Waiting waiting waiting….

Waiting for the Coroner’s investigation to move on, whether we like the answers or not.
Waiting to come off these meds (which I think have made things worse) to get on to the new meds (which clearly I’m hoping will help).
Rang the recommended counsellor, who work have very generously offered to help pay for. However, predictably, it turns out that she’s away for a week and then on training for the week after. So that’s more waiting then.
And then I’m waiting for a patch, however small, when I feel like I’d rather be alive than the alternative.
Yes I’m getting through from one day to the next, kinda, but this isn’t living. It’s barely even existing.

Maybe I should just sell up, store everything, and then f*ck off somewhere until, well ever. Bearing in mind I barely managed to get out of bed today, that seems unlikely. At least here is where he was, and I can kinda sense the echo of him, and us, around me. If I concentrate very hard and close my eyes in the snug in the Oakhouse, I can almost feel him holding me. Scarce comfort is better than none.

And Axbridge have been really supportive, even if the novelty of looking after the wailing banshee has worn off now, let’s face it, who can blame them?

So if I left I’d be lost & lonely in the middle of wherever without you, knowing no-one. Instead of stuck lonely in the middle of a twilight world with you.

Man I wish you’d come back. I miss you so much. I really hope you know that.

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