Memories disturbed. Disturbed memories.

There  was a little something on the tv the other night. It involved kids on their last day at school. There was a lot of signing of shirt, selfies and general hugs and a few screams.

Did you have something like this? I must have left on a different day to everyone else, there was nothing like that at all and I walked across the front of the school and down the drive alone.

It's often something small that triggers a memory. Children in a playground, playing on the swings. Nope. Going clothes shopping with friends. Nope.

Going into my 20s was the same. Out on the town with friends/mates. Nope. Friends coming over. Nope.

Why was this? I had no friends. I was afraid to make friend. Painfully shy and reclusive. In my job I could talk to people. I think wearing a sort of a uniform (I  wore a suit) it was easier to interact with people, I was allowed to do this, it was my job. Does that make any sort of sense?

It has taken me years to reach an understanding of all this. I think I know why I turned out this way, but it has only served to push me towards depression. Nowadays I don't want friends, I want to be alone  (said with accent). I've wasted more then ten years just wanting to stay at home and not talk to other people. Ten years! All my life I've tried to be away from people. I was suicidal when my first husband left me and even now I have a backup plan for if I'm widowed. I have no-one to care for me in old age if my husband passes away before me. There are some who would say they would care, but I don't believe them, I'm not really their family. They accept me now as married to tch but would not be interested in putting themselves out for me afterwards. How do I know this? At gatherings of tch's family no-one ever takes a photo of me. They take photos of everyone else, I've got numerous pics of tch opening christmas presents over the years but only one of me. Daft little reason, but it's the small things that tell the most. The larger gestures are expected, but the little ones speak volumes.

The happiest things in my life at the mo are the puppies. They are almost a year old now. Still not house trained, very messy on occasion, but we're getting there. If it's raining they just look at me as if to say, "You want me to go out there?!" and then do it in the house. Trouble is, they're bigger and stronger now as well. They can reach just about anything anywhere. Only safe place is the mantlepiece. The little one can jump onto the dining table, she's wrecked tch's briefcase, and post we leave on there, and they both love a coaster or a sofa cushion. Cute when they're asleep though. Dread to think what they're dreaming about though.

When I have upsetting memories I try to see that they can't be changed, they are in the past. Nothing can change this. Learn from them and then try to move on. Look for the positives, not the negatives. I stay here at home all day with only my pupps for company - but they are lovely and will encourage me to go out for a walk when I feel ready for it. Look for something positive, however small. I'ts always there.

This one's boring.

Once again I've had a really bad few weeks.
As usual, I'm not sure why. I can often identify the starting point, but not this time.

Depression is a shit. It can sneak up and wrap itself around me so easily, making it hard to even move about.

I don't know how this episode started, where it came from. I've spent days, sometimes weeks feeling so weak and tired that I'm unable to walk upstairs hardly. I say hardly because there's really no option, I have to get upstairs. Could I pee in a bucket? No. Well, I've never tried. So unless I can move the bathroom and bedroom downstairs, there's no choice.

I can't cope with much when I'm depressed. Generally I just want to sleep. To go to bed, pull the duvet over me and try my best to switch off from the world. I read once that the first sign of suicide is to want to go away somewhere and be alone, to get away from everything and everyone. I wonder if wanting to go to sleep and switch off is the same thing? Dunno but they're pretty similar.

Unfortunately (?) I can't switch off from the world because of the puppies. I've talked about them before. I must deal with them and their many poos and pees, usually in the house. Is this a good thing or a bad thing? It doesn't feel good to me sometimes, when I'm really low and wanting my bed.

I used to have a life. Not sure where it went, I used to have friends and a job. We used to enjoy the weekends. Now I don't want to leave the house and often just want my bed.

What a boring post this is. But this is what life with a depressive is, most of the time. On the times I have to go out I can be sparkly and appear happy and join in with a conversation. This is absolutely exhausting. I can't tell you what it takes out of me to do this. When I get back home I could sleep for a week. No-one knows this, no-one sees it. So many depressives are like this. Think about Robin Williams, a perfect example.

