"DAMAGE & Devotion!"
08.11.24 - FULL OF LIFE & SHIT. TIME & DATES WITH DRINK & DEATH (stress). LIMERENCE AUDIO-POEM. DIARY OF A DICKHEAD. LOVE & GRATEFULNESS.
Hello Everyone!
If you are reading this you have been patient enough to stick with me during my peaks and troughs, ebbs and flows in getting my shit together. I’ll be honest with you. I have been losing subscribers on this publication and with each person who decides to go, I lose a touch of confidence in myself.
I end up feeling unwanted and let the rest of you down by my being ‘too afraid’ to post again. Missing days here and there on a supposedly daily newsletter could be one of the reason people get sick and fed up with me. I feel like life is too short to try and please everybody.
I know that when I have at least one small purpose each day - I am happier. Even though I am under investigations with the medical hospital for suspected Cancer, I feel more full of life (apart from fatigue, a sense of doom, depression and strangely ‘boredom’), HAS BEEN REPLACED WITH DETERMINATION. I want to come back daily. PLEASE SUBSCRIBE AND STAY WITH ME.. (it’s FREE )
I know that I am not yet in what I call ‘A State of Emergency’ medically speaking. All I want to do is enjoy this time where I have the ability and mental capacity to still try and write. I can only do what I feel like doing.
I’m using my time on this platform to come back to you Daily as a kind of ‘written word bucket list’. If each day I can come up with something new to say that has meaning to me, then I consider that to be a good way to be a better bit of me. I am delighted with everyone who is here to see. Thank you.
REMEMBER, REMEMBER…
8:15 - 5 November 2024
Waking up with a song in my head but couldn’t quite pinpoint the name of it until I sat down with a cold cup of coffee from last night. I went to bed early and left it sitting on my desk. The song is Zombie by Jamie T.
I’m thinking about my Mum and how her life might change if the news I receive today is not good. I can feel the breath of tension and silence in the atmosphere, which isn’t usual here, as my partner sleeps next to our dog (Lola) in bed.
I was afraid to write anything, but when I looked at the clock and it was only 8:08 am I realised I had at least an hour to kill before anyone else woke up. My Mum requested a wake up call at 9:00 am, my partner doesn’t sleep in much longer than that time either.
I love to write in the mornings when people are not with me yet but today I don’t feel like talking very much, not to anyone, not typing these words on my Chromebook and definitely don’t want to think to myself, so I am here writing because it’s less terrifying than engaging with my internal monologue. I feel like a dead woman walking and the Zombie song was quite apt. It almost got a raised eyebrow out of me.
11:30
I’ve done a bit of talking, worrying and more surprising to me is that I have done some laughing, when it hurts to smile (when I think I might never be happy again) I have felt love from within and coming from all directions except my partner who I was hoping would give it to me the most.
13:47
My telephone appointment to find out about my cancer blood test result is scheduled for 15:55 pm and my partner has already secured 18 cans of Stella. He is worried about me, apparently!
14:59
He seems quite content playing his PlayStation on the headset with his brother. Good. I’d never wish for him to feel the way I feel right now. I wanted him to know how I am feeling. I wished he would understand my feelings. I’m glad that he doesn’t have a clue, because he wouldn’t be able to crack on and enjoy himself the way he does. I got upset at first. Now I know better, and I am no better because I have lined up 3 cans of his Stella for my consumption too. 1 down.
So, I had my phone consultation. (5 November 2024)
I was 2 cans of Stella tipsy when I took the call, much to my regret. The one question my more-drunk-than-me partner kept asking me to ask was: “what are my chances of having Cancer” the doctor’s response was two words: high-intermediate.
The rest of the call went accordingly. I was mortified when he reminded me of the reasons why I am being further tested and referred for more investigations including an ‘anal-cam’ as I call it (my ‘muse’ made me laugh when I said I wasn’t looking forward to it, he was like “ooh, I’m looking forward to YOUR anal cam!” haha - he’s so funny and cute!).
Anyway, the embarrassing part was when he reminded me and asked me to confirm that (he said it in medical terminology) but I had to confirm that I am still experiencing EXCESSIVE fucking FARTING! OMG - eeek! I was like um yes it is a lot, a very a lot, I’m not comfortable with it. (When in reality, before I realised it wasn’t right or ‘natural’ to be doing THAT so often, I would be loudly parrrrping away, laughing about it and not feeling no way!).
