Saturday, 21st.
Another weekend alone. Mrs Hudson's found herself some new toyboy-type fellow. Molly is busy at work. I could go to Mycroft, but I don't feel like being with a Holmes today. Or any day for that matter. I've had enough of Holmes' for this lifetime. Any lifetime thinking about it.
I visited his grave last night after writing on here. I sat down leaning against it for an hour and a half, crying. By chance, an old lady stopped and picked me up. She saw that I got back here safely then went her own way. It's people like that who stop me from going mental. If I didn't have the occasional visitor, or passer-by, I would stay in one place, fixated on my memories of him. I really would go mental.
They're out on the street again. Two rival 'gangs' have set up 'bases' on either end of the road. Every night, at 9pm exactly, they go onto the street and fight, blocking up the road for ages. In the end, someone will get extremely bored and they turn their backs on fighting and concentrate on licking their wounds. The most serious injury any of them has had was when one got ran over by a cyclist.
My psychiatrist said my emotions are "all over the place at this desperate hour". I then proved her right by getting wound up, losing my temper and storming out. This blog's not helping much in letting out my emotions. I get angry one minute, then I'm shaking, then it's onto lonely. I can't control myself. It's very rare that I go out. When I do, I get the shopping in, visit his grave then come back. A half an hour job. That is, until I collaps at his grave and cry.
I'm leaving you with this definition of a saying.
life ruiner (noun)
someone who constantly ruins your life with their perfection, and smiles while they do it.
John.