I'm going now. I need to go to sleep. xxx

I still miss her when I'm ironing

That's the cat again, sorry. When I would put up the ironing board she would always squawk at me, wanting attention. Her bed was nearby. I still expect to hear her.

My post today is not about missing her, it's about the way she lived her life. It's a lesson for us all, I think.

From the first day I had her as a little kitten, Katie was afraid of everything and hissed and spit at anything that came close to her. She had rare moments when she would allow me to stroke her, and then only on the top of her head. Anywhere else and you can look out!

As the only pet in the house, besides a budgie, she had full run of the place and would sleep on the end of the bed, sometimes. As a young cat she would come when I called most of the time. We moved house and she coped with that, grudgingly. Still was fearful of everything and hissed at it all.

My point? I'm getting there, honest.

If you live your life fearful of everything around you, and if you 'hiss and spit' at anything that comes near you, then you will not have a life. Rather, life will pass you by. Your life will never be enriched by laughter and friends. You will never know the joy of companionship or the happiness that comes from doing something for others. If you live your life into old age, still fearful, still 'spitting', then you will have accomplished nothing and experienced only fear.

Big words. I acknowledge that I live more like Katie at the moment. I don't go out of the house very often, I don't answer the phone and I certainly don't socialise unless I have to. But I can see the errors in this, I can see that my life would be so much better if I could move in a different direction.

My lovely Katie didn't have much of a life, she was so frightened by it. Here's a good point - she was unable to tell if another cat/dog was trying to make friends with her, she saw only something to be afraid of, something that wanted to attack her. So she missed out on having a companion to live with, when her life could have been so much better had she been able to befriend the other cat/dog. Make friends, try to be more comfortable around others, they are not going to bite you. Probably.

Depression is a bitch. The medication, the anti-depressants, are the crutch to help you to get back into life. They are not the cure. They will lift your mood sufficiently to enable you to begin the business of getting back to your life. But do it one step at a time, baby steps, little steps.

Little steps was probably the best piece of advice ever given to me by a healthcare professional. I was becoming very anxious that I was expected to jump straight back into life and I knew that I couldn't cope. Little steps are manageable little chunks, whatever works for you really.

I'm really tired now, so I'll talk about this some more another time x

Why am I here?

I sometimes wonder why I'm still here. Not entirely in a suicidal way, just simply why? There are so many other things I could be doing, places I could be going. My mental health dictates that I remain here, at home, away from scary things like... fresh air and the like. I must stay in, not go out.

My apologies, this entry rambles a bit. Brain is fried.

I have cut myself off from social media sites, hard to specify why. I think I felt obliged to join in, much as one would at a party, and I cannot cope there. Amazingly I don't miss it, considering I was on facebook and messenger every day previously. Mostly to thc's family, no-one on my side uses it very much. I have this need to switch off from everything. To silence everything.

I have two little ones to care for at the mo. They're two little puppies, about 2 months old now, I think. One has health problems, I think she came from a puppy farm. One of those you hear about, that does  not treat them well. She was full of worms when she came to us and now she walks funny. The vet said she might have the canine form of spina bifida. She doesn't know though, and happily waddles about trying to keep up with the other one. Let me see if I can find you a photo of them...

There, this is my favourite photo of them. They're a bit bigger now as this was taken 2 weeks ago. Yes they are very cute, but you would not believe how much mess they can create. They poo and pee more than they eat/drink, I'm sure of it!

I have hurt my back (again) a couple of days ago. It has been very difficult to clean up after them properly. They are gorgeous... when they're asleep. Preferably on me as well. Do you know what a puppy pad is? It's a large square of quilted paper for them to pee on. We are nearing the end of our 3rd box of 100 pads. I think I'm nearing the end of my rope as well!  They do the occasional pee on a pad, but most of the time they treat them as markers for where not to go!

I had an annual review this week with my mental health worker and her boss. They were more interested in the puppies. See, I think it's a very bad sign for me to be cutting myself off and wanting nothing to do with anyone. Isn't it the first stage of having suicidal feelings? Maybe I'm wrong. I'm the only one worried about it. I have an annual review with the psych next month, deep joy.

