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smokingbootBlack ice on the pavement, fell slam straight onto my back and banged my head badly enough for concussion to be a very real possibility. Vision was fine, hearing suddenly weirdly acute, everything else a bit lacking in co-ordination, Russ took me to A&E, all was well though they warned me I might be a bit 'slow' for the next two weeks. Not the best time to take a flight to a friend's birthday shindig down in Brum, but we had booked the flights and the catsitter and anyway... If it wasn't a concussion it wasn't a problem.
And it wasn't a problem. It's just a lot of painkillers, and even now, the head isn't where it hurts most, more the neck and bizarrely, my stomach muscles. I think I strained them sitting upright after the fall. Why I didn't use my hands to push myself up like a normal person beats me.
The party was excellent. I was careful about dancing, careful about alcohol, but still enjoyed it. Saw old mates bursting with new love, and one friend of many years whose quiet and slightly strange unhappiness worried me a little. It was all too loud for conversation, so I may contact them again, even though all I have to offer is 'I'm here if you want to talk.'
The birthday girl rocked it as she always does. It was a party crawl, starting in a bar, going to a bar restaurant, followed by a rock bar, followed by a rock club. About ten to 2 I had to bow out, and we made our way back to the host's house. My understanding is that the endlessly game left the rock club to go back to the rock bar but got lost a few times on the way...
We flew back yesterday, revelling in our wickedness before XR forces us all to live in immobile virtue in small thoughtful villages with names like Little Burton on the Thistle. All was well with cats and cat sitter, we ate, watched a bit of TV, crashed out. I had a nightmare about a man crouched close to the bed on R's side, and woke us both up with my shouts.
The nightmare worries me slightly for two reasons. One is practical: while this is a pleasant house and a safe area, I have recently experienced just a couple of PTSD symptoms. I watched the dads passing by picking up their kids from school, and found myself locking my door, then had a particularly vivid flashback of the blood all over my bedsheets from the attack. This pairing of symptoms has no internal consistency. Men passing by aren't a problem, and getting out, not staying in, was my necessity of the time, though if Bro had locked the front door properly, nothing would have happened. But lock-in isn't a part of the story. Feeling trapped is more of an issue. The bloody bedroom sheets image doesn't connect at all to being locked in, or to any of the visual stimulus that seems to have triggered it, so that's a bit concerning.
Also, the last time I dreamed of a stranger in my room, it repeated twice with some variation, and came vaguely true.
https://smokingboot.dreamwidth.org/352118.html
https://smokingboot.dreamwidth.org/353732.html
The moral of the story? Talk to R about the safety of the house. Consciously it feels perfectly fine but clearly my subconscious doesn't agree.
And it wasn't a problem. It's just a lot of painkillers, and even now, the head isn't where it hurts most, more the neck and bizarrely, my stomach muscles. I think I strained them sitting upright after the fall. Why I didn't use my hands to push myself up like a normal person beats me.
The party was excellent. I was careful about dancing, careful about alcohol, but still enjoyed it. Saw old mates bursting with new love, and one friend of many years whose quiet and slightly strange unhappiness worried me a little. It was all too loud for conversation, so I may contact them again, even though all I have to offer is 'I'm here if you want to talk.'
The birthday girl rocked it as she always does. It was a party crawl, starting in a bar, going to a bar restaurant, followed by a rock bar, followed by a rock club. About ten to 2 I had to bow out, and we made our way back to the host's house. My understanding is that the endlessly game left the rock club to go back to the rock bar but got lost a few times on the way...
We flew back yesterday, revelling in our wickedness before XR forces us all to live in immobile virtue in small thoughtful villages with names like Little Burton on the Thistle. All was well with cats and cat sitter, we ate, watched a bit of TV, crashed out. I had a nightmare about a man crouched close to the bed on R's side, and woke us both up with my shouts.
The nightmare worries me slightly for two reasons. One is practical: while this is a pleasant house and a safe area, I have recently experienced just a couple of PTSD symptoms. I watched the dads passing by picking up their kids from school, and found myself locking my door, then had a particularly vivid flashback of the blood all over my bedsheets from the attack. This pairing of symptoms has no internal consistency. Men passing by aren't a problem, and getting out, not staying in, was my necessity of the time, though if Bro had locked the front door properly, nothing would have happened. But lock-in isn't a part of the story. Feeling trapped is more of an issue. The bloody bedroom sheets image doesn't connect at all to being locked in, or to any of the visual stimulus that seems to have triggered it, so that's a bit concerning.
Also, the last time I dreamed of a stranger in my room, it repeated twice with some variation, and came vaguely true.
https://smokingboot.dreamwidth.org/352118.html
https://smokingboot.dreamwidth.org/353732.html
The moral of the story? Talk to R about the safety of the house. Consciously it feels perfectly fine but clearly my subconscious doesn't agree.
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no subject
Date: 2019-11-18 12:08 pm (UTC)Those bloody bedroom sheets are an image out of a horror movie...
Feeling trapped... What's public transportation like in your new home? Can you set out adventuring on you own when the fancy strikes you?
no subject
Date: 2019-11-20 06:41 pm (UTC)