I used to think it was funnier and try and do it EVEN louder. I’m a YOB. At heart, I wasn’t afraid of it behind closed doors. But now, it’s come back to bite me on the arse - figuratively and literally. Here’s my appointments going forward. The only one that isn’t registered yet it the throat camera. That is still upcoming. Can’t wait to tell my ‘muse’ about that! He will be wanting to me to go see him (virtually, joking) to practice my GAG reflex. Ha!
8 November 2024 - 1:50 am
The evil little bastard has dragged me out of sleep (verbally with insults) after numerous attempts to disturb me (with other insulting demands and behaviour designed to annoy, like telling me I need to move up which is perfectly reasonable, but by pulling the pillow from underneath my head and throwing it towards the wall I kept trying to crawl into to give him even more space than three quarters of the bed!)
I had been asleep since before 9 pm and for at least an hour, during the night, he has since joined me. It was 1:50 am when I finally had no choice but to slowly leave the bed, because all the exchanged words, his angry tone of voice had animated the dog to the point she had gone and got one of her cloth toys and was destroying it at the bottom of the bed. He kept on throwing his vile mouth at me as I was sitting up ready to leave them. That meant the dog kept lunging at me with her toy, she seems to be a puppet on his string.
When he is angry and aggressive towards me she mirrors him. He knows this of course. I found it difficult to climb out of the bed, over him and past her because any slight move I make she preempts it to be me ‘retaliating against him’ I had to be careful not to move too quickly and allow her to grab the clothes I was wearing in her panic.
I went to the window for a cigarette in the next room, our living room, she followed me racing around with her toy. She's only a baby. She’s my baby and she was upset. I worry about this behaviour for her future. If she does it with somebody else who doesn’t love her the way I do. Then I know she will suffer for it, and it’s all him. He makes her this way. He then insists that I ‘force’ her out into the garden (on the lead as is our way) for her to go wee. Another demand designed to inflict danger and distress on me.
I rose to the challenge and managed to calm her down. She retreats back to the bedroom and jumps on the bed where he is. He helps put her harness on because he has no other choice, she is right near him and I throw it to him saying ‘help me put it on her if you want her out’. She reluctantly follows me to the garden where we greedily breathe in the cool night air. Relief.
I sit on the metal chair with the lead extended and quietly let her roam and relax before counting her in for stepping onto the scruffy grass. “ONE, TWO…” and she likes it as a little kick start. We have our little routine and she pees on three. (Most of the time anyway, sometimes we do this ‘one-two’ jig a few times before the end result).
I don’t know about her but I do cherish these small moments of light relief when it’s just us. In the garden we can breathe easy without the atmosphere of tangible stress and unease. HE is completely self-absorbed, careless with the emotions of her and me, obvious to the unfairness of what he speaks and fully aware of how his actions are destroying our peace.
I often mention the muse and this boils down to a phase in my life that lasted about a year and has never left me. If I have loved you once, I will always love you. Capeesh! Capiche! Kapeesh!
An amazingly talented POET and personally ‘enlightening’ pal and knowledgeable human being… who I am still cringing about ‘bothering a bit’ the other night. Did promise to write me a poem, about LIMERENCE (a prompt I gave him and told him about my actions) and he recently uploaded the finished Masterpiece. For which I am BUZZIN and DELIGHTED to have had the chance to hear and read, and see. I am forever indebted to you for your advice (you know what I’m talking about), your company and your time. & POETRY. Thank you… CHECK OUT SOME OF HIS WORK HERE:
5:13 am - still on 8 November 2024
I have been writing to my friend again this evening,and in the process of doing so, I have calmed myself down. I want to try and help my partner with the emotions he is feeling. He won’t extend the opportunity of showing or telling me what is upsetting him. Anyone could say or imagine that it is the stress, caring-loving, worry about what’s happening with me which will be troubling him. It’s just strange how it manifests, if that is the shit which is getting to him, which he keeps bottled up, how it is displayed as hatred and rage towards me. I haven’t really said anything about the major details of that which has caused me to ‘write-react’ like that written above. All I know is that there is LOVE in me. If it dies with me, then so be it. There is LOVE and DEVOTION. x