Botanic Gardens

I went to the Botanic Gardens this morning with B, J and M. There were some lovely flowers there. I found myself getting a bit ratty, keeping track of where the children were and whether they were knocking anybody over or falling into ponds. I was glad when we could sit down for our picnic in front of the folk band.

I was slightly wary of the dirt that one accumulates from contact with toddlers, but dealt with it much better than in the past. I also worried I’d said inappropriate things to B but I just couldn’t really be bothered to worry about it. I apologised to God and tried to move on.

I wasn’t however in a great mood walking home. I wanted to hurt myself and decided that a bad scar on my wrist would be worth it.

Thankfully by the time I got home, I was able to control myself. It probably helped that my housemate was home although that also meant I couldn’t go to bed. I found it hard staying up, I don’t exactly know what it is but I really don’t like it!

I also didn’t like the fact that she had started counting calories and it made my stomach clench into a ball. I regretted the ice cream I ate at the gardens. Thankfully I had mostly got over this not too long later and continue to fatten up.

There was some post from the surgery waiting for me on the side. I panicked: was it a letter from the GP rejecting me or just blood test results? Or maybe it was from the Practice to tell me I need to go less often... it was okay, just a letter inviting me to a hospital appointment for my PoTS.