Twentyfuckingfith
25th.
Think we get our DLA on Tuesday. That's so needed. Not just for food but because its the 26th. Epstein in the news yesterday was something to hear and see other peoples fury and revulsion at him, his lawyers, the supposed representation for some victims and the DOJ.
We are not completely floored. Weepy and irritable but getting some stuff done, like ironing school clothes, changing bedding, eating food, wrote a letter about paying back the social fund, think we can write to Universal Credit to. Sitting at our table, that we ordered and built. It feels possible to letters there.
Saturday we did this, We didn't vrrrrr.
Paddling in February, even its a warm day for the time of year. Still. Been so grumpy with him, wishing he was maturer just so we would have some one to talk to, insanely jealous that he's a eleven and wants to take his toy swords with him when he's out. Playing. At eleven. And pubescent. Outside.
He's been making us cups of tea and calling us "the most wonderful person" when we do stuff for him though. Wish he had friends here that he could go out with. Give us a break, even if we do start to panic after about 10 mins. Sent him to recycling the other day and he got bullied, hassled and threatened by a bunch of kids he said were about his age but didn't recognise. There is Catholic schools here and we tried to explain the rivalry between schools but he just looked so innocent and confused we just stopped. Maybe it was that, maybe it was just random little shite bags calling him a twat, making threats and asking for booze in the empty bottles. Maybe.
He's so friendly, all the retired people especially adore him its good to know they at least will have kind words and keeping and eye out for him.
Picked up some sand and stones for the gold fish bowl. Inspired by something similar from drama therapy. Was surprised at how lighting the candle gave us an instant sense of calmness, we couldn't not mediate on it for a little while. Tealights just don't do the trick, its maybe just associations.
Found the lavender and the dyed flowers we ordered for fairy gardening and put them in a vase today. Needs some wheat or something to. Quite proud of it but when we sat and looked at it tonight we couldn't get past feeling and thinking about how happy and content we would feel if we just had weed, to feel our mind opening like a flower again.. To put some distance between us and near constant heartbreak.. To naturally think positively and feel it, really feel it instead of having to force it and respond with cynicism based on experience. To feel our own flesh and past and not just assorted pain, loss and terror.
Gonna hang the cast iron butterfly above the mantel when we retrieve the oil from the under steps outside cupboard to clean it up. It's getting quite meish in here. Want to move the bookcase back where it was originally though. Which is a bit of a job but we won't be doing it all by ourself and think it will likely feel even more meish when its done. Might check the charity shops of nicks and maybe some more nacks..
So much brutal and murderous misogynies. There can't ever be reconciliation, justice or genuine recognition but I love you sis and I am a sis that someone loves and they told us over and over, we will see each other again. "There's no maybe.."
Think we get our DLA on Tuesday. That's so needed. Not just for food but because its the 26th. Epstein in the news yesterday was something to hear and see other peoples fury and revulsion at him, his lawyers, the supposed representation for some victims and the DOJ.
We are not completely floored. Weepy and irritable but getting some stuff done, like ironing school clothes, changing bedding, eating food, wrote a letter about paying back the social fund, think we can write to Universal Credit to. Sitting at our table, that we ordered and built. It feels possible to letters there.
Saturday we did this, We didn't vrrrrr.
Paddling in February, even its a warm day for the time of year. Still. Been so grumpy with him, wishing he was maturer just so we would have some one to talk to, insanely jealous that he's a eleven and wants to take his toy swords with him when he's out. Playing. At eleven. And pubescent. Outside.
He's been making us cups of tea and calling us "the most wonderful person" when we do stuff for him though. Wish he had friends here that he could go out with. Give us a break, even if we do start to panic after about 10 mins. Sent him to recycling the other day and he got bullied, hassled and threatened by a bunch of kids he said were about his age but didn't recognise. There is Catholic schools here and we tried to explain the rivalry between schools but he just looked so innocent and confused we just stopped. Maybe it was that, maybe it was just random little shite bags calling him a twat, making threats and asking for booze in the empty bottles. Maybe.
He's so friendly, all the retired people especially adore him its good to know they at least will have kind words and keeping and eye out for him.
Picked up some sand and stones for the gold fish bowl. Inspired by something similar from drama therapy. Was surprised at how lighting the candle gave us an instant sense of calmness, we couldn't not mediate on it for a little while. Tealights just don't do the trick, its maybe just associations.
Found the lavender and the dyed flowers we ordered for fairy gardening and put them in a vase today. Needs some wheat or something to. Quite proud of it but when we sat and looked at it tonight we couldn't get past feeling and thinking about how happy and content we would feel if we just had weed, to feel our mind opening like a flower again.. To put some distance between us and near constant heartbreak.. To naturally think positively and feel it, really feel it instead of having to force it and respond with cynicism based on experience. To feel our own flesh and past and not just assorted pain, loss and terror.
Gonna hang the cast iron butterfly above the mantel when we retrieve the oil from the under steps outside cupboard to clean it up. It's getting quite meish in here. Want to move the bookcase back where it was originally though. Which is a bit of a job but we won't be doing it all by ourself and think it will likely feel even more meish when its done. Might check the charity shops of nicks and maybe some more nacks..
So much brutal and murderous misogynies. There can't ever be reconciliation, justice or genuine recognition but I love you sis and I am a sis that someone loves and they told us over and over, we will see each other again. "There's no maybe.."
