The alarm went off at 0830 and here I am, although I could easily have stayed in bed. I was in the middle of a weird dream about a dog and a soldier, and the sound of the alarm fitted in with the dream. Daisy is up but didn't want anything to eat, so I shall keep my eye on her today. I seem to have fallen into a pattern whereby I am awake for two hours in the night, and I must try to break the habit. The Wakeful Imp strikes again, but I shall have my revenge by sleeping through the night one of these days. Scratched my hands raw again, so it's cream time.
I have to phone HT and tell them about the night, also to say whether I want a visit or not. I don't think I need one today as I'm probably OK. I think they're coming on Sunday as a last visit before I get discharged and go back to my CPN. Just phoned the surgery to see if my drugs are ready - please would I phone back later. So I called HT and they're happy with me - I can phone if I need to, but otherwise it will be a Sunday visit. Which is fine.
I must have a shower today as I didn't have one yesterday - cleanliness is overrated in my book. So I'll slob about until I feel able to go and immerse myself in hot water.
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?