Recently child abuse has made much on the headlines. The Jimmy Saville case, abuse in institutions and so forth. These things are far from new. To be honest, I have been there. Often there are flashbacks. News headlines, something in the papers, odd things that crop up. There are dark memories, they never go away. Dates, times, they become blurred, over the years things become a bit foggy. The pain, like a dull ache, never goes away. There is anger too, bitterness, so many feelings. Over the years, I have learned to mask those feelings, more or less?
Mentioning  Saville maybe I can illustrate the sort of person he was. The incident happened some years back. Where is of little importance. He was smoking one of his cigars, obviously loving being centre stage, egoistic? certainly. As he smoked there where a few guys close by, they where forever after smokes, checking ash trays, picking up fag ends to make roll ups. It was their way of life. Saville saw them hovering nearby. Looking at them directly, he took his half smoked cigar, dropped it on the floor and deliberately ground it under his heel.
At this moment in time I am not able to go in to detail. My history is still too raw. It all started early in life with what maybe described as a dysfunctional family. Certainly I grew up differently. It has left many holes in my life. Personal relationships are no go. Parties, never been to one, ditto dances, weddings and so forth.

Coping

Since being diagnosed with Parkinson's it has been somewhat of a roller coaster ride. Physically there has been a range of health problems, bladder and bowel issues. Directly or indirectly related is a matter of debate?
Medication, after a some juggling and a few mishaps, has eased the actual tremor that often is an outward indication of the disease. As such, currently my physical condition is holding up quite well. My greater concern are the mental issues. For many years I have suffered from depression. For me it is normally a seasonal thing, my worst months,  December through to February. Due to circumstances much earlier in life my people skills, social interaction and so forth are quite limited to the extreme. The ability to form good, solid relationships is non existent. My one serious attempt at actually forming a long term relationship ended in appalling circumstances. We both got badly hurt. That was way back in the seventies. There have attempts since but usually ending painfully.
Yes, a lot  of folk prefer living alone and being single. However, living alone and with minimal social contact is difficult. Possibly I live to another vocabulary, love, affection, sharing the minutiae of daily living are alien to me. One tends to long for the physical aspects of partnerships. Someone to hug, to hold hands with, to share birthdays and special occasions with. That though is denied.
How does the Parkinson's fit in to this? Well, I find I am withdrawing further from people. It can be weeks before I  see even my next door neighbour. Crowded places have always been difficult to handle. That has now intensified, people worry me and there is a tendency to avoid. Mood swings are more erratic than ever. Recently I have experienced a few disconcerting moments of memory loss. Nothing major,but odd. For example using my credit card, a few times my mind has gone blank and I had no idea what the number was. In turn that has meant having my card locked. It has been the same for passwords on the computer.
One of the more worrying aspects of Parkinson's is that many sufferers in the longer term end up with dementia. That is scary and yes, it worries me. Currently I am coping with things. There is the thought that when I stop coping may be the time to quietly end things. To go out with a modicum of dignity. There is no family or any such complications and to be honest it is the way I prefer to go rather than end up a drooling, sad old old lady with little control over her daily life. In possibly what some may consider a cold blooded way of thinking, however, it is a logical consideration. Better than end up vegetating in some form of state institution.

Scribblings

A few years back I dabbled in short story writing. This began after I was asked to write something specific for a person I knew at that time. Basically I was given a kernel of an idea, an experience someone had, an idea and so forth. Sorting through my files, a few of these short stories came to light. One in particular was different for me to attempt. It revolves around a witch by the name of Avril.
To be honest, I am reluctant to delete it. Possibly I may attempt to contact folk within the Pagan and see how they respond? Suggestions welcome!

Adult Dawn: Tempted

Adult Dawn: Tempted

Tempted

Several years back, a time when I was going through a phase of turbulent upheaval, I began to write. Recently, like an itch that refuses to go away, I am tempted to dig out some of those early scribblings and revamp them. There is a short story, a longer piece of work and a third that I began with some encouragement from someone who was Pagan/Wicca. This was new territory for me, a blend of the mystic and actual factual history. It was a fascinating subject to be writing.  Mind, I am unsure if I have the notes and and early scripts of the third piece. That is the one I would like to begin again and I am quite tempted. There is a chance I can download the rough script from my old laptop. maybe, just maybe???

