I'm not sleeping? A few sleeping pills, only a few, don't want to become dependant.
I have, he thinks, plantar fasciitis (which my spell check wants to correct to fascism) and now have another, physical reason to stay away from the toxic workplace. Woo hoo. Lots of rest, padding in the heel, no barefootedness (boo).
My doctor is concerned that I'm slipping into depression. I think I let him think this because it keeps me from having to go back to work, the thought of which really does depress me. But the mere mentioning of depression has me wondering... Am I? I honestly truly don't think that's it. I am grieving. But it seems there is a fine line between grief and depression and the measurement of that line differs wildly depending on who you ask. I feel ok most of the time, I can get up in the morning with only a little trouble, I can talk about George with those who will listen and I laugh a lot and not inappropriately in the middle of the street. I don't hate myself for what happened, I don't blame myself, I don't think I killed my son by somehow not knowing or doing something. I can differentiate between blaming a part of my body and blaming me. Evilbloodyfuckingstupidbabykillingfibroids! See?
I must say, I feel a bit of a fraud for letting Dr Compassion worry about my state of mind. Or maybe he's right? Am I depressed? I know you readers out there don't know the real every day me but do I sound depressed when you read? Or do I sound like someone going through a process of miserably healthy grief? Do tell.
Incidentally, I spoke to my Mum this morning and when I mentioned that Ray had been out building his friend's computer until 2am and we were then both awake until 4am this morning, she told me off for staying up late! And then asked, "what on earth were you doing?!" Well really Mum, we might have been having wild first time in 7 months sex. So perhaps there are some questions you really shouldn't ask your adult daughter! Aaah mothers.
On a much more disturbing note, our friendly neighbourhood serial killer has been dangling bird feeding thingies in the trees outside his building today in between cleaning the blood from his car. Does he think this apparently compassionate gesture will fool anyone?