depression: Check. Anxiety: Check. In fact I would be checking all day at this rate. Halfway through my first race, I’m starting to nod off and my phone rings. It’s Mrs Golf. She’s had an awful day and was brave enough to take me up on my offer and call me for a chat. Being sleepy plus my Princeling checking on me at the same time, bless him, I didn’t know if I was coming or going at first. Slightly amusing now. I’m still surprised I got the call though. The reason I used the word brave is that when you are in the depths of feeling the pain, it’s so hard to actually pick up the phone and call someone. I’ve not done it yet. Or at least not when in full crying my eyes out mode. I still don’t have a label for that. She did well.

I listen to her day and we talked until late. It was so nice to be able to help ease her pain. Of course, now that I actually have a high level of empathy, it hurts me too but I accepted that as part of the process of helping and healing some time ago. Once the call ended I go back to my races and before long, I’m nodding off again. I put away the laptop and settle for sleep… Only it doesn’t come. I lie there for 45 long minutes pondering Life, the Universe et al. I’m woken several times in the night by all sorts of annoying things. Even the alarm on the old £10 Tesco phone in the drawer went off at 4am. I mean, what the bun? On top of everything else, it reminds me of when I couldn’t sleep in our bed because I was getting horrific nightmares and flashbacks. My counsellor back then even suggested I may have PTSD. I don’t say that lightly as I have a little knowledge about this and the term should not be bandied about willy nilly. Suffice to say I won’t be sleeping there tonight.

Edward Van Halen passed away yesterday.

Wow… It seems like 2020 is far from done with us.

It has hit me quite hard. I’ve always loved Edwards playing but I was never a “Fan” as such. So why do I feel like I’ve been punched in the guts? I’m guessing it’s just yet another layer to the 2020 cunt cake. (Sorry, but tell me the word isn’t appropriate!) All the Trumptards and Trumpettes are despicably spreading Covid throughout the US government, the second wave is having a surfing competition, I’m feeling tender from the angiogram, I’m still reeling from being at the hospital and I’ve not slept well at all. Living my best life as My Lady used to say…

I want to have a nap. Not a good sign. A nap wouldn’t be a problem but it’s what it represents I have issue with. I mustn’t let myself spiral. I’m in hibernate mode now. I’m so used to seeing no one for days at a time, that I don’t seek any contact much, if at all. My nearest get a kiss or a heart text but that’s it. ‘I’m still here but hiding’. It’s funny you know, sometimes when I’m in this mood I find myself expecting the whole world to be psychic and know exactly when and how to contact me at any given moment, but at the same time wanting to hide from the whole Universe. Yet another grief dichotomy…

I’m supposed to rest for the next few days, but it’s driving me mad already. I cant play guitar, I cant race online and obviously I can’t drive my car either. My wrist still hurts too so any PC time is limited. So what the hell else is there? Oh yeah… Poor me… Again. Meh… I’m having that nap. Maybe the world will go away for a couple of hours. Like I said… Meh.

I’m sat in the cardiac ward waiting to be taken through for my angiogram. Just being anywhere near this bloody hospital is horrible. At least I’m nowhere near ICU. Of course every part of the hospital looks more or less the same but it’s in a different building. Naked apart from my gown, my legs are freezing. I have no filter this morning, I was just asked about my Epilepsy and then proceeded to give the nurse my life story. How new. Man I’m depressed right now. Still, after all this time, I’m utterly confused. Being sat on this bed is taking me right back. It makes it all feel like it only just happened… Again. I’d imagine yesterday’s events have contributed somewhat.

I’m back on the ward now. The procedure was the weirdest sensation. When they injected the contrast dye it felt like it was freezing and burning at the same time. Not as weird as feeling the tube go all the way up the vein in my arm and in to my chest. One thing that surprised me was that I couldn’t feel it beyond that. I could see the tube actually touching my heart but I couldn’t feel it.

So, it would seem there is nothing wrong with my heart. If anything my heart AND lungs are particularly healthy. Mad considering I’ve smoked for around thirty years. So what ARE my symptoms about? I might never find out it seems. I’m starting to think some of it may be neurological. I’d imagine it could be possible for the stress and maybe even previous damage from my seizure in 2016 to be a contributing factor. I have no idea. I’ll look into that. Google doctor can be a very dangerous thing though so I only research on official medical papers. Drives me crazy when someone watches some random YouTube video and then thinks they are a specialist.

