Walking has been entertaining. I take 10 paces, and then have to crouch down until the pain goes away.
Interestingly, only one person has ever stopped in the street to enquire if I needed help. She was a charming young lady, and its a measure of how sparkly and sideways the world had gone that I didn't ask her for her phone number. Instead I said through clenched teeth, "No, its ok. Just a bit of back pain. Be fine in a minute. Thanks."
I suppose I probably looked like a drunk about to throw up or something.
It has, however, caused me to re-evaluate my own attitude to people in distress in the street. Would I have stopped to help? I'd like to think so, but I'm not sure...
However, after the suicidal feelings of the last few days I'm pretty content. My family have rallied around in a very touching way; shopping has been bought, flowers placed around the place and The Uncle turned up with a curry and some beer (which I watched him drink with envy.) We watched a DVD, he listened patiently while I prattled on and then left when it came time to take tonight's meds.
You see, thats been the problem. Something I hadn't expected to hit so soon. Now I live alone, there's no-one to - how can I put it - to be *there* when I'm vulnerable. I'm glad I chose to live within walking distance of family.
Thats it for tonight. I'll be funny again tomorrow. Promise.
