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Had counselling early, OK, but he's off on his annual three week holiday to Asia which makes me feel a bit lost.

Then had appt with the stop-smoking advisor, which I wanted to go to as she checks your carbon monoxide levels (4 - same as non-smoker already), but she managed to do my head right in. Or I managed to let her do my head in. She has one of those voices, kind of whiny, can't think of an example, but really fucking annoying and patronising and she kept telling me she thought I was, "Really brave, no really, you're so brave, you should be proud of yourself," in a way that made me want to punch her while I was in there, but when I got out I just fell into my car and wept for fucking ages (there's a bit of a theme, a kind of wet, weeping theme running through these posts. I have noticed).

Then I couldn't go home, and I couldn't not go home, so I ended up sitting in my car, first in a car park by the beach, then in one by a supermarket close to YD's house, just incapacitated, unable to decide where to go, trying to phone the 24 hour mental health crisis number I was given, or do something, anything. It was more or less getting dark when I finally texted YD, asking if she was home and fancied a visit, which she was and did, so I went round hers, then took her out to look at allotments, which was a nice interlude, dramatic sky, rainbow, purpose, but then I couldn't go home again and sat in my car parked on the high street in the dark till I was very cold.

I'm gonna try harder tomorrow.

On the plus side, I have written this fairly honest account of a bad day and I did take a pic of leaves for the photo a day challenge:

I am struggling to feel grateful as I am full of rage and indignation. But when I make myself listen, I am grateful for the years I have had with my girl; for the kindness she is shown by some of the carers; for YD looking after her nephew with a big open heart; for not being flooded and for not being hungry.

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