So my dear friend and newly adopted brother collected me from hospital and I’m now home. I have to be really careful with my right arm. I’m basically left handed for a couple of days. Interesting. I’m sleeping on the sofa for a couple of nights. It seems the post care can be more problematic than the procedure itself. After nearly four solid days of rain, the sun has finally come out. Unusually, (recently) I find this uplifting. Needed. Post visit to that place… I believe the colloquial term is “Not ideal.” I’m sat here destroying a bag of minstrels trying not to think about back then. I find my mind desperately clawing around for a distraction only for the pain to come straight back. This song is helping. 6-8 time. The weird timings are pulling my mind away. Have a listen.

Dinner time will be interesting. I’m not supposed to cook either. We’ve had too many takeaways recently so I’m reticent to get another. Not sure my tummy would appreciate it either. I don’t know… I don’t know what to do with myself right now. I keep thinking of things to do for distraction, then thinking ‘No you can’t do that either’. Probably shouldn’t even be typing so I’ll stop here.

As I had gone to bed quite early last night I was up early too. Initially I thought to myself ‘Nice, I feel like I’ve had a lie in and it’s only half eight.’ In less that half an hour, I can feel the despair creeping in. As I’ve been so deep in the training this week, a lot of things have been left. I’m automatically starting the old Sunday routine without a thought and then… You’ve guessed it. Bam! Ugh. I carry on anyway as it needs doing. Dust everywhere, dog fur, cat fur. Ugh, disgusting. So I go mad dusting, polishing and hoovering. Just like we always did, get the house and everything in order for the start of another working week. Washing done and everything prepped for the morning. Quite aside from being a dutiful husband with the house work all our lives and being the house hubby for a few years I have thousands of memories doing such things. Just like early on, I note that the constant thought in my head when doing house work, is ‘My Lady will love the shiny taps’ or ‘She would love to come home to a stripy weed free lawn when she gets home.’ just to mention two. I wasn’t exaggerating when I said that EVERYTHING I did was with My Lady in mind. I don’t know if this is normal or not. Is this everyone’s experience of true love? Even in the last few days before My Lady went into hospital, I still remember making the house lovely when she was poorly. Ugh…

I’m not used to having proper flashbacks of any kind, despite my dubious past. Sat here typing is a small distraction. I’m struggling to see clearly through my glasses as there are so many dried tears on them. I just realised… I stink, my hair is greasy and I feel yuk. I want a bath but I want to spend as little times as possible in the upstairs bathroom due to the isolation. A self pity bath isn’t going to help anyway. I have learned that much at least. Time for a shower and then no doubt back to self pity. It’s so annoying seeing my emotional state objectively but being powerless to prevent it. I still haven’t got used to that…

Ew… Yep, I definitely need a shower… Not that anyone is going to see me any time soon. Not the point though I guess. Ugh, where’s my bloody ‘Storm’? I feel so battered right now. Yes… Of course… That shower…

I’m currently sat in the Covid testing marquee at the hospital where my Lady passed away. I turn up over half an hour early like a muppet so I have to sit here thinking about the countless times I walked past here and in through the main entrance, past the chapel, up the stairs, across the hall and into ICU. It’s not quite as bad as the last time I was here as I can only see a little bit of the hospital building. If you haven’t had a test yet, be warned. It’s thoroughly unpleasant. Quite aside from the gag reflex when they swab the back of your throat, I’ve never had anything that far down my nose. It’s a weird sensation having something touch the inside of your head. That’s what it feels like anyway. So as the procedure was so quick and I had turned up early, I thought I’d go down the the café and the Next Steps group. Every time I go, I talk to someone else each time. So I’m sat there, everyone social distancing in a big room, I pull out the information slip they gave me at the hospital. Oh… I shouldn’t even be here. It says I have to self isolate until the procedure. I even have to keep as much distance from my Princeling as possible… Really? The procedure is on Tuesday and I’m starting my new job on Monday afternoon. Or I was anyway. It makes perfect sense, but the thought hadn’t even crossed my mind and nothing had been mentioned about it, either when the hospital called to arrange the test, nor when I had the test. I just put the slip aside and off I trot. Ok then. I need to leave! I explain and make my exit feeling like an idiot for not reading it before I even pulled away. I have a little cry on the way home as usual.