There was a reunion held recently of folk that I used to work with 30 years ago. I couldn't make myself go. I was so disappointed. One lady had travelled down from Lancs. We used to be very close, but I didn't go.

Well I'm going to say bye now, tch will be home in a minute.

Stay safe peeps xxx

What a lot of not a lot.

Well, there's not a lot happening at the moment. I'm not leaving the house much at all. I went out on the 6th Nov with tch, then not until the 19th Nov. Tch had been given tickets for the rugby, so I went with him. More about that in a minute. I next went out on 23rd Nov, my metal health worker E took me to a craft morning. With hindsight I really wasn't well enough to have gone there, but I did feel marginally better for going. Stress man. The last time I went out was 26th Nov, I had said we would deliver an old palette to a friend, so I could hardly stay at home really.

That's 4 times I've been out of the house this month. Each time I have to go out I get so anxious beforehand, and will often have a bout of diarrhoea as well. Sometimes just the thought of an event looming will make my insides contract. The worst part is not being able to control this, to have shaky hands, need the bathroom fairly urgently and feel in such a state of panic.

The day we had tickets for the rugby was good in a lot of ways, but oh so stressful in others. It was good simply because I went, and in doing so I achieved a lot of things. I must tell you firstly that I have hurt my foot. It's my heel to be precise, plantar fasciitis. Because of this tch drove as close to the stadium as possible and I got out there. Then I was to find somewhere to wait for him to park the car and walk back* to wherever I was waiting. This meant I would be on my own, in a very very crowded city, until he walked back. He had a terrible job finding somewhere to park, drove round and round finding nothing. He said later that there were a lot of other drivers doing exactly the same thing, and we were two hours early for the match. Eventually he ended up paying £15 to park for 4 hours. Then he had to walk all the way back into the city to me.

I quickly found a Starbucks very close by and ordered/paid for my coffee. Although I was listening for my name, I missed it being called: the place was rammed full of people. By the time I asked about it, it was on the side, almost cold. The girl was lovely and made me another one, but I felt so stupid. Anyway, I have learnt how to deal with being on my own and I found a table in the window where I would see tch when he arrived. By sitting with my back to the room I couldn't see how busy it was, and thus I felt a bit calmer.

About an hour later tch arrived, we had another hot drink and then went to the stadium. Match was wonderful, I've never paid £5 for a burger before, I must be out of touch with what things cost. The walk back to the car was awful, I went slowly and stopped a lot. It would have been no good waiting for tch to drive back towards the stadium and pick me up as nothing was moving. We got back to the car, but it was almost another hour before we got out onto the main road. Total gridlock!!

So. I'm very pleased I went, and on the whole it was a very positive experience. I swear to you that nobody would know how unwell I am. I am very good at doing the sparkly thing. The amount of adrenaline that this takes is huge and I'm very tired afterwards. Why is it so important to do this? Why do I want to hide my mental health condition so much? I think maybe it's less stressful if people don't know. Does that make any sense at all?

 I was supposed to be going out today, to the craft thing again. Made an excuse, couldn't cope with it. There will be other days, I'll go another day. Just want to stay at home and sleep a lot.

The importance of a little bit of peace.

We are all speeding through our days, life has us on the fast track whether we want it or not.

My life is generally at a very slow pace but that fast track is all relative. Often it feels as though everything is moving too fast for me. I am not well enough to work at the moment but still life can get on top of me. I've not been well just lately (depression) and today makes 9 days that I've not been out of the house. I can't cope with people and the smallest thing has me confused. Tomorrow though I plan to go out. My mental health worker is going to give me a lift to a craft class. I really don't want to go, because I would just rather stay here on my own. It's better that way. I've said I'll go anyway.

Tch is in the process of making me a little patio area where I can sit and not be overlooked by anyone. It's not finished yet but this morning I sat out there with a coffee. It's amazing the difference to sit there instead of in the house, apart from the cold that is! No-one can see me, and so no-one will make an attempt to say hello or start a conversation. My neighbours are lovely but I don't want to talk to anyone. Sitting there, with the birds singing, was magical.

