the last bad week?

Tuesday,

Very bad IBS. At least five visits to the toilet during the broken night's sleep. Finally climbed out of bed at 4:30am. Yesterday afternoon. Failed again. Two days of sobriety and no more. Nothing to do in the afternoon - once I arrived from the allotment in Leeds - around 13:30. So I bought some groceries and then proceeded to drink. Was I craving it or was I lonely? The loneliness receded a little in North Bar where I stayed for four bottles of beer. I'd had two halves in Brownhill and Co and two more in Whitelocks. Everywhere was pretty desolate with the rain falling along Briggate. A wet Tuesday afternoon. Excellent work in the morning with Lola. And quite a bit of stuff on the allotment. Planted all the remaining corn which I hope develop? These ones I brought back from around Leon last year on the second section of the Camino Frances.

And I know I can do three days sober. Before heading to Le Puy-en-Velay I had no problem and felt I'd done something very good. But now I know that if I don't fill my day then I fail... I noticed that the petanque group down on The Ings in Wetherby meets on a Tuesday and a Saturday afternoon... I have felt like joining in since I saw some guys in Fão in Portugal playing... 

5am coffee. Washing my bedding. I shouldn't leave the flat today, but I have a dental appointment. It's nothing serious. The plate in my mouth is a little loose, but I hardly wear it to be honest - it's mainly for show.

Looks like I was back at the flat around 3pm and I remember telling the kids to stop kicking the ball against my door. Poor kids being stuck in the lobby on a wet Tuesday afternoon...

The sun has risen and I have to put yesterday where is now is - a memory. Gone. No more. Nothing...

***

A pigeon had decided to perch on the window frame in my front room. It shocked me as it flew off when I came in to close the window in the early morning... It was a bit chilly.

And I am not leaving the flat this Wednesday. I really must stay sober. And can't handle going to Wetherby and then coming back again later... The flat does require cleaning and sorting do the windows.

Day one once again. Yesterday I definitely binged. I definitely was back at the flat around 3pm. In an hour and a half I put away five halves and four bottles. Why? And I could absolutely see myself doing it too. The beer was disappearing down my throat instantly. I didn't read a book. I didn't chill out. I just poured that toxic substance into my tiring body. The morning was so precious too with Lola up towards Deighton Bar and then being on the allotment where I actually had the first strawberry of 2024 and was so happy!

But I also think I went to bed really early too. My sleep period has gone back an hour or so. What was 8 is now 7pm so I am waking at the crack of dawn.

The appointment isn't until 10am and I am not walking Lola this morning and I would be happier getting through the day of sleep deprivation in LS22. Even if I have to sleep alongside Lola...

***

Wednesday,

I went to the appointment and walked Lola down to the river where we had a little paddle, and a spinning whizzing mad moment, before coming to rest at the top of Raby Park in the swaying grass; it was a cold June day.

Thursday,

Lola, breakfast, allotment for four hours, three pints, good food, but a bit of gluttony into the mix - devouring all the block of Saint Agur with crackers - mouldy ryvita - while watching a documentary about the build up to D-Day on Channel 4.

Friday,

I wish I knew what I am doing. When I write in the moment everything is concise and meaningful. Whenever I try to compose something purposely it becomes unweldy and unenjoyable. Why ... ADHD. I go down rabbit holes which collapse and bury me...

Saturday,

Slept perfectly. Even managed a deep meditation prior to turning in. Nothing woke me either around the flat. Made cold brewed coffee prior to sleep which definitely has a superior taste to bitter coffee. It's smoother. A red sky morning as the sun rises in the far north east; it's a cloudy morning and the ground around the flat looks damp. Podcast Free Thinking.

Eaten slow cooked beans on toast. The beans were rich and the sauce thick. Fried three slices of Warburton bread in extra virgin olive oil. Wasted up the way first demonstrated to me at The Plum Village.

Yesterday I sorted through my mementos which I've collected through the years: reference points to previous experience and came across a card sent by Michael Jung which featured two stills of Jenny from his documentary with his blessing that I keep in spirit: thank you Mike!

***

Sunday,

Met Glenn in Headingley at just gone 11. I've not seen him in ages. And so we proceeded to drink into oblivion... And as he pushed me away I left the Stables to catch the bus and fell flat on my face ... Well on my knee, elbow and hands. A bit bloody and bruised and upset as I sat on the bus feeling like a fool ...

To live the good life. Virtues. Virtuous.

I have definitely been more hungover after a session with Glenn, but it's a regular thing when I do see him. We never stop once we start. Thankfully it's a rare occurrence.

***

Monday morning and it's pouring down. Yesterday I spent the majority of the day in and out of sleep, meditation or listening to an Audible audiobook. Lola came over for a couple of hours, while Emma went with Finley to book a holiday to Lake Garda Italy...

Mum left for her couple of days away around noon.

I've got my coffee, and slept well, but I still feel a little tired. Glenn and I really did over do it on Saturday afternoon. Two day hangover with a badly bruised and sore left knee(I can't actually flex it). It's OK. I'll manage Lola. It's raining so nothing outside matters all that much? A blue Monday.

Mental modules... I have literally zero control of my emotions. But they are not my true Self - I absolutely know this. Even caught by the network...

***

Tuesday,

The bad dream. Heavy pressure in some smokey factory - all steam and soot. Always surreal - a Victorian landscape of chains, boilers and smelting. And it always leaves me exhausted.

But I am by Lola's side with coffee brewing at 5am. But I love the morning and to have Lola alongside... In my bed all night and now parcelled up in her throw with a full belly... She has hiccups. Mostly she shared my pasta sauce yesterday. No salt. Lots of good veggies.

Bath time at 6am. Then we'll go somewhere this morning. A couple of good hours. It rained a little late in the afternoon/early evening - just after we'd returned from Lola's third, short, walk - where I think she pooh-poohed, but I didn't see it? This happens sometimes.

And I am still delicate from the fall on Saturday, but am coping. On Sunday I didn't really get vertical once I got to Wetherby, but yesterday did 7 miles on a tender knee: keeping level at all times. I'd be nice to do something with Lola today, but it's going to be wet underfoot and I've only sandals; because it's June 11th!

***

Wednesday,

Awake at 5am. Took the first installment of the new potion the NHS has given me to stop my head exploding. A Tricyclic. In my haste, after I'd briefly been into town to Boots the chemist, to collect this new cycle of antidepressants, I took one, but it clearly states on the packet to only take at night ... So I took a second before bed. And slept without shifting at all. Tranquilized. And now they will only come out at night...

7am and just arrived at Easterly Road junction with Wetherby Road. It's my third day sober since Glenn and I went nuts on Saturday afternoon...

It's a Tetracyclic antidepressants... Mirtazaphine. Develop in the 1970s.