As I drive, I look around at all the places we’ve been. All the countless drives all sorts of places. I don’t want to be here anymore. I don’t want to be ANYWHERE we went together… Ever again. Practical much. The feeling washed over me out of the blue like a Tsunami. I had found coping mechanisms for the constant memories when out and about. Early on, I just couldn’t cope with that. I wanted to be as far away from home as possible and never come back. It’s the only time, until now, that I have felt this way.

It’s different this time. I can see various futures now. None of which seem like much fun. Maybe winning the lottery so I can just spend the rest of my life collecting and playing guitars. Even then… I’d be livid if, after all the work we had put into life, particularly My Lady, we won the lottery after she passes away. Pardon the expletive but FUCKING LIVID!! The point is, I can’t see any kind of remotely happy future without My Lady. Months down the line, as I sit here typing about it, I’m sat in a completely confused state again. I mean… How? Why? It wasn’t supposed to end like this at least not until we were really old. Bullshit is what it is!

I go home and explain the situation to my Princeling and take all my toiletries downstairs. Has it really come to this? Later, after we have eaten, I install the new brass sustain block for my Jackson guitar. I had to make adjustments to the bridge but it all went in without issue. So obviously I want to play guitar this evening. It just wasn’t happening. I get times like that. Sometimes, whatever you play, however you change the sound, it just doesn’t sound right. It’s really hard to play through that. So I didn’t. Wiped her down and hung her up for another day. Bummer. Oh well, another written off day. Not entirely actually, as my Princeling and I had a good talk today so not a complete write off. The fact remains, I’m done with today and I’m going to bed. Early too.

Meh…

At the risk of being repetitive, how the hell can this year get any weirder? I had my interview for the domiciliary health worker job yesterday. They couldn’t get enough of me! Mental. I told them about my last year and how it had changed me. “Aww that’s lovely, you sound perfect!” I have a crap ton of training to do today. DBS check was only a few pounds too. So after an hour or so going through everything I came away feeling like I had smashed the interview out of the park. Quite a buzz I can tell you after my confidence has been smashed and battered by this years events. I’ve spent so long feeling like I’m flogging a dead horse with my job hunting. I was this close to giving up… But no… I am the storm, remember?

I spoke at length with Mrs Performing arts when I got home. She runs the local performing arts academy. My Lady used to run the film and TV class at the weekends. Another who thinks I would be good with kids/people enough that she is very keen to take me on board. Given that I’m already getting a DBS check for the care job that saves one job. Anyway I start a week on Saturday. What the bun? After so long not getting anywhere in my usual line of work too. I’ve always been a technical man. Everything I went for was either gone or was too far away. I won’t leave Mr C on his own all day. That’s really not fair. Throughout the entire time since I found out I was being laid off, every single enquiry in the care industry wasn’t blocked. Far from it. Not one single block. I have an offer of voluntary work at Mencap too. I couldn’t possibly do all the things I have available. Taken on two jobs in one day and even had to turn down the voluntary position !

The Cosmos is really having a ball with me eh? Devastating lows and soaring highs. Back to back and even simultaneously at times. How the hell is my brain still working!?

Forgot to bring my charger to Costa so my battery is about to die.

Finish this later…

So, I had my interview and a weeks full on training. So intense. I was doing it nearly all day every day all week. I did really well apparently. It was a good distraction from my turmoil. Pretty much as soon as I clicked the last answer on the last piece of the last online course, I just slumped in my chair and burst into tears. Almost a whole working week without a full blown break down. As ever, this always make it worse then they come along. All the paperwork is now in order, DBS check came through and I passed all my training and online courses. So by the end of the day, I’m all good to go. I’ll be going to the office Monday afternoon to collect my badge and uniform and go on a few shadowing visits. Wow… This really is happening!

After such an intense week and given my reaction when I finished, I decided to put the whole thing away and feed my soul for a bit. Lots of guitar philosophy from various stars then a few hours playing. Thought it was about time I got into scales after so many years. Given my interest in Steve Vai and the moment, I went straight to his favourites. The main one being the Lydian mode. As soon as you start playing in this mode, you can immediately hear his style and see why he likes it so much. It’s no wonder there is so much of it in his catalogue. I’m impressed at how he can make so much use of it without sounding repetitive.

I have a Covid test in the morning… I feel very strange about it, I don’t know why. I guess as my dear friend and newly adopted sister has had it and considering that we were never convinced My Lady didn’t have it… Must be yet another trigger.

Screw today, I’m going to bed to watch my usual acoustic happy hour with Rob from Machine head. Meh…

25th September 2020.

