It's 1930 and my friend has just gone home. I didn't get dressed - no surprises there. It's quite amazing to be able to hold a conversation naturally - for the last few weeks, I've felt stilted and uneasy as though I had nothing worth saying. Laughter is a good tonic as well - I've actually laughed today, which initially felt odd, as though I had to relearn something I'd forgotten. In fact, a lot of what I'm now doing feels new and uncertain, as I'm still a bit wobbly. I must drive tomorrow to get back in the habit - I'll go to the garage on the top road as I need some cash.
I'm going to watch crap TV now, so I'll be back later to wish you all goodnight.
I spent 16 years in the RAF defending the Free World , then got bunged out unceremoniously for being bipolar. I and was subsequently diagnosed with PTSD. Funny old world, isn't it?