Diary of a Dysfunctional Life

So last night went pretty much to plan once my madness was over - until 2.30am.

I went to bed soon after X-Factor, about 10pm, cos I'd had a bad night on Friday and was very tired, so I must have gone to sleep soon after, just read for a little while. Then at about 2.15 I was woken by people walking home. I was lying there thinking about the phone call again (my brain is nothing if not tedious)when I heard footsteps coming towards the house. In my head I actually thought, 'that's not Steve cos it sounds like girls' shoes', but then the feet came down my gravel drive, and I heard banging on the door. That could only be Steve.

I answered co he sounded fairly with it for him. I thought he might need money or something. Then he started telling me about how he'd been chatted up by some 19 year-old girl and he could have gone back to Cannock with her. I told him there were still taxis running. He said that wasn't the point, that all the time he'd been thinking of me, and how she wasn't me, and how he loved me.

So long story short, he stayed the rest of the night. No physical stuff, just to sleep. And partly because I couldn't get rid of him.

Then this afternoon he came back again. He agreed that we had not been working before, but he wouldn't accept any of the blame for that, just made out it was all my fault. We had a REALLY long talk (all afternoon), where in the end I said I hadn't been happy the way things were, that heroin changed him too much, that I'd rather stay split than carry on the way we were.

He said he wanted us to give it one more go. And I've said I will. When he'd left I sat and cried and cried and cried. I have no idea why. I could still cry now.

I feel like I've opened the door to more heartache.

Well, it's too late to make the reservation now, so I sha;ll relax and eat chips

It's actually been a pretty good week after Hallowe'en - which only got worse.

I went to bed pretty early, and so woke up about 1am. I was reading when there was a knock at the door, at about 1.30. There were still loads of people around, lots of noise, so I thought it was someone messing about. Then it happened again, and someone was throwing stones at my window.

I went downstairs and asked through the door who it was. It was Steve. I wasn't going to open the door, because he sounded completely shit-faced, but in the end I did, because I was worried.

I needn't have been worried, he was a complete nightmare to get rid of. Completely off his head on heroin, I could tell from the stupid voice he had on. But get rid of him I did, even though because I was feeling so low in general I might have been tempted to let him stay if he'd been slightly less out of it.

So this week I had a my traditional firework party. Steve had been phoning up saying he'd get me cheap fireworks, but I've learned not to trust him so I ignored him and sorted it out myself. We all had a fantastic time and I've still got a fridge full of food and booze, which is a result as far as I'm concerned!

Tonight Small child has gone to his Dad's just for an overnight, as they are having a firework party. Off he went about 4pm. Then about 5pm the house phone rang - and when I picked it up it was this song - Sheepskin Tearaway by Babyshambles:

She opened her heart to a tearaway, a sheepskin tearaway
He was covered in scars and full of heroin
Everyone said from the start, not one single thing could ever be okay
She didn't listen anyway
She just opened her heart, and threw her cares away
At night they held on so tight in the dark, he brushed her hair away
She heard him say: "All my life I've been fighting and making the best of a very bad lot indeed..."

All your fighting got you nowhere
If nowhere's here with you on my skin
And you could fight forever but if you killed them all you'd never win
So give me your surrender, there are other ways to kill the pain
that stuff'll never mend you
It's like trying to dry your eyes in the pouring rain.

She opened her heart to a tearaway, a sheepskin tearaway
All covered in scars and full of heroin
Tearaway, a sheepskin tearaway...

I know he always thought that song really related to our situation, but why phone me to play it? He didn't speak, but obviously it was him. I phoned him, but he didn't answer, so I didn't do anything else.

Then I remembered that AGES ago, just before we finished, he'd talked about booking a meal at a posh restaurant for this weekend - we were going to have this meal then go to the big local bonfire to watch the fireworks afterwards, because I wanted to do more romantic things, and this was one of the ones we talked about. So I'm wondering is he still thinking we're going? Can't be, surely?

So why am I sitting here in full make-up? Only wearing my dressing gown though, so I can slob out and drink wine and watch Harry Hill and X-Factor, which was my plan before the weird phone call.

Then there's always the worry that he's going to hurt himself - but there is no way I'm going round to his, so all I'm doing is writing this down to get the whole stupid thing out of my head so I can forget it and watch telly.

And I do feel better for writing it down - the whole thought seems totally ludicrous and I have no idea what I was thinking - he phoned and played the track because he is a junky and they do inexplicable things!

It's Halloween, and I'm alone with nowhere to go. Small Child is with his dad after I had him for a holiday for a week. I miss him so much. No trick or treating for me this year. I went out to the shops to buy myselfa new purse and some stuff from Lush to cheer myself up. All the pubs are decorated, and coming home I could see people dressed up to go out, all with someone. That isn't me any more.

