Friday, 6 June 2014

The latest instalment of “My Life Sucks”

I’m finding it very hard to even drag myself out of bed at the moment (and by ‘bed’ I mean the folded over duvet on my sofa).  Life seems to have very little meaning for me, having no money, no income, no job, no voluntary work and no one to talk to (and I mean really talk to).  I don’t want to inconvenience my friend because I no longer do the work we used to do together and we don’t really have any mutual interests as we tend to fall back into talking about the work I used to do with him which does nothing but depress me further.

I’ve been seen by the Crisis Resolution Home Treatment team every couple of days for the past two or three weeks (time really doesn’t mean a lot to me right now) but all they have done is upset me each time they’ve visited and the last three times I’ve ended up in tears.  I know they are trying their best but I’ve kind of given up now.  I’ve asked them to find a doctor who will help me die because I know I’m not going to be able to kill myself.

Dad’s cancerous polypus has still not been removed.  Apparently the operation is going to be a larger affair than the doctor previously believed it would be because they cannot distinguish between the ‘gunk’ (obviously a technical medical term) and the polypus in the area of the growth so they are unable to find the root of the polypus without an MRI scan and another CT scan.  So, Dad has had to wait longer for the operation than was first thought which is worrying Mum so I can’t really burden her with my problems.

The MRI scan is being done today at some point so that’s some relief for my parents although Dad is having to take a tranquiliser because he felt claustrophobic last time he had an MRI.  If it’s successful, the CT scan should be done in the next few days followed soon after by the operation.

Merlin, my beloved cat, has had two seizures in the last two weeks so the stint in hospital I wanted isn’t going to happen because I need to be here for him.  I couldn’t be in hospital while he’s having seizures because I’d be too worried about him.  I’m not sure how long he’s got left and I can’t miss more time with him than I can help.

My applications for the part-time jobs at Lakeside have all gone unanswered and they have disappeared from the website so I know I haven’t got any of them.  I haven’t given up trying to get a job though as I put my CV into the local Cash Generator shop in town for a part-time job there.  It’s not the kind of job I’d really want to do but beggars can’t be choosers.

Last Friday was my 43rd birthday and I was more miserable than ever.  A lack of hope and prospects can do that for a person.  The only plus was that Diana managed to buy me a present – the sixth season box set of Bones – but even watching that didn’t raise my mood by much.

On Tuesday, our divorce went before the court.  We haven’t received any paperwork yet and neither of us could attend but I’m sure they will have granted it so I’m now officially a divorced, penniless depressive with no hope, no future and no one to share my life with.  All that needs to happen now is for my ex-wife and I to find separate accommodation and I’m officially the stereotypical old fart with no one except the characters that populate my mind from stories I can’t get written down.

My life sucks...

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