We all need that little bit of calm in our lives. Even if you have a crap life like mine, there is still stress in there somewhere. As soon as I replied to the text this morning, to say I would go out tomorrow, my insides started doing somersaults and since then I've had a runny bum. Sorry, too much info? Even thinking about it now makes me feel weak. The trouble is, once I go out for one thing, like the craft lesson tomorrow, one of the girls will suggest we do something else. Something like the cinema or getting together for a coffee. The way I am at the moment I just cant cope with that, and I don't want to give offence by saying no.

Where is your little bit of peace? What is it for? e.g. yoga, meditation or simply sitting and relaxing, like me.

This is my little bit of peace. The garden's a bit of a mess but the view is lovely. Btw, do you like my pallet? I made it from an old coffee table.

Let me bear all...

What was the first teddy bear/doll or other object that you loved as a child?

Mine was a bear, Little Ted to be precise. He was very much worse for wear, his body was held together by one of my Grandad's handkerchiefs and all his limbs were just straggly bits of fur fabric. He was very small, but then, so was I. There was a family member who used to poke fun at him and threaten to throw him away. I was scared about this at the time, but I doubt she really meant it. Sadly he didn't last very long, his 'injuries' were too severe.

Then when I was in junior school one of the girls had two teddies, in different colours and she gave one to me. This sticks in my mind so much because she gave it to me for no reason other than that she wanted to. My Grandad picked me up from school that day and he saw it when we were walking home. Lots of questions about how I came by it, and I think the parents were later contacted as well. Now I felt guilty, so many questions had made me feel that I shouldn't have it, that it was wrong. I spent most of my home life scared that I'd done something wrong because he was so strict. Always a fierce and accusing face.

It was fine though, and I kept the bear. I think the pupil who gave it to me emigrated, but I still think of her gift and how she made me feel that I was liked.

Was this the reason I became so attached to the bear? He came everywhere with me, wherever I went. I named him Cuddly, and cuddle him I did! I cuddled him so much that he went almost completely flat. His limbs had hardly any stuffing in the main arm/leg, it was all compressed into hard pads in the ends. He had hardly any nose left, I was almost all kissed away. I wasn't happy in my childhood, and I think this little bear was my friend through it. 

So, what makes us choose the toy that we love the most? For me I think it was because of the kindness shown from another little girl, in the gift of the bear. I think there's usually an association involved of some sort, with either a person, a place or a time.

How long did you stick with a beloved toy? I had Cuddly from about 6yrs old and he was with me for years and years. Today though, a child will have a toy, say one from a Disney film, and hug it and love it but only for a short while. They move on to the next one whilst the first toy is left sitting aside. Is this because of the amount of different toys that there are now? Today's child will probably have much more in the way of toys than we had when I was small. Maybe that's why they don't stay with one, that it's forgotten so quickly.

When I was in my 20s and my then boyfriend was moving in with me, he persuaded me to give loads of stuff to a charity shop. Yes, the bear went. I seriously doubt the charity shop would have wanted him so he probably ended up in a bin somewhere. I've regretted that ever since. That little bear got me through some tough years, I'd have preferred to know he was tucked away in a drawer somewhere.

Yeth, and I'm only thixteen...

Sorry about the title, it's only going to mean anything if you are over 45 and used to watch a certain vet's comedy (in the UK). Well why the title? I have increasingly felt that having a mental health condition equates with having all of one's brain cells euthanised, or at the very least, dopificated. Okay, I made that last bit up. It's true though, I have been spoken down to in a condescending fashion so many tims.

Yes, when I am very low I can get confused. When I'm depressed I'm almost always tired as well, this adds to my confusion. Also, my memory is dreadful and I forget the simplest of things directly after being told. But, I have not been rendered stupid! I recall having to attend an interview to justify my ill health and my need for sickness benefit. During the interview I passed some comment, I can't remember exactly what I said, and the interviewer did a cartoon-like double-take. It was as if she'd caught me out for still having a brain. This from a presumably qualified person. Words fail me. Actually words did indeed fail me on this occasion, I kept my mouth shut as much as possible for the remainder of the interview.

