Apr 19

 Mixed bag today.

In the morning after giving Athena her morning meds I hacked my hair off.

I've been growing it out ( for the second time in my life ) the last 4 years or so. And as per the last time. I have got fed up with its maintenance. And with my shitty health I super struggle to even do the basics. So. I lopped it all off. Like some scene of a lunatic hacking their hair in the bathroom mirror.

Bit of a relief honestly. Zero maintenance hair suits my life at the moment.

But this is me all over. I shift slowly between really liking long hair - always true - and the reality of having to deal with its snarly bullshit once it gets to an "interesting" length.

Afterwards.

Girded my loins and took the car to get the battery changed. I belatedly realised this wasn't going to be easy for me because my feet are so fucked at the moment I can't walk any distance - so, whilst I could drop the car off, getting back home and then back out again would not be so easy.

I decided to try and just hang around in the city, get a coffee, maybe a sandwich and hope that a) my feet held up and b) I didn't get overtaken by feeling ill.

After a fruitless wander around for 30 minutes just looking for a place that did a sandwich and a coffee ( plenty of places, but they were all pizza, burgers, or full on pasta/ meaty affairs ) I ended up back where I started with my bad foot squealing. I ended up giving up and going to one of my fave restaurants 5 minutes walk down the road and having a "proper" lunch.

Which was amazing. And lifted my spirits a bit.

Hours later I picked up the car, headed to the pharmacy to pick up a bucket of ibuprofen, which I am currently living on, and some other stuff for my SIBO test I need to do.

Came home exhausted on wobbly legs. And had a long nap.

I then wanted to just remove the rear camera from the car ( I have a suspicion it is the culprit of the slow battery bleed ). But boy. Was it a struggle. Just shuffling up and down the house a few times. A screwdriver. A 10 minute task. I was wiped. Sick. Ill. Jesus christ. I am beyond useless.

I did get the task done. But. I felt miserable. Confronted with my incapability to do shit. A high end invalid.

I mulled over the fact that if this went on for much longer or got even a bit worse I would end up having to sell the house and I don't know. Going somewhere I could legitimately get some care. Yeah. That bad.

Sucky.

Had a shower. Felt better. Lightened up a bit. Be strong Johnny. Just a busy day is all. CFS is no joke. Stay positive. A third of this battle is not giving into the (rational) darkness.

Hazels mood has shifted again today into very dangerous territory. It's extremely changeable of late. At best we get a couple of days of clear sailing. Otherwise each 24 hours can be a rollercoaster. She is I think really struggling to keep the borderline demon in the box. It is beginning to leak its toxicity and anger into each day more and more.

After my long nap after my busy day I descended downstairs to find her torturing the doggos. She is completely unaware of it, but, her mood can be taken out on the dogs at times. Her anxiety will build about *something*. Long nails. Clean ears. Something else. Even. Just going for a pee ( she used to obsess about this to death.. over and over ). And then she will decide she has to do something about it. And because she is in that anxiety state she will just bull through any objections or discomfort they can have about her manipulations. At times. It's very old school battleship head nurse just forging on regardless of protestations. At times it comes close to the line in my humble opinion. It Is Not Cool. She wouldn't intentionally hurt them. But she fails to see her behaviour and absolute need to quiet her own anxiety means she ends up projecting misery onto them. This is one of the reasons her dog sometimes avoids her hardcore. I did gently talk to her a little while ago about it. Poppy is distressed. Just leave it for a while til she calms down again. She has to do it. She has to have it done. Sure. But not right now. You can leave it 10 minutes and do a bit more. No. Just being Silly. Has to be done. Tough titties. Not hurting her. 

They really don't like what you're doing. Just let them chill for a bit. I had to frame it to herself where Hazel gets very stressed about some medical stuff, and is given a break. And then comes back to it.

But no.

No breaks. Just do it. Because she cannot do a bit, take a 10 minute break, do a bit more, and have a calm interaction. It has to be blood and guts and misery. Where she gets angry. The dog becomes even more distressed. And it's not great. Just because. Because why ? Because it's her own demons pushing her. You don't have to do that. At all.

Interestingly enough a long time ago when she was particularly bad, and she first stayed at my place, I ended up banning her from taking my dogs out or looking after them. Of course she raged about it. I held my ground. No. You will Not use them as an outlet for your anger. Stress. Anxiety. She threw up all sorts of arguments. They need a walk. They need this. I held my ground. No. They are my responsibility. I look after them. You. Are banned. If you are calm and rational, then that's ok. But otherwise no. She exploded. And sulked. Which I endured, because, whilst I will put up with shit and abuse, I will not let people fuck with my dogs. I will die on that hill very gladly.

But that was then.

Back to today.

I watched Hazel manhandle Poppy who was clearly distressed. Hazel's face was a storm. Angry. Unhappy. Red.

Sigh.

I had a calm quiet chat with her. Was she ok. What could we do to help ? Anything you need we can do. How can we keep things escalating ?

She was surly, but soothed given I agreed to all her anxieties.