I have been job hunting so much lately. Finally, in the last few days, I have been getting calls about various caring positions. I even have a phone interview this morning for a domiciliary support worker but the interviewer had to rush off to help with an emergency. Maybe a sign of things to come… I’m sat here quite nervous and not a little excited. I keep telling myself to have no expectations, after all I have no idea how this will work for me. Or even if it will work for me at all. Sure as hell I’m going to give this my best. It’s entirely out of my hands at that point. Let the Cosmos do what it will. Goodness knows it will anyway.

Hours later and they still haven’t called. I’ve called them three times so far. Bit of a wind up to be honest.

26th September 2020.

So I only managed to get through to them yesterday as I tried one last time just before 5. It’s been rearranged for Monday. Meh. All bloody day waiting and three calls chasing them up and still no interview. Spent last night watching the usual Machine Head acoustic happy hour with the singer Rob. So uplifting. Good laugh too. Woke at 3 am with the laptop still on my lap!

I went to the Next Steps meet at the local café this morning. Mrs Golf from the Cruse group was there so it was really good to finally meet. I didn’t realise quite how much I couldn’t relate to some of the other members until today. Not because they were unpleasant in any way. Far from it, they are all lovely. Some are twice my age. Mr Clarinet had 57 years with his wife. What I wouldn’t give… Mrs Golf and I spent the whole time chatting on our own. It was amazingly different talking to someone around the same age. She felt the same about Mr Clarinet… If only…

Talking with Mrs Golf was amazing. Sounds weird I know but it became apparent very early on that she has been on a similar journey through her grief. No two are the same but I related so much. I think she did too. She told me of the WAY (Widowed and Young) charity. I had seen this before but for some reason read the join us page as £25 per month. No way I was paying that. It’s £25 per year… Lol. Strange thing is, I left the meeting feeling better than when I arrived. That’s new. Problem is when I got home and started looking at the WAY site, I related so much it made me cry lots. I think it might be the way to go. So it would seem I might have found a grief buddy. It’s weird talking to a relative stranger about stuff so deep and intimate without the awkwardness or guilt. Proper friend level. I would never have dreamed of doing that a few months ago. Despite it being bloody freezing, it calmed me. I can’t deny, I’ve always been a cringeworthy over-sharer at times, but grief sharing is completely different. There a no mixed signals and you both know damn well the thought of someone else… Eww… It just doesn’t cross your mind. Even though we both said how much we miss the cuddles. Refreshing. Anyway, It’s nice to have someone I can talk to on the same level. At last…

I received a text from Mrs Performing Arts last night inviting me to be a Teaching Assistant at the local performing arts academy. Say what now? Me… A TA? How many times do I have to say it? How can this year get any weirder? So that’s potentially a job as a domiciliary worker, Teaching assistant and even a volunteer position with Mencap. I might even have the time to do all of them. I think I should ease into it though. I don’t want to overwhelm myself. I need to spend this weekend planning and processing. I need to hit the ground running on Monday. I’ve already done some of it so, dinner then… Not sure yet. It usually involves guitar at some point.

Finish this later…

Sat down with the semi acoustic for a change. My Lady always loved Nutshell by Alice in Chains so I worked it out. Really easy. To play anyway. I keep crying in the middle of it though. It cuts me so deep. It uses most of the same chords as a song I wrote for My Lady when we were courting.

Outside by Staind is in the same tuning.

It seems that my chats with Mrs Golf has unlocked more emotions. We were talking till late last night too. Time for sleep.

23rd September 2020.

Well it’s been a while since my last blog. I can only assume that’s a good thing. Looking back, the worse I feel the more I blog. There’s no denying getting my thoughts down has given me a lot of insight into my journey. Who knew? They were right.

My headspace has been weird ever since my birthday. Of course it’s all relative as I’ve been weird as hell for many a year. It’s been a real mission keeping the job searching up. It’s gathering pace though. Fingers crossed.

