. . . but I’ve got some Twitter anxiety going on. Happens sometimes. I’m sure it’ll pass. Blogging seems less in people’s faces, because no one has to click on the link.

Bad night last night, long on dreams and short on sleep. I have a couple of recurring dreams. One is that I can’t open my eyes. The other is that I’m trying to cry out but I can’t make a sound. Except I did last night, and kept waking myself up, and feeling disorientated and than falling back into the (horrible) dream. Just hope I didn’t wake the neighbours up as well.

I didn’t go and see Dr B this morning. I didn’t exactly plan not to, but when I did my morning meditation (I’m not sure about that shit tbh) all I could hear was “I DON’T WANT TO GO. I DON’T WANT TO GO. I DON’T WANT TO GO.” I’ve never been aware of that kind of resistance before so I thought I’d better listen. Of course I tied myself up in knots for a while about how really I should push myself through it, but it soon became clear it plain wasn’t happening. And I think that that’s an end of that little adventure (about time too) as it seems there’s no intention of going again. I’ll write him a letter later, cancelling all future appointments and enclosing the money I owe him.

Someone has been to the shop. Which is only worth mentioning because I’m kind of amazed and delighted that it happened – I certainly wasn’t in any fit state to go earlier, being a ball of anxiety and paranoia, curled on the sofa, too busy desperately trying to be okay to contemplate doing anything else. But I’m slowly (painfully slowly) learning to trust that these things will get done if I can only get out of the way and not obsess about how much I can’t do them.

I’ve been deliberately not doing anything much these last couple of days except watching the Olympics, but I’ll confess, I’m getting a little bored of sitting on the sofa now. Not that I normally do much else – oh I guess there’s the trying to be ok thing. And I’ve come to the conclusion that sport is a little insane, and so much about the money. I keep thinking about what’s concurrently going in Syria and all the other places where people are just in hell and trying to survive. I’ve become so insular lately, so preoccupied with what’s going on in my own little world, and I don’t much like myself for it.

But I shall still watch the eventing today, and I shall quite probably get emotional because I always do get a bit teary when horses go cross country (I don’t give a shit about the riders), because it’s dangerous and they’re so brave and willing and I have such mixed and difficult feelings about using animals for sport or pleasure, because obviously I did it for years, and yes I “loved” my horses but did I always do what was actually best for them or did my own wants and needs take precedence?

And actually, now I’ve written it, most of this is too long to have tweeted anyway, so there you go, maybe it should have always been a blog.

(And whoever went to the shop got me some beer, so I owe them a double thank you. I’m not going to get drunk drunk, but I’ve had one now to ease the anxiety (and it’s worked like magic, magic I tell you) and I shall have the other three later to help me sleep because I have no lorazepam until my CPN comes tomorrow (OH NO IT’S A NATIONAL EMERGENCY!). Which may go some way towards explaining the poor sleep and bad dreams last night because it’s the first time I’ve gone to bed without any chemical assistance at all for quite some time now. Which I probably ought to be worried about.)