2 years ago, to the day, I was planning my suicide and what needed sorting to make it easier for everyone once I was gone.
1 year ago, to the day, I saw Father for the last time as him. It’s his birthday. We went to his house and Sister told him she was pregnant. We went out for food. We didn’t stay for coffee. I didn’t know it was the last time I’d ever see him as a functioning, talking human. If only I’d known. I’d have gone back for coffee. Hugged him one more time. Asked him the questions that now haunt me. I’d have told him I loved him too.
Today, I’ve cried. A lot. Sister and I went for lunch to be together. But… I received a letter which I think indicates that I’ve lost my job. I can’t blame them. I’ve had incredible medical and salary insurance but what on earth will I do if I don’t have that job? That very specific job at that very specific company? Who will touch me?! How do I explain the lack of work?
Tonight, I’m under a duvet wishing my life didn’t feel so painful, isolating and scary right now.
Just to add some sarcasm and a laugh… I tried internet dating and managed to get myself a second obsessed stalker. That’s me done for another few years I think. Oh, and I’ve got broken fingers and a bad concussion from falling off Horse T… head first. I spent the last Friday of the month (ie the Friday people get paid and break dry January) being admitted to hospital for scans. You couldn’t make it up!