(Or: At Home – Day Fifty-One)
I feel like I’m threading my life together with the finest of threads, and nobody except my partner is even vaguely listening.
My care co-ordinator is a liar, as discussed. I’m also musing on how, in two weeks, I’ve gone from ‘definitely fitting criteria’ to ‘unlikely you’ll even be assessed’. I don’t understand that gap.
My parents are linear-thinking people who cannot understand the MASSIVE area between ‘well’ and ‘unwell’ and ‘desperately coping however I can’.
I’m fed up.