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Well, I am officially quite mental at the moment - not as mental as poor Stacey on Eastenders, but still no good to man nor beast. I have spent a lot of time this week sat in my parked car, unable to decide where to go. Last night things kicked off with Bloke who has had more than enough of living with a mentalist I would imagine, so this morning, in the pouring rain, I flung everything I thought I might need into the car (pink rug, lots of wool, drugs, pictures of my children, coffee pot, pillows, fleecy blanket) and set off into the unknown. Luckily YD texted "Ring me!" which I thought meant she was in need, so I pulled over and rang her and she knew straight away from my voice that all was not good, so she persuaded me to go to the recovery centre, where I was treated with kindness and respect and now I'm at YD's and who knows what tomorrow may bring. I do feel a bit calm now but only because I'm not thinking about what lies ahead.


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