I’ve been playing so much guitar lately. I’m so close to playing ALL of For the love of god by Steve Vai. That’s just downright crazy. I even impressed myself last night and I am my worst critic. I might even end up really good at this stuff! I’ve got to the point where I don’t even think about what comes next for most of it so I can just enjoy putting the emotion into it. I must start recording my practises. A Steve Vai tip that one. I have found so many Vai videos online. Masses of lessons and advice on being the best you can. What a legend. He even goes right into guitar philosophy and “connectedness”. Sounds funny but it works incredibly well. One thing I discovered when I started playing lots again was that all these years I’ve been putting way too much physical effort into my playing. I just relax and play much lighter. I get a better sound and its easier to play, especially the fast runs. All these years… If only I had found this out earlier. Another consequence of being self taught. Although to be fair, if I had the motivation I would have had this down years ago. Funnily enough only last week that was one of the most important tips in all of Steve Vai’s lessons. I played that song on repeat for over 5 hours yesterday.

So my dear friend and newly adopted sister has had a cold. Only she doesn’t. Confused? You will be. My newly adopted brother has it too. Work husband has had a cold. My Princeling has had a cold. I dropped by my old work to pick up a package that I accidentally got sent there. I spoke to my old boss for a mo and he has had a cold. His daughter has had a cold. Wherever I go I’ve heard about a cold going round like crazy. Schools, colleges, workplaces… Obviously it makes perfect sense. So many people have started mixing again when they went back to school and so on. On top of that there is a growing number of people that are so done with it all they genuinely don’t care any more. Even to the point they are prepared to risk spreading it just so they can have some freedom. Disgusting, I can’t bear it. I get the desperation for everyone to go back to our normal social selves, really I do. I mean… As you have read dear reader, I’ve been incredibly lonely. Not only because I lost my Soulmate, but lockdown, losing my job etc. We were a close bunch at my old workplace. I miss them still.

So anyway, IS it a cold? It might not be… So my newly adopted sister had to get a Covid test as one of her colleagues was tested positive and had to isolate at home as you would expect. Throughout, both have only had cold symptoms and still do. So after dragging it out for you, my newly adopted sister tested Covid positive… I mean… What the fuck!? Really? After everything, our circle actually has it? I’m actually in shock. My anxiety has gone off the scale. We haven’t seen them for over three weeks so we’re ok on that front.

So it looks like there are more symptoms we are not aware of or were not made aware of…

15th September 2020.

This morning I wake from the most horrific nightmare. I lost all three of my family to Covid. My Princeling has woken up with a sore throat and a cough. Please let be something else. It’s the season for it to some extent but I’m so hyper aware if not paranoid about it, it’s actually a major trigger. I only found this out this morning. Great… I have been applying left right and centre for caring roles, both as a volunteer and paid roles. There is even a government website to help people into the caring industry.

17th September 2020.

Well… Interesting couple of days. My Princeling has caught a bug. It looks like a normal cold but we have been told to isolate and get a Covid test… Great. So I go onto the NHS Covid test site. Nothing for two days. Then I struck gold. Or so I thought. The nearest test site available was in Northern Ireland! What the hell? It’s all so broken. So now I can’t start a job even if I got one. Not for another two weeks anyway. My Princeling and I seem to have adjusted well. After months of lockdown, two weeks doesn’t seem so long.

18th September 2020.

Jimi Hendrix died on this day…

I’ve been waiting the a train to run me over for days now, maybe even over a week. Simmering from the moment I got up, the emotions got stronger and stronger. Slowly at first, then I’m caught by the self pity hook and put on my “Shattered Heart” playlist. I had quite a crying session. I’m kind of ok now but it’s so shit. The longer I go without crying, the harder it is when I do. I’m also annoyed as it wasted hours of my day when I could be doing useful things.

I got a surprise call today from one of the local care homes. It was just a courtesy call to say they are very interested but obviously can’t let anyone into the home at the moment but they wanted to assure me I would not be forgotten. How lovely of them.

So it’s my birthday tomorrow. I’ve considered it quite the non event the last few years and this year… Well lets just say I’m not into it. Not because I feel old, although I do, but because My Lady isn’t here to share it with me. I did do one thing though. I’ve been frustrated with my metal sound from my amp for a while and after a few weeks researching, I purchased a Boss MT-2 distortion pedal on finance. £3 per month… Lol. I actually forgot it was my birthday so had it sent for next week. Then I thought ‘Sod it, why not?’. Something to take my mind of yet another shitty date.

I’m pretty tired now after so much crying but I’m still craving something… I don’t know. I think I’ll play guitar for a bit before I settle down to watch the Machine Head happy hour with Robb. Very entertaining.