Worried

For quite a long period of time I have been suffering from increasingly painful feet. My GP referred me to a foot specialist. In turn he promptly passed me on to a podiatric surgeon. The interview was brief. Basically I required surgery, however, due to the fact that I live alone and was unable to arrange after care, I was refused surgery. There was an offer of cortisone injections. A stop gap really. My  GP and a senior consultant within the gender clinic where both unhappy with this outcome. Both agreed my hill walking was beneficial to me. Exactly what occurred I am unsure of. One thing I do know was that words where exchanged. The upshot of all this has seen me with another appointment with a surgeon for a second opinion. He was excellent, explaining exactly what was wrong with my feet and what corrective surgery entailed. Basically, I have arthritis in both feet. On one foot the bones around the big toe are totally fused. The other foot is heading the same way.Corrective surgery means some of the bone removed, plates and screws fitted and so forth. The surgeon is prepared to operate, on the proviso that someone collects me from the hospital. Fine, yes that is a problem but I shall try and sort something out.
There is one fly in the ointment, recently I have developed a tremor. There is a chance, according to the surgeon, it is the early stages of Parkinson's disease.Now I have to have to that checked out before surgery. That does worry me.
Addendum to the above.
 While away last week I lost a filling in my tooth and the tooth itself has broken down to the gum. Om my return I promptly registered with a dental surgery. Forms duly filled in, the receptionist asked if it was an emergency? Well, yes, I am in pain and need it sorted. The receptionist shuffled some papers and then told me I could have an appointment in a week's time and it  would cost me two hundred and forty pounds. Somewhat taken aback, I pointed out to her, that, as I had stated on the registration form, I am unemployed, registered disabled and receiving sickness benefit as well as a disability living allowance. Apparently none of that qualifies me for free dental treatment, odd?? Now I have had to complete a whole series of forms, send it of and wait for somewhere in the region of three weeks before I may receive treatment. Note, may receive, no guarantee on that! In the meantime I am living on a diet of paracetamol and codeine tablets. Probably overdosing on them, the boxes say not to be taken longer than three days???
What has happened to our national health service? It would seem that people come second to money, paperwork and quotas. It grieves me in some ways to see the way this country is heading. 'No money, living on a low income, sorry, you are only a second class person!' There is a two class system in this country, those who have and those who have not. Slowly but surely there grows a deep social divide and it beggars the question as to how far it may go?
The saga of my feet also continues. Yet again I am informed, by my GP this time, that surgery may not go ahead. Once more this is due to the fact I live on my own. For crying out loud, I could not fit another person in to my flat, even if I wanted to. Nine foot by eleven, three metres by four in new money. At least I am lined up for neurological tests for Parkinsons. From what I have been told that should happen somewhere in the region of three months.

Pondering

It has been a long while since I last posted on here; as of late things have taken a downward turn. The last time I managed to get away was more than six months ago. That has taken its toll, mentally as well as physically. Over the last couple of years I have had a persistent bladder problem, the prognosis is an over active or dysfunctional bladder. The last year has been bad, camping in the Cairngorms last winter I had to bail out after a really bad night with this problem; by morning I was suffering from hypothermia and frostbite. After yet another hospital appointment and another minor operation I had hoped the problem was resolved. This was not the case; things have worsened to the point where I now spend most of my time in the flat. Last week, I went to view a flat out of London, a nice flat, in sheltered housing. Unfortunately the people living there where so insular and inward looking it was unbelievable; I walked away, saddened by the attitude shown.
Fine, this may seem trivial compared to what some people have to put up with.However, I am reaching an all time low. Looking at things as they stand, I am single, am not in form of relationship nor am likely to to begin one. \Life becomes lonesome asI get older and considering  all in all, what am I contributing to society? The short answer is, nothing, I do not socialise and considering things I really question what difference it would make if I decided to quietly bow out while still ahead? Does that sound cold blooded? Consider for a moment the wider picture, society, (a society I may add, where in many respects I am an outsider, a misfit,) is now supporting me, I am no longer contributing. In ancient civilizations old folk work often relieve their society of the burden of keeping them by walking away and quietly dying; doing so with grace and dignity. Maybe that sort of time has come.  It weighs heavy on my mind and I ponder it over on a regular basis. Certainly it would be weeks, even months before anyone would realise I was not around and it would be so easy to just disappear..