- Post number 7: Moving to the Royal Hospital for Ne...
- Post number 8: Being Patronised by the staff
- Post Number 9: Self-Loathing
- Post Number 10: Gamma-Knife Surgery (!)
- Post Number 11: Dom Angears amazing Poem
- Post Number 12:Other Inmates
- Post Number 14: Discussions on moving to Oxshott
- Post Number 13: Trying to Find Housemates
- Post Number 15: Derek and the finger snappin' top ...
- Post Number 16: Not understanding how I've helped...
- Post number 17: Guilt at feeling low
- Post number 18: the RHN threaten legal action
- Post Number 19: Agency Monkeys
- Post number 20: The soc services discuss their pot...
- ▼ February 2008 (14)
- ► 2009 (83)
- ► 2010 (89)
- ► 2011 (61)
- ► 2012 (75)
- ► 2013 (29)
20 Feb 2008
Post number 17: Guilt at feeling low
I am a little ashamed of how fed up I am ATM. One of the things that has really struck me is that I feel I am letting people down if I say I am tired or depressed or my personal favourite, being told off by my mother for example, if I turn down a physio session when I’m not feeling up to it…I’ve already nicknamed my physio, a very nice kiwi called Megan the ‘smiling assassin’ and her Hispanic assistant Juan ‘the Spanish Inquisitor because I sometimes feel that physio sessions feel like some form of torture. It’s small wonder I don’t always feel up to them! But still I get told off for not taking advantage of the very great opportunity that I have been given being at the TLU try saying that from where I’m sitting. But what does eat me is that the more tired and depressed I am the less fun I am to visit and talk too and this is when I need people the most. I think I had a slight change of heart yesterday afternoon when I realised how much trouble a few of my friends have gone to, to organise a special one-off event to raise money for the Dom Pardey Trust and to take the trouble to make sure they chose a venue that most people will love and is accessible to my wheelchair so I can actually come. This is just the latest example of a string of incidents that make me feel an enormous debt of gratitude to those who have done what they can to improve my poor excuse for a life during the last couple of years. Sure, there may be the odd occasion when I sound like I am in the depths of despair, but I usually need something to jog my memory or to’have a stern word with myself’ and I’m soon right…There’s also a special apology reserved for my seemingly tireless Mother – She may be from the generation that don’t believe in tiredness and depression and that a simple “pull yourself together” will suffice but she’s not all bad, if only I could get rid of her ‘daily Mail’ habit…