I don’t know why I do it, but I do. I have this unhealthy obsession with pretending to people that my life is trundling along with absolutely no problems and everything is fantastic when in actual fact it’s falling apart rapidly and being held in place by the tiniest of threads.
So many things are out of place at the moment. Life at home is harder than it has been in a long time and I simply do not know what to do about it anymore. The Met Police are at their wits end having to come out to the house most nights after being called by the neighbours. My Mum is not taking a blind bit of notice to anything that anyone tells her about the situation and I’m not sure what to do for the best. My Dad’s drinking has hit a record high; he managed to drink a litre of gin in 2 days along with copious bottles of wine. He won’t accept he’s an alcoholic and seems to find it amusing whenever anyone mentions the amount he consumes.
I have been attending A&E at the Chelsea & Westminster too often recently. I ended up there twice in less than 24 hours last weekend and saw the same junior doctor on both occasions; the second time he saw me he sutured the wounds without local anaesthetic. Allison is worried that because of this treatment I am now neglecting myself as I am refusing to go to A&E no matter how severe the damage is. She thinks I should write to the NHS trust but I can’t be bothered. The doctor would only lie and to be fair he’s done me a favour; I’m not going to A&E anymore so I’m not wasting their time.
I see Dr Mc for the first time in 4 weeks next week. I don’t think he’s going to be too impressed with what he sees.
Ruth
