Head Fudge

This morning I went to Art Therapy. Doesnt that sound nice? The answer is no. Its important to say that Art therapy isnt a lovely hour spent doing some watercolour, its a total head fuck and its not really that fun. I have told Lovely Lesley-Anne my mean horrible Art Therapist this, and she agrees and thinks it should be written on the leaflet. It is gradually helping to unfuck my head but it is still a head fuck and shouldnt be taken lightly. So if you are starting Art Therapy and think you're in for a few sessions dabbling with felt tips and scribbling in pastels over a cup of tea, im sorry to say that you should prepare yourself for some hardcore shizzle.

Psychotherapy is pretty exhausting. Im proper tired..

I hung out at TFF for a bit. Whilst Im being honest I should also say that TFF is not actually a funny farm, it is a 'rural activity centre' where people get referred to help make themselves better and give them a purpose in life.

feeding some goats and making a fruit bowl out of clay might seem like useless activities to some people. But it has been through TFF that I have gained confidence and managed to start things and finish them and make some friends. When I first started going, it was months before i didnt lose sleep with the anxiety of having to face people, and to be able to make conversation and not blush or want to apologise whenever someone looked at me. I go a few times a week and it is helping me to grow.

This afternoon I went to see the M.E lady who is an Occupational Therapist and is helping me to stop my 'boom/bust' lifestyle and to get more on an even keel. Im supposed to start by accepting that I have M.E, which I dont really want to do as i know im tired but I dont want to give in too much because I need to get on with life and dont want to waste too much time resting.

But I think I need a rest now as it has been a busy day. Ive been head fucked and funny farmed and occupationally therapied, and finally managed to write on my blog despite wasting several hours over the weekend writing THREE blog posts THREE times and managing to accidentaly delete before publishing THREE times. Once because computer died, once because Ernie trod on the keyboard, and once because I managed to cut and then paste to some unknown location. Computers are so gay.

Obviously because I ramble a lot, I cant remember what I was writing about but I do have the feeling that it was very important and the world will be a lesser place without these blog posts. But I suppose we'll all just have to cope with this loss and move on.

I would also like to share that Bert made his Great Escape this weekend from being stuck in my third floor flat as an indoor kitty. Im not sure if he jumped or fell but the window was open andI looked out to see a puffy black ball shouting meow at me from the ground below.

I thought he might like to sniff the grass and make a bid for freedom, but he just kept meowing up at me and Ernie watching out the window until I went down and scooped him up. He hadnt hurt himself but he clung on to me for dear life as I carried him back inside and up the stairs....It seems Bernie are much happier cuddled up with thier mummy than exploring the big wide world, awww.