But within 10 minutes ( on her own in the bathroom ) it had reset.

Angry. Grumpy. Looking for a fight. Violence bubbling just under the surface.

She is very difficult at such times. And no matter how nicely, calmly or agreeable you are to anything she says. She will still rile up. Hardcore.

The other problem here is whilst she absolutely agrees with the principle of not taking out your mental issues on other people - human punching bags are not ok, and will robustly and angrily take a swipe at anyone she sees doing this first or second hand, she does *not* follow the same adage for herself. Quite the reverse in fact. Whether she's entirely aware of it or not is debatable. At times she does let slip somethings about her being difficult to deal with. But I think for the most of it, she is oblivious to her double standards and how much of an actual nightmare she can be ( again look at the incredulity of her reaction at being called an asshole by her dad because she was getting in as many wounding personal comments as she could ).

Which again, makes it very difficult.

And again. You can see why she has a pattern of self destructing all her relationships, including her dad.

Speaking of her dad.

She has done zero to bridge that gap. Despite me talking to him. And him ( and her step mom ) being very open and caring. She has put up a frosty barrier. And communications have lapsed into a cold silence. She has an entitled expectation that people must placate her and apologise and grovel, whilst she does little herself.

Because in her world she is owed multiple apologies and is blind to her own horrors.

Ho hum.

I think. She will never be rid of her demons. There is part of her that is too cosy with them. They are an outlet. A sink. They have at this point morphed and become part of her. And part of her that she is not willing to confront. There is also at times, a glimmer - or more than a glimmer - of sadism that rises in her, she likes being mean and dishing out pain. I think it's part of the trauma thing. She gets a hit of relief at lashing out and seeing pain caused. Sometimes you see it. It's. Not good.

The one thing above all else that Hazel cannot stand is - most dysfunctionally - positivity. Negativity she can agree with. Positivity is at best to be scorned, and at worst to be angrily stamped on.

Trauma.

I am in pain.

Everything else should also be pain.

No one is allowed to be positive.

Difficult.

Hazel's anxiety about being not at her flat has flared again ( this is I think just a symptom in general of her anxiety ). And everything else has suffered. I think all round it would probably be a good idea if she had a break, went home, and spent some time decompressing, punching the walls and chewing on the floor a bit to let her demon let off steam. She also doesn't want to do this - ostensibly for the sake of Athena - but, I highly suspect it's also because she doesn't want to have to face looking after herself and having to take Poppy out for regular walks, and paying money for stuff and in general having to look after herself a lot more. But this cannot ever be said or acknowledged.

It's a fact that in the time she's been with me since February, she has taken Poppy out for a walk less than you can count on one hand. 3 months. Less than 5 walks. Which. In my humble opinion. Is appalling. Not that I tell her that. Or voice an opinion. Her life. Her dog. And whilst, on the one hand I would not see any abuse to an animal, keeping a dog housebound where it has a bit of a garden and a couple of floors to run around in, is, at a pinch, meh, just about acceptable. It is to me very bad care. But. Not really into abuse territory. Ish. Arguable. Depending who you ask. 

When Athena was ok to walk. And I still had my foot. She would accompany us. But very much tailgating. If I decided to go out, she would come along. Left to her own devices - she does nothing. Demonstrably. This is Hazel all over. Almost zero capability for self motivation ( in all aspects of her life ).

There is, to be very clear here, absolutely no reason she could not take Poppy out for a daily walk. No excuse of me, or Athena or anything can hold any water here. She is just - as she has admitted just once in the last few months - lazy. 

The most I do is maybe once a week offer the idea that maybe should could take Poppy for a walk.

She never does.

I think that lack of drive and laziness is another layer to the issues she has. That whole, not got a job, not getting a job, just excuses, and then feeling not good about herself because she is so lazy, also doubles down on feeding the borderline monster in her.

As I've said before. She is way above my paygrade to sort out. Out of my depth.

She can at her best be lovely and funny and caring - albeit you only get tough fuck you caring from her. At her worst.. abusive. At the very least.

You can see within her the shimmers of why those abused become abusers. Why some people commit terrible violence on others - fucked up childhoods, bad choices, bad environments, a combination of all of them.

Difficult. A word I continually find myself saying in respect of her. 

I said to her today that I thought it would be a good idea if we started going out for something nice to eat once a week or so. Just to have something nice for her to do.

I am trying.

In vain.

As of this evening. I think she absolutely needs to spend some time on her own. For everyones sake. But I am not going to vouch that opinion. Or push her in any direction. I will offer her support and an acceptance of anything she wants to do.

Perhaps I need to add a little stiffness to my approach. More of a willingness to risk the ire of the monster to at times just say in a calm way - unacceptable. Your behaviour is not good. You need to check it. I am very willing to help. And support. But. Not put up with shitty behaviour.

A boundary.

I am not good with boundaries.

And Hazel is appalling at dealing with someone else giving her one ( again it's that whole one sided victim thing where she gets to set boundaries but much less so the other way ).

But we shall see.