Monday, February 3, 2014

This is exciting what an adventure a Brain Injury can write.

After my dinner with some friends last night, I left my phone in my rucksack so I was out of range of hearing a text that arrived until late last night.
I had told my dad the great information at 6:45pm that the money was arriving soon :=
"It's all wrapped up in an envelope ready to wing it's way to Steve Jones as soon as my busy schedule lets me get to the Post Office xx"
My dad was over the moon at this information and I told him that I would let him know as soon as I receive it.

This blob/blog is getting lots of viewers these days, people are interested in the effects of the brain injury and how I try to get over the mood swings, well lots of my actions so here goes!

Last night I received a text at Sun 19:31 from my eldest sister.....You know who!

"If you hadn't jumped in with such venom and hatred to me,
which no one understands where it came from as we had nothing
but love and fun then I would have put your needs and requests
at the top of my list, but as you have been rude to me along with
voicing such vile lies then I'm sorry but I've been going through
my to-do-list as I see it with all the important tasks first xx"

If my dad gave my eldest sister on the 15th of September 2013, my £500 cash present and he gave her the travelling money to drive my present to Steve Jones NHS in Chesterfield, she never arrived.
How long have I waited! I'm good at waiting, this is my moaning wall here.
How can you say that the money is in the envelope ready to wing it's way to Steve Jones and later you decide that with my "Jumped in with venom and hatred!" I'm not on that "To Do List"

It will be interesting to write about this characteristics charm of someone who was there at my side and she now needs to feed on a drama or to bring the survivor down which could be fatal!
She thrives on upsetting my anxiety and depression; this could be interesting for my story.
I wonder what shall appear next.
I've been that Drama Queen with Aphasia that they used me for as they weep into their onion tissues as they stuggle with the weight that they carry in a wheelchair; Woe Is Me! they say. sob, sob!

I'll pop back later after my group session.

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