Not many words

I don’t seem to have many words to describe me recently, but people have been asking for an update, so here it is in the easiest form.

I moved back to Birmingham a week ago – shared house, it’s okay, it’s main redeeming factor is I have a separate office, which I’m putting to good use getting FF stuff done.

Kitty is in a foster place in Nottingham. It’s a fairly awesome service that’s generally offered to women escaping abusive relationships, but thankfully the lady in charge said she’d help me too.

Matty fell off a rock kayaking and has broken his hand in multiple places, has had emergency surgery to try to save use of his hand. And is having another operation next week to do more stuff to the plates in his hand. I found out about it on Facebook, and one of the things I’ve wanted to do since I found out is just go and make sure he’s okay. But it’s been made clear that’s not my place anymore. That’s very hard to deal with, despite me coming to terms with not being with him anymore.

I’m still trying to find a job in Bham so I can stop leaching off my parents, which is incredibly humiliating.

Moving means my physio is being messed around, and I know I’ve undone some of the works that’s been done by moving boxes etc.

I would like to stay in bed all day and hide from the world, but am managing not to. I recognise this as an achievement without really being able to feel anything.

That was more words than I thought I had.



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