April 24, 2016

Yuck. Sundays.

So wish we could do more. We are just hurting ourself though oh we will just bend down or scrunch ourself up to pull up these weeds oh we will just pick up this big pot of earth and move it over there oh more watering ..

Ow. Ow. Ow.

We kept an old promise to the lad that if we sat in pee when we went to pee he would instantly lose the living room. Currently on the coach with comfies with Malcom in the Middle on while we humpfs through the glass on the landing.

After a while he gave up and went outside and did some weeding, came in saying he was proud so we let take his DS. We are keeping the couch and the big TV for know. There is enough cash to order pizza, too weepy sore to clean & cook. Glad there has been plenty good decent weed this week. Made the gardening more possible and fun. 

Thinking about the assessment form. Figure we have better shot if we write as much as we can, provide a sheet or two of extra information, remembering the kind of questions that were asked two years ago so maybe we won't ask us to answer them again in person.. Its just not possible to go through again and there really is no babysitter. We arnt dissociated enough to forget the pain, anxiety, exhaustion and dangers of going out there. Add an interrogation and the journey home again.. Like a lot of people we are scared.


Its the kind of thing we would hear people talk about but then stop when we were out the room, how we didn't know and other shit we would have to stop ourself from hearing because we would hate them so much. Then they would go back talking to us about Margo and Bill being our mum and dad.

We knew it was set up and encouraged to fuck with us, to kick away the denial that made life possible and it worked.

Yuck. Sundays.