Sunday 22nd January

Boy, am I fed up!

For the last three days, ever since finishing the course of antibiotics, all I've done is sleep. I am in the midst of isolation from everyone, being on my own now since Friday night when Baby Daughter left to go with her boyfriend, and I can't explain the mixture of feelings that are overwhelming me.

So, let's start analysing, and see where we go.

First off, Baby Daughter lost her job on Friday and they told her this in a disciplinary meeting Friday afternoon. She got desperately upset in the meeting and there's nothing I can do, as a father, to comfort her. Fortunately, her boyfriend came around to give her a bit of support.

She's been through a lot since the new year, what with me going poorly on her Friday 13th, and scaring her witless as she had to come to hospital with me in the ambulance, then having to go back to the house on her own, and just being there on her her own whilst I was in hospital. Although  her boyfriend was with her occasionally, it's not quite the same.

Just like to say a word here about Aaron, Baby Daughter's boyfriend. He has been a tower of strength for her over the last fortnight or so, somehow managing to keep getting petrol money from somewhere despite being seriously short of cash. Aaron has been an absolute rock for both Baby Daughter and myself; and I am very proud of him for how he's looked after my baby daughter. And he came to see me in hospital, and this is my main point of concern. Both Baby Daughter and her boyfriend had to see me, previously strong and independent, now laid low, as weak as a baby, on oxygen. The strong man had fallen. Pride? Yes, of course, there's a bit of pride there from me: no man wants to be weak, does he?

But, like all men things, some things just can't be said, or emphasised enough in this silly, manly world. How sad. I just hope he reads this one day, he'll then realise what he, and what he's done,  means to me.

OK, that's the first thing. Secondly, it's me and my health that are giving me mental problems now; having sucummbed to the lung infection which laid me so low for so long,  I am now supposed to stop smoking. This is giving me two main issues, namely: Firstly, that I now have a crap body that has finally proved it's weakness to me, forcing me to seriously consider stop smoking, and secondly, the massive internal conflict within myself that I have to stop smoking, but don't want to, and, more to the point perhaps, I don't see why I should have to.

Don't get me wrong. I know I shouldn't smoke. I know the smoking has weakened my lungs, meaning that I am unable to fight off infections as well as a non smoking male my age can. BUT the smoking is NOT the issue here; it's the infection that I picked up from someone, somewhere. If I stop smoking NOW there will be no difference in lung function, nor resistance to infection. Totally no change. Except for my added misery of course, but maybe that's what society's demanding, as well as friends who are taking great pains to point out the error of my ways to me- even those who are obese, grossly overweight and unfit. But, these people have, for some reason, being given a right to "advise" me on my shortcomings. Am I really supposed to change, just to conform to their expectations and "helpfulness"?

It's almost as if I'm putting myself through this shit for nothing. Absolutely nothing. And I hate having to do this. Totally pointless.

Thirdly: I have no money; the cupboards are fast running out of food, the car's petrol is getting low and there's no money for cigarettes - again, another source of personal control being taken away from me. Baby Daughter is supposed to be getting the food in the house this coming Friday, I hope she is back with me to do so. But I cannot expect her to live her life for me, or around me, we will have to see what happens.

And fourth: my son's expected in court tomorrow morning to face charges of drink driving; the kids were supposed to staying overnight here with me as the court hearing is in Kings Lynn tomorrow.  I have not heard anything from the three step kids since before Christmas, this big stay over has been arranged between them and Baby Daughter, without me being involved. It is now 8.30pm as I write this, and I've heard nothing as to what's supposed to be happening. We'll just have to wait and see I guess. But despite everything, I do want to see my son again; it's been far too long and yes, I do miss him. Terribly.

All told, I'm alone, facing everything on my own, by myself. And I hate the way I'm feeling now. Although I have had a couple of text messages from my long term girlfriend, which were very welcome, it's not the same as facing these battles with someone special next to me, in the same room.

Don't get me wrong. I am angry at my lot, and the way things are turning out, and going wrong, seemingly one after the other after the other. But I'm not feeling sorry for myself. Far from it.

I'm just really angry with myself, my life and everything I stand for. And I hate it.