Still no joy, although I didn't stay very long - too restless. I'm eating a lolly from Estie's Red Cross parcel, which will no doubt give me a sugar rush, and I can't remember if that's good for sleep or bad. Does sugar give you energy or make you sleepy? Too late now, anyway. No luck with the lorazepam yet. Bummer.
I found some old photo albums yesterday and looked through them. There's one of Dinah aged about 2 months, and I was remembering the day we collected her from the adoption home. She was tiny, with bright blue eyes and an astonishing quiff of hair. The adoption home was called St Faith's Shelter and was in Coventry - I was adopted from there as well.
Some 20 years later, I happened to be driving through Coventry and decided to go and look at St Faith's. It was an old building with a modern extension at the front. I rang the doorbell and a girl showed me into the study to wait for the boss man. The study was familiar and hadn't changed much since we were there to get Dinah. The boos came in with a weary look on his face, assuming that I was either a. pregnant or b. looking to trace my Mother. I put his mind at rest, and told him that I was interested in just looking at the place. He gave me a tour and then went to show me the nursery. I stopped him and said that I knew what it looked like from memory. He said that was impossible because adoptive parents were never taken in there. So I described the room to him. He was shocked and when we opened the door, it was just as I had said. Now the only way I could have known what was behind that door was if I remembered it from when I was a baby of 4 months. Impossible? Who knows. But I did get every detail right.
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?