Night peeps. x

So I’m sat in my nice and tidy garden. Stripy lawn, weeded and watered beds, my three Princeling’s are fed and watered and ready for college, well one of them obviously… Sitting listening the The Queen of Everything again having flashbacks to the countless times I’ve sat here pondering recent events. Part of me wants to pause the world so I can lose myself in thinking about My Lady… As if I didn’t think of her every second anyway.

It’s officially autumn now. Another season over with. Autumn will be so hard this year. I’ll never forget our first autumn drive between the Mouth and here. Beautiful oranges, reds, and yellows. Last autumn we made an effort to get out and enjoy the fallen leaves. Hmm. While I’m writing this, I can see a flock of birds on their way south. How I wish I could go with them. Just fly away to hotter climes and never come back.

I think I want to move somewhere hot when I’m older. I can see myself living by a beach somewhere hot, with a simple job and a simple life. Contemplating in the garden always makes me want to escape. I think when I’m sat here, I feel closest to My Lady despite her ashes being in our bedroom. No idea why. Maybe because my garden time is spent in such intense thought about her.

The sun is starting to set on yet another crappy day. I’m so glad to be shot of that migraine. I’d be completely useless if it was still there tomorrow. So… Tomorrow starts another week of intense life admin. Don’t know what else to call it really. Jobs, finances, education stuff. You know the drill.

As the birds start the evening chorus, the track changes to ocean waves… So relaxing. I so wish she was here. She would have loved what I’ve done. It’s quite the sanctuary at times. God I miss her… I’m drinking her favourite juice. Mango, or “Mang” as I loved her calling it. If only I had a time machine. Seven months since My Lady passed away and I’m still in denial half the time. I mean… How the fuck did we end up here? No really… The light is fading now and I’ll go in and scroll through Facebook again like a social media automaton, gorming at the screen all evening. Before I know it, it will be bedtime. Then it’s up, sharpen my sword and off into battle I go. Dramatic much. Still, it’s the attitude I need to have when tackling these matters. I’m still not used to having to do absolutely everything. Don’t get me wrong, I have achieved more than I thought possible but it’s not enough yet. As I mentioned before, it’s all very well being the storm but I have to keep it up… Permanently. I know I’m not the first person to find themselves in this position but it’s still mind blowing.

So as the light fades further, the sky is clear and the birds are singing while a pastel orange hue slowly appears to the West. I expect the Pipistrelle’s will be out shortly. This is why I always stay here until it’s almost completely dark. Funny… Mr C and Mr T are both moaning at me because I’m still here when it’s getting dark. They both want me to go inside. Cute.

The last couple of days have been awful. The migraine got worse and worse. I managed to fend it off for a while with as many pain killers as are safe. Woke up in the middle of the night sick as a dog. All night. In my left eye I was seeing weird neon ladders in disco lights. I only started getting visual migraines in the last year or so. Surreal . Jesus it was horrible. I haven’t been sick like that in years. The whole thing has left me a bit fuzzy. Cleaned the house, finished the washing, prepped the mornings admin and even hoovered the lawn. Bored as hell now. Played some new stuff on the acoustic for half hour then got bored with that too. I think it’s company I need. An evening of adult conversation. I miss my friends. They are awesome.

My Princeling is out again today making the most of the weather. Everyone else is doing their thing. I don’t know what’s wrong with me today. It’s yet another new and strange feeling I’ve not had before. A weird mix of lethargy, loneliness, boredom, and anxiety with a complete lack of motivation. It doesn’t help that I have actually done the Sunday routine already. Now I’m sat here just looking around the room thinking about how much I miss My Lady…

With my recent habits, this would be a good time for a nap. Indeed, it wouldn’t hurt but I’m trying to resist that urge. If I do it too much I end up even more depressed. Much as I love the break from thinking.

Tomorrow I have to make an even bigger effort looking for a job. I have a long to do list and it’s still growing.

Now then, where did I leave my sword?…

So I’m out and about today. Dropped my Princeling off in town and had a mooch. I hadn’t even thought about Lush but when I walked past and the smell hit me, I just couldn’t carry on walking. As before I got My Lady’s favourites. My car smells divine. My day started well. I was awake over an hour before my alarm. Doing my usual morning routine. BBC news, NASA site and another beautiful sonnet read by Sir Patrick Steward. I’ve been hooked on them ever since he started a daily sonnet. After I took My Lady to see Phantom of the Opera for our Hallow-Versary, I’ve been a convert. I’m gutted I won’t be able to explore this with her. Phantom brought me to tears. That made her so happy. It’s one of her greatest passions and we would have started a whole new thing for us. Dressed like millionaires, mixing with the weird and wonderful people. We actually looked like a million dollars that night . I’ll treasure it forever. As it was Halloween, there were street parties in the west end. Everyone dressed up spectacularly… God I miss her so much. Great. Crying in Costa now. They are used to it now I think. So as I said, my day started well. After the sonnet, I scrolled though Facebook as usual. Two different people have just dyed their hair… The same colour as my Lady. Ugh. That lasted long. When in town I see no less than three women with the same colour. Not happy. 5 people with the same bloody hair. Ugh. I’m done…