When I first started taking lithium I had the first prescription from the psychiatrist, so it was a month after it was prescribed that I requested a repeat script from my gp surgery. They told me over the phone that they had no knowledge of this and had not received any correspondence from the psych about it. On ringing the psych's secretary, yes they had written to the gp so they should know all about it.

This type of thing has happened on several occasions over the last few years. If I didn't have the wherewithall to sort it out, what the hell would have happened to me? That morning of the lithium thing, I stressed and cried and thought about giving up, not taking it at all being as no-one would give it to me. I knew I shouldn't stop taking it, that it was a drug to come off slowly, gradually reducing the amount. In the end I wrote down who to phone and what to say. I thought if I can't do it then I'll ask tch to do it for me. Eventually the letter was faxed to the surgery and they raised a script for me. Even that sounds simple but it wasn't. It was numerous phone calls, get down to the surgery, wait for the script, go to the pharmacy, wait for the drugs, get back home... collapse.

I really cannot stress this enough. If I did not have the power of mind and speech to sort these things out, where would I be?? I know a lady with a worse mental health disorder, she would in no way be able to deal with a situation like this. What would become of her? I am so very lucky to have my husband's help if I need it, this lady has no partner. In this particular event there was very little help offered by the healthcare professionals. Whist I understand that my problem was not expected and their workload already full, I'm still here and still had the problem.

Everywhere we go these days those who are working are stretched to capacity. Back when I was last in a job we were assessed every day. We had to complete a form daily, being allowed a set amount of time for each task. That's something lik 3.48 minutes for this and 12.55 minutes for that. Crazy. All of my daily minutes against my working hours for that day gave the result showing how much % of the day I had been working. If I didn't achieve at least 98% over a month I would be given a warning, another month and my pay would be docked. I'm quite sure my employers weren't the only ones adopting this practice. Is it any wonder then that there is no time for unexpected problems to show up? Then when those more vulnerable need help with something, often the person on the end of the phone just wants them gone, they haven't got time for this! Some of the time I am one of the more vulnerable, but thankfully when my depression is not so bad, I can deal with things. It's those others though, who's looking after them?

Have you had an experience like this? Tell me about it, please.

Need a bomb behind me

That's what my Grandma always used to say whenever I wasn't moving fast enough or working hard enough. 'You need a bomb behind you' was generally heard directly after a school report had been received or when I was (she considered) dawdling.

Well Grandma, I need one of those now too. It's been very difficult to motivate myself into doing anything. The housework drifts on by; take my glasses off and it's all good. The thing that I really need the motivation for is jewellery making. Need to make some and get it up for sale. Start an Etsy shop. Always though, I'll just have a little sleep... and it doesn't happen. I'll readily admit that once I start this then I have to become more organised with postage and packaging materials etc. where really all I want to do is disappear beneath the duvet and make it all go away. I don't want to join the real world, I don't want to play. It's all too much, I get so tired and lack both motivation and concentration. Once I start, I'll drown. Sometimes I can't string a sentence together, so how am I to do this?

I know what tch would say, one bite at a time. Yes, I get that, but once I start, I'll drown. It's still the same. Then my thoughts take a downhill spiral and it goes all 'I can't do this' or 'I can't do anything'.

Okay, find the positive. I have 3 necklaces up for sale at the moment. Straight away I'm negative: they've been up for almost 14 days and none have sold yet. What's the point? I know what the point is, I'm not stupid, but still the thought sits there. Slap bang in the middle of everything. What's the point? It's all pointless. Knowing what the point is - creating something, selling it, enjoying it, making money - does not move the negative statement from centre stage for me.

I tried CBT a couple of times, well, twice. I did a course in it. Yeah, I understand it, understand the way it works. The big stumbling block for me is, I can learn to think differently, but the different thoughts only come in alongside the negative ones. Example: the example they usually start with is the one where you have seen a friend on the other side of the street, waved at them but had no response. The CBT way of thinking is that maybe they didn't see me, were preoccupied, several reasons instead of the big one - they were ignoring me, didn't want to see me. Now I can consider all of the positives in this situation, but it doesn't stop that negative thought being there in amongst all the others, muscling it's way to the front and taking a bow.

