Each time the phone rings or the post comes, I tighten up. I’ve
asked Mum’s doctor for information about her health so that I can decide
whether there are any grounds to reduce the care home fees. Her doctor was
involved last year when I had al the trouble with the EPA and Social Services
and I guess I’m scared what I might find out. I’ve also written to Devon County
Council and Mum’s solicitor.
I’ve had a morbid fear of confrontation all
my life. As a result, loads of people have used me as doormat and I’ve come to
expect that kind of treatment. It’s very very hard for me to stand up for
myself but oh so easy to take the blame and feel the guilt, even when I know I’ve
done nothing wrong.
My emotions are so near the surface at the
moment that anything can have me in
floods of tears – a kind word, a daft film, seeing other people happy – they
can all set me off. What I want right now, more than anything, is to be part of
a family, to have somebody to love who loves me back. Whether that will stay a
dream forever, I don’t know, but (here comes the cliché) while there’s life,
there’s hope.
On Wednesday I’m giving a 40 minute talk at
the West Yorkshire Playhouse as a lunch time special. Right now, I have no idea
what I’m going to talk about, but something will occur to me I’m sure. Give me
an audience, it doesn’t matter how small, and I can forget I’m me and become somebody
else entirely. How I’d love to be able to do that when there’s nobody else
around.
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