I can almost retract that statement. Life sucks if you're in the Ukraine, and dodging bombs sent by some homicidal maniac. Then life really sucks. When you're sitting in London and you're pretty safe-life just may be a bit difficult. Difficult, but not impossible.
I'm still recovering from the nasty fall I had nearly six weeks ago. My fault entirely; I never should have gone out in what felt like gale force winds. So all the pain-and boy, was it severe-was self inflicted. Did I learn a lesson? Oh, yes, I did-and was it ever painful.
Life has been very tricky. It hasn't only just started being tricky, it's been difficult since the lockdown. We've all been in deep doodoo for two years, and it's not over yet. I'm still wearing a mask-I'm told that I should, that it's in my best interests to do so. Actually, it's in everybody's best interests to do so, since we all know that Covid isn't finished with us yet. We also know that the mask protects the wearer almost as much as it protects everyone else.
I just pretend that I'm incognito. And you all know how I feel about the braindeads-who have no manners, and are everywhere-and at least if I'm swearing at them behind the mask, they can't see or hear me-unless I accompany the swearing with a smack of my crutch. That is something they understand.
These two weeks have been tough; I've been a bit depressed, and when I get depressed, I become immobilized for a couple of days. One friend back home has been diagnosed with multiple myeloma, and she said that she has the worst one (apparently there are eight different types). This is someone who seemed to have everything: nice house, husband who makes a lot of money, two teenagers (one has ADHD, so that's been difficult for her)-seemingly no huge worries, And now: myeloma. I was shocked, and there isn't anything I can say. I start thinking about everything I've been through-and I'm still here, and I'm really in pretty good shape (so the consultants say) for my age. I'd be happier if they'd lay off the age!
Everything around me seems to be shifting. I've been ghosted-or is it correct to say "ignored" by a couple of people I've known for thirty years. I messaged my oldest friend in this country on WhatsApp, and she never replied. I did this twice-just to be sure-and nope, I'm history, apparently. And I understand from other friends that this is a trend that took off since lockdown. People are deciding where they want to live, what they want to do with their lives, and which people they choose to have in their lives. Huh-go figure.
I've actually been thinking along the same lines. Who stays? Who goes? Do I really want a moaner and whinger in my life-someone who only uses me as a dumping ground for their gripes? Excuse me! I'm enough of a moaner-but I usually either do it in an empty hours (what those walls could say if they could talk!) or here. And I have a sneaking suspicion that a lot of people who are reading this can relate.
So I'm going to try to walk off my depression-and try to remember all the things for which I should really be grateful. I'm also going to have a very large coffee..
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