Turmoil, just turmoil

Turmoil, that's where I am. Turmoil.

Didn't want to go out this morning, no change there then. I'm not sure whether I'm glad I went, or not. All the way there I was feeling really disconnected, as though everything was happening a distance away, and to somebody else. We were very late arriving at the craft club with a half an hour left before it finished. I understand about my mental health lady having a meeting first, but it always overruns and then we are always late getting there. It worked out okay for me, I didn't want to be there anyway. I chatted a bit, and a lady showed me a little about book folding. That was really interesting but I don't have the patience for the crafts that I do at the moment without taking anything else up as well.

The turmoil? Well, I've been waiting on an email about accommodation next August and where we need to be is totally booked solid. I'd got to the stage of investigating outlying villages and the park and ride service. However, and here's the part I'm excited about, I have found an apartment, right where we need to be and it's absolutely wonderful. It's knowing we'd have this to go back to at any time is giving me the confidence to go in the first place. I wouldn't have to face a restaurant for breakfast, and it's only down the road to where my family are staying. They replied this afternoon, yes it's available, but it's expensive. He said they usually charge double the price at that time (at least he's honest about it) but will do us a special rate as we're staying 5 nights. My family are paying a big chunk of it as a Christmas present to us both, but it still leaves us paying a big price, plus spending money for 5 days. Am waiting for tch to come home and see what he thinks. I appreciate it's not that much money really, but we rarely go away and money is tight. August is in the school summer holidays and he doesn't get paid for six weeks. Bad timing.

Also, it will be lovely to see my family, well most of them. There is one person who will be there and I really want to avoid her and her husband. I'll not be able to though, and she will badger me to go and stay with her, especially now that I'll have come away for 5 days. I just have to think of a reason why I won't do it, and stick to it. I'm not going to allow her to spoil my holiday. This will be the first time I've been away from home for more than two nights, since 2002. I'm not going to allow anything to spoil it.

All of that is a year away. I need to concentrate on the present and make sure I go out more. I've made an appointment to have my hair cut soon, so I must go out on my own then. I'm going out tomorrow with tch, to the registry office in town. I need a copy of my Aunty and Uncle's marriage certificate. Apparently they can have a telegram from the Queen on their diamond wedding anniversary, and she'll love all that.

Who's a hectic bunn then! To me it feels like it's very busy. To most people they could do all that in the course of a day, but for me it's a lot.

Cross your fingers for me about the accommodation!

Could try harder C+

Well that's how I feel about it, could try harder. Life has been a bit better lately and as always that's when I start to beat myself up, that I could do better if I tried harder. When I begin to do something I want to do it now, want it to work now, not have to do it gradually. Heaven forbid I have to learn to do it, that's when the real impatience sets in. I am a nightmare to train in anything, expecting it to go right the first time I attempt it. It's another thing that I can recognise in myself now, and gradually try to be more patient both with the task and with myself.

For the first time in several weeks I went to the craft club on Weds. They are very friendly. I took with me the rag rug stuff, which I've not touched since last year. I need to take something that does not require much thought because I can't hold a conversation at the same time. They said lovely things about it, and about the necklace I'd brought for one of the ladies. The lady who runs the club took photos and later they were on the website. I am very touched by all of this, but still cannot stop myself from thinking they're not that good and the ladies were only being polite. I know, I know, she wouldn't have put the photos on if she didn't think them worthy. It's hard to change a way of thinking when I've always thought this way. I can always find something wrong with the things I make, an imperfection someone else may not spot. Then it's not acceptable, not perfect.

There it is, 'it's not perfect'. Why does everything have to be perfect? Where does this method of thinking come from? I think it might be my Grandma, she used to say 'what will people think?' frequently. It feels like the most important thing was to look right (define right!) and to do the right things. The right things when I was a little girl was to always have my white knee socks pulled up (elastic was provided) and to always wear a dress on Sundays.

I carried this belief with me into adulthood, always ironing my clothes perfectly so there was not a crease to be seen. My hair had to be perfect and if someone opened a window while the car was moving, noooo! Again, everything had to be perfect.

