Struggling mentally again at the moment. The Brat came home with two Guinea Pigs(!!!!) having split with his girlfriend again. Possibly this time its for good and now its me looking after the guinea pigs and having the sudden, horrific realisation that he will never go for good, that I'm always going to have him to look after.

And looking after is what it is, its taken him a good month to move the piles of clothes that are on the kitchen floor, the piles of DVD's and CD's and the house is slowly getting messy again. I had hoped - dreamed that this was it, that perhaps I could move J in, in the winter. But three weeks ago, I had a stayaway competition. I left at 5.30 on Saturday morning, got home 6.30 Sunday evening and he'd not flushed the toilet in that entire spell and it was a hot weekend! 

So how can I ask anyone to come live with me in that kinda condition? I know Welshy did but Mother was at home for some of the time and anyway he was sponging off of us - which I realise now - so who gives a shit when we were paying for his food and rent and cleaning?

Speaking quickly of Welshy - guess who's now married! Fuck you, hobbity cunt. 

I have been feeling neglected by my flyball friends in a kinda stroppy teenager way, realising that they were slowly moving away from me, going around Paws without me, finding out after everyone else that one was buying a flat, another getting a new dream job, another dating someone and the two that I'm closest too, the ones that I've vented to about the Boy and Mother both pretty much told me they were bored of hearing about it and to speak to a therapist and not them and then I remember the 7 weeks 4 days of lockdown when no one reached out to me, when I reached out to others and they made excuses as to why they couldn't bubble with me or talk and then THAT cycles further back to the time I tried to tell Mother about being bullied when I was 16/17 and how she just shrugged and said my life was worthless anyway, so very much clammed up there and I'm cautious about how much I say to J in case I get the same reactions.

So its been safe to say I'm struggling and then Mother came home this week, leaving today and I'd built it up in my head to tell her about J and it was making me sick with anxiety, remembering how when I bought Welshy home the first time, she proceeded to remove her jeans to prove she had better legs than me.

And then he was sick both days we arranged to meet and I'm feeling so bitter and resentful thinking about how I struggled on my bad leg to meet his family earlier this year and there was snide comments about if he really existed and I know she was thinking bad about him, even though it was me pushing for the meet and I don't think she's even asked what his name is or anything apart from how it would affect The Brat. Actually thats a lie, she did ask what his job was but that's about it and TBF I'm so wary of her that even if she did ask, I'd be so brief with details that she probably thinks better not to ask and this is how she gets me second guessing myself and doubting everything.

And then I've been making a huge effort to sort the back garden out, buying plants and weeding and digging plants up and spending more money than I can really afford only for her to tell me I'm wasting my time. And even though at the start of this month I'd checked the tyres, somehow they were flat and rubbed to the wire and I genuinely don't know how that happened as two week previous they were fine, but apparently I hadn't looked after the car and I drive it too much and she bought two new tyres so she was pissed with me about that.

And on Friday I took her to an agility show and she caused an accident with Mrs Spaniel because she didn't listen to me asking her to wait so she didn't worry about her and all she did was moan about the wind and the cold and the rain and then dig and dig in the queue pre-accident about how this was going to be a car-crash that the people in front of me turned to give me a sympathetic smile and now I've got to get the physio out early for her as the poor old dog is still stiff and sore. She tried to go onto her usual spiel about The Brat and I cut her off telling her I was bored of hearing it, that he won't have owt to do with her ( he's slept in his car rather than come home this week).

We went to a party in the evening, she's known the family all her life, babysitting them. I grew up three doors down living next to them for 12 years before we moved here. They didnt recognise me, they all asked after The Brat. Even someone that I'd never met. 

Struggling. Struggling so much.

And on Saturday I was trying, trying so hard to make up for being short and arsey with her and J was supposed to meet us for dinner but bailed again so I bought her dinner at the Harvester and then Sunday was flyball training and I finally cracked when Colliedog was naughty and chased other dogs because they ignored me when I tried to tell them it wouldn't work and I finally cracked and spent the whole session in tears in the car and the older people tried to see if I was ok and tell me I can speak to them but I can't because its in the back of my mind all the time that they don't really care, that i'll just be 24 hours gossip.

 That there's no point talking about it because nothing will ever change and one of the girls I mentioned earlier made a huge show of giving me a hug when I did emerge to help pack up and yet, it's 24 hours later and only the old people have reached out to see if I'm ok. None of the ones that I thought were my friends.

And I came home and felt guilty about the way I've acted to Mother and treated her to FrancoMarco's which was expensive and both that and the Harvester meal is out of my budget and J who is TBF useless with contact anyway hasn't got in touch since Sat and I know he went to a Peter Kay gig Sunday and if he could do that, surely he could have seen me? So i'm again acting like a child and not messaging him and really I need some space from him even though he's supposed to be the one I can rely on.

And just to finish this very self-pitying woeful message, I'm awaiting an MRI for my hip and the current thought is that I'm dislocating it or there's a tear in the labral fibres (which I just want to point out, I suggested to the GP in Jan 2021) and there's also a train of thought that this is related to my as a baby being slow to learn to walk about was supposed to be investigated for hip issues then, but no one bothered so its entirely possible that this is a long standing issue and the fall bought it all to the surface and Mother was very gleefully talking about if this meant I'd need a hip replacement.... 

So tired of it all, so tired of always being in pain, so tired of being lonely and so very tired of being broke financially.