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It's been so hard - I know I'm always saying that, but honestly, on and on, like we're a family off Eastenders or some other crappy unrealistic soap opera.

Anyway, it looks like I will be fetching my girl on Thursday, tomorrow as it's the middle of the fucking night again, and moving her into her new care home ten minutes from here. You'd think I'd be happy about that but I'm terrified and traumatised and generally fucked up. Partly because YD is too fucked up to help at all, in any way and I am so alone with all this responsibility that I CANNOT BEAR IT, but I have to, cos what are the options? Leave ED where she is? Dumped in front of the telly she can't see in the day room with all the other non-communicating people, waiting to die? No. So no option. And I'm going to sleep in her room with her for a few nights as I also CANNOT BEAR the thought of her waking up in a strange place, surrounded by people whose voices she doesn't recognise. And I don't want to sleep there. I'm scared of it. And I'm going to have to miss yoga again, there was none this Monday because of the bank holiday and missing yoga is crap.

Apart from that it's all fucking brilliant. Or not.

Hope you are all well, do say hello if you've passed through, big hugs and love and all that. I hope to be back properly soon.

Grateful for: a bed; a garden; food in the fridge; the mental health crisis team; the wheelchair van

Sleep tight xx

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