It's only in recent years that I've stopped that. I can see where the belief came from, and it wasn't right. Now I am more relaxed and I do my best not to worry about what others may think. It still gets me sometimes, but nowhere near as much.

Shitty few days - where did they come from?

Bit of a shitty couple of days. Feels so much worse coming after some really good days. I just feel really low. Not suicidal low, so it could be worse.

Yesterday was a family birthday, my son-in-law D. All of tch's kids were going to the little get together, bringing most of the grandchildren too. It was only about a mile away from our house. I couldn't go, I just couldn't think straight and was so very tired. I knew I would have to 'sparkle' playing with the grandkids, and I wasn't well enough for that. Besides this, when I'm depressed I spend too much time thinking about how not many of them call me Nanna, and how they wouldn't care whether I was there or not. Seems that last part is true, because only one person has said they hope I'm feeling better, and that was D, after I messaged him to say I was sorry to have missed the party. I know tch always tells me that everyone asked after me, he always says that when my depression has stopped me from attending something. The thing is, how do I know that's true? Is he trying to make me feel better. When he says that I'm not coming along, the automatic response is to say 'ok, I hope she's feeling better soon'. That is not the same as either messaging me or texting me, to show that they care. It would mean a lot if one of the kids showed they cared. As it is, I always feel as though I am only an appendage to tch, I come along with him and they're stuck with me. All the kids are aged 30+ and so are quite capable of doing that. I would like to think that if someone wasn't able to come to a birthday party because they were unwell, that I would follow it up later to see how they were and to show I was thinking of them.

I've always had a bit of a thing about tch's family, I don't think they want me in their lives really. It's like they are nice to me because we are married. Whenever I see them no-one asks about anything in my life. How are my family? I ask about theirs. They have no interest in what may be happening in my life, and only talk about what is happening in theirs. That is probably a bit harsh, but the way I feel at the moment, that is the way it seems.

I recognise that when I am depressed I see all the negatives. However, when something is still the way that I saw it when I was depressed, then surely it must be true.

I'm getting a lot better at recognising when I'm only seeing the negatives, and I can think to myself 'that will look different when I'm well'. Like when I'm low I always think the house is dirty. When I'm not so low it doesn't look like that. It's not fabulous, it could always do with a clean, but it doesn't look like I believed when depressed. I would really love to be proved wrong about tch's family, to see that they like me and are interested in me. They are the ones I see most because my own family  live 170+miles away, and are very few.

D'you know, I think I've hit the nail on the head there, 'and are interested in me'. They are always very nice to me, they remember my birthday and some of them remember me at mother's day (there are 4 children) but because they don't ask any questions about me, I think they are just not interested in me. They would not dream of being impolite to me, out of respect for their father, but that's as far as it goes. I shall think again about this when I am not feeling so depressed and observe how they behave with me. Don't hold your breath.

Quick update on the furry situation: the dog's holding on in there. The latest tumour doesn't seem to be growing as fast as the others. The kitten is allowed outside - Halleflippinlujah! She's being very timid and not staying out long enough to learn to poo outside yet. The other two cats have been shown repeatedly that the cat flap is now unlocked, but it seems that the brain cell they once shared has been lost. Sigh. Never mind, we'll get there. The kitten still follows me everywhere and sleeps behind my knees - the best anti-depressant ever.

A complete lack of self confidence.

Such a quiet day today. Tch was out of the house for several hours helping family to take rubbish to the tip. Not something I could have been much help with, requires a few muscles to lift and carry. So I stayed here and got a few little tasks done. I'm noticing that I'm procrastinating a lot when it comes to having a go at my craft stuff. This morning I spent a while cleaning old cutlery in readiness for making dog/cat food forks. When I was finished though I didn't have a try at making one, I've just brought them upstairs and left them in my craft room. These days I only spend time in here on my laptop, it's ages since I actually made anything. Any time I sit here and have a try, I get this 'I can't do this' feeling and everything turns out rubbish. It's a complete lack of self confidence. Recognising it as such is a step in the right direction, I guess.