Oh… I just remembered… it’s seven months today since she passed away. Seven months!? What the hell? That actually freaks me out. Ok then. I’ll be fighting he urge to wallow today. Yesterday’s a write off and I need to be on it today. Lots to do.

The cardiologist tried to call while I was driving. Of course he did. .. C’mon then Cosmos, what have you got for me now? Bring it on you bastard! Grrrr.

The trapped nerve that I had yesterday is still there. Given that my potential heart problems are still being investigated I called the doctor… Yet again. Joy. I’m going to the surgery later. While I was out walking Mr C, my chest got so tight it scared me a little. I was quite breathless with it. After talking to the doctor the thought occurred to me that I still haven’t even written down my wishes in the event of my dying. Shit… That’s quite important really… Just a bit!

It’s the weirdest thing writing down what you want to happen when you die. Given everything that’s happened this year and my constant health problems since My Lady passed away, I feel it’s more than possible. Even feel it’s likely at some points. If My Lady can die on me, I’d believe anything right now. It’s almost like writing your will when you KNOW you’re going to die… Soon. Jebus, that’s morbid! I laugh but I’m taking this very seriously, even down to noting the exact co-ordinates where My Lady and I are to be buried/scattered. Perversely, there’s something comforting in the process but at the same time there’s the horror of thinking about how the kids will deal with it, both emotionally and logistically.

No problems found at the doctors. ECG all good, listened to my chest, all good. Symptoms are still there. So yet more tests. I’m being booked in for a Cardioangiogram now. If that’s clear then god knows what’s going on.

Getting back to the will writing, I find it strange… It’s nearly complete and the process has calmed me. I wasn’t particularly distressed anyway but having sorted out the affairs of My Lady, laying mine out has made me relax on a level that I didn’t even know was bothering me. Having it all done means that whatever happens to me, the kids won’t have to deal with as much as I did. It’s totally overwhelming going through every last thing with a fine toothed comb in the first two weeks of your loved one passing. I have created a full instruction manual. If you haven’t done this, please consider it. Your loved ones won’t know it but they will suffer a lot less if you take as much work out of it as possible for them. Just list all of your accounts and utilities with account numbers and any login details. If nothing else, get a funeral plan going asap and if you can, pay it off as early as possible. My Lady’s plan was two months old when she passed away. We didn’t even get the few payments she made back.

Just get it sorted… Please. Don’t wait or put it off. You really have NO IDEA what could happen at any time… Trust me.

This is a strange feeling. As I mentioned previously, when all these heart symptoms came along I wasn’t scared in the slightest. Far from it. I was quite ok with dying from a heart attack. If anything part of me at the time resented NOT dying from a broken heart… I mean… I’m not supposed to survive this. It really is the end of the world. Still don’t want it without My Lady by my side. Again, I look after myself for my loved ones. Much as I couldn’t deal with another death, neither could they. I’ve discussed it with a few close people and we are all in agreement. No dying just yet thanks. I’m very lucky to have plenty of people that love me. If I had no one and no responsibility, I’d definitely be dead by now… 100%. I’d have just spiralled into self- destruct mode. Actually, I did a few times but I fought it as hard as I could and I’m still here so… I guess that’s a good thing… Meh. Like I said, lucky we don’t live in a gun country. First week…? Bang. No question whatsoever. In all my life, I’ve never wanted to end it and could never understand why anyone could consider it. Until then… You only have to have the guts for a split second. Game over and no respawing.

Anyway, enough of such pleasant reminiscences. No need to be up as early tomorrow so I’ll do a couple of races before bed. I don’t look forward to bedtime. The loneliness is getting worse when I’m in bed. Can’t sleep for ages. Took over two hours last night and I was in bed early because I was exhausted.

Lets see what this Formula 3 car is like. First high downforce car I’ve used. Different skills entirely.

Laters… x