And all my friends are with their other halves tonight, I can't impose on them. Should have thought and organised something earlier I suppose. So I'm all alone, and lonely for the first time. I love Halloween, it's one of my favourite nights out. It's not Steve I miss so much - he probably wouldn't have wanted to go out anyway - it's being able to have loads of friends to go out with. Everyone is busy except me.

At least at Christmas I'll have Small Child - the ex doesn't want him for some reason. Feeling really down - I think it's worse because I had such a nice holiday. Am crying as I write this, because I feel so alone.

Just popped the TV on while I was writing. Have you SEEN that low fat cheese ad???!!!!!! The one with the mouse and all the mousetraps!!! My heart is still in my mouth, SOOOOO heart-stopping!

YAY FOR THE MOUSE!!!!!

Put on the TV and there was news of a Bob Dylan Christmas album.

'Steven would have loved that,' I thought. Then I pulled up short - it was the first time that had happened. Always before when there's been Bob Dylan news I've thought, 'must tell Steven that.'

Even the least conscious parts of me must now know my brother is dead. There's something a bit sad about that.

I've been keeping busy the last few weekends, but this weekend I didn't.

I'd forgotten what it is like to be alone for a whole weekend. I'd forgotten the things I like about it. To wake up on Saturday morning with the house perfectly tidy. To be able to read two Saturday papers, then watch two DVDs then go to bed and read a book.

To wake up on Sunday and the house is STILL perfectly clean and tidy. To potter around in the garden, then watch two more DVDs, then catch up on Facebook and blogs. Then Small Child comes home.

He doesn't like sport, 'but I don't mind fielding in rounders or cricket. You just stand around and think things.'

This is right up there with his query last week about how he could get a girlfriend.

'I thought you didn't like girls?'

'I don't, but you need a girl to have a baby, so I've got to really. I thought I might get a French girlfriend. I hear they cook a really good seafood platter.'

I was quite surprised that those who responded to my last post were urging me to go for it with B! I'd expected a damn good telling off for even thinking about it. I've not done anything - not because of his age, but because of him having a girlfriend (or 'girlfiend' as I typed in the last post - too bloody right!) and me working with him. And because it wouldn't be fair - not only am I older, but I am SOOOOO much wiser. Like a teacher dating a pupil or something.

I think that's how he sees me anyway - he'd probably be horrified I even considered his interest to be anything else. All the problem discussions and stuff - I'm like a Mum. His Mum is only a couple of years older than me - though he had the grace to say I look a lot younger!

The girls from work went for a night out on Thursday. Very enlightening. They all think that the blokes we work with (B and S - J is married to my boss so we didn't discuss him!) are completely downtrodden by their girlfriends and are under the thumb and too domesticated for their age (they're 22 and 23). I've never met either of these girls, but the others have (I only do one clinic day, the rest I'm in residential, hydro, day centre or college). They were saying I'll see them at the works Xmas Party, because partners are going. So that will be interesting.

So, just the usual tedium this end. Did I tell you I'm engaged? No? Now THERE's a story!

Remember B - newish qualified, into all the evidence-based practice, good-looking and skinny (good) but driven, intense and over-enthusiastic (bad), and obviously WAAAAY too young for me?

He's a really good colleague, we get on well. He's recently been telling me all these problems he's having with his girlfiend and asking advice and stuff. Then yesterday I did a training session for all of us, and at the end he was following me around and asking questions, mainly to do with it's relationship to his girlfriend's problems. He gave me his email and asked me to send him the powerpoint presentation, which I did.

I am SOOOOOOO tempted to Facebook stalk him. It is an entirely inappropriate urge.

Last night when I got back from work, Pope Benedict XVI (he's a fish) was stuck behind the filter. He often does this, so I went to free him and EURGGGH! He was dead. And not just dead, his tail and fins had been eaten off!

I looked suspiciously at Mirror Carp, who looked belligerently back at me and started leaping out of the tank because he wanted food. Baby Baby Cyril's fancy tail looked a little bit tatty at the end.

I fished (hehe) out PBXVI and put him in the dustbin, pondering that he was an old fish and had been swimming sideways for about a year now. He'd probably died and Mirror Carp had eaten him, accidentally nibbling Baby Baby Cyril in a feeding frenzy. Mirror Carp used to be tiny until Ripples (the Tank Daddy, a massive thin fish who swam fast) died three or four months ago. Now he has tripled in size at least.

This morning I came down to find Baby Baby Cyril behind the filter. In trepidation I freed her. Half her fancy tail was gone.

So I got Mirror Carp out into a bucket (no tank water for him, let him suffer in tap water), and after Small Child had gone to school I took him back to the Fish Supermarket.

'I bought this fish from you three years ago and he's turned cannibal. D'you want him back?'

They did. He is now a small fish in a big pond.

Baby Baby Cyril is a tiny fish in a huge tank. I'll buy some friends when she has recovered.

It was a bit early for a glass of wine, so I bought a pair of high-heel Victorian lace-ups from New Look to calm my nerves.