- 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...
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12 Feb 2008
Post Number 14: Discussions on moving to Oxshott
That last post made me feel a bit dirty as it was fairly shameless advertising. I hope that I haven’t sullied this blog for anyone, so let me continue – back to what a travesty my life has become. I have just had the most dreadful visit from my mother and am now thoroughly depressed and convinced as to the hopelessness of my future. Now don’t get me wrong, my mother is a legend and has been a total support throughout all this. Her love for me has been virtually unconditional and It is largely down to her that this solution to move to Oxshott has presented itself. This in itself is virtually a miracle but she has done everything in her power to make me feel that things aren’t going to work out for me. Every-time I mention any item of furniture that I want to put in my new house. She always says ‘how’re you ever going to afford that? You’re being totally unrealistic’, in the same breath she also mentions hysterically how she’ll never be able to afford to furnish her own house because it’s hopelessly underinsured, her victim complex doesn’t end there – tragically a couple of ladies close to her in age have just been diagnosed with cancer.This is utterly tragic for those involved but given the recent bad luck the Pardey family have had has convinced her,utterly convinced her that she’s next. Combine this with the continuous scare stories that ‘we’re all going to die in that awful rag that women of her age seem to read ‘the Daily Mail’ or ‘the Daily Hatemail’ as I prefer to call it. I am the last person who can deal with her complex and everytime she comes to see me I get all this laid on me. Before my stroke I might have been able to deal with this. Now my mental state is far too fragile. I may have been lucky to get this far but it’s small wonder that I’m in such a bad way mentally. Thankfully,I just had a hilarious visit from Simon, Shaun and Renae which has really helped. This is the difference people can make.