I was up late this evening trying to catch up on a few things when, at around 12:50 Zoey walked past the office into the darkened kitchen. I followed her but she didn’t seem to see me there. After a while she acknowledged me but then started shaking inher limbs and gestered that she couldn’t talk.

I called Matt down for a second opinion and we did all sorts of tests and they all showed that she was physically OK but putting on an act. The ‘act’ part we deduced because she seemed to have quite good control over the shaking with the right incentive. Still, she kept this up for over 30 minutes so we figured calling the GP made sense, to be certain. The GP told me to get her to casualty … actually, call an ambulance was the what was said. I don’t call ambulances unless there is little or no choice and Zoey did not appear to be getting worse so I decided that driving her there myself made more sense. This I did and am pleased to say we were in and out within 30 minutes with a disgnosis that there was nothing physically wrong with her, that she perhaps needed to see a shrink more than an A&E doctor.

I tried to get her to open up when we got home but it was no good, she wouldn’t say anything so I had to leave it. So, as of right now, I have no idea what that was all about, a cry for attention maybe? A walking nightmare? I just don’t know but if I find out, here it will be.

Oh, as for yesterday, Jermaine managed to throw a cup of tea over the TV but no apparent damage done (this time) and he has been violent off and on all day. I mean, can life get any better?

I was up late this evening trying to catch up on a few things when, at around 12:50 Zoey walked past the office into the darkened kitchen. I followed her but she didn’t seem to see me there. After a while she acknowledged me but then started shaking inher limbs and gestered that she couldn’t talk.

I called Matt down for a second opinion and we did all sorts of tests and they all showed that she was physically OK but putting on an act. The ‘act’ part we deduced because she seemed to have quite good control over the shaking with the right incentive. Still, she kept this up for over 30 minutes so we figured calling the GP made sense, to be certain. The GP told me to get her to casualty … actually, call an ambulance was the what was said. I don’t call ambulances unless there is little or no choice and Zoey did not appear to be getting worse so I decided that driving her there myself made more sense. This I did and am pleased to say we were in and out within 30 minutes with a disgnosis that there was nothing physically wrong with her, that she perhaps needed to see a shrink more than an A&E doctor.

I tried to get her to open up when we got home but it was no good, she wouldn’t say anything so I had to leave it. So, as of right now, I have no idea what that was all about, a cry for attention maybe? A walking nightmare? I just don’t know but if I find out, here it will be.

Oh, as for yesterday, Jermaine managed to throw a cup of tea over the TV but no apparent damage done (this time) and he has been violent off and on all day. I mean, can life get any better?

I was just thinking this morning whilst doing the kids chores because they are off out doing other things … what is love?

I know that I love my kids, even the eldest who, at times, I really detest, I still love him. I couldn’t just watch whilst someone did harm to him, I don’t think I could anyway. I loved my mum, when she died in 1986 I was heartbroken, I cried uncontrollably for such a long time and for months afterwards I would burst into tears at the drop of a hat. For a while, I did think I loved my wife but that just went. I shall always feel related to her but not love.

I have had three boyfriends/partners in my life, did I love them?

Not sure, you see, love is such a strange thing to work out and I am not sure I am qualified.

My first, Neil, I was certainly infatuated with him. He was young, cute, tall and was good in bed. I think, if I had thought he loved me, I could have loved him but I am not sure I really allowed myself to.

Simon was sort of my second if I forget the 7 months of Nick first! Simon loved me, I am certain of that, it was something he made a point of telling me the first time we met in the real world and not online. All I know about how I felt was that it made me feel warm and comfortable that he loved me and needed me and maybe that was a kind of love? Somehow though, I still felt like a fraud. Because I can’t be certain of what love is, how do I know that the feelings I have are real love and not just some sort of mock up of it?

Lastly there was Nick and he too, I am certain of it, loved me, probably still does but, I don’t know how I feel about him, I certainly see him as more than just a friend, I must do because I feel awkward around him and I don’t feel that with any of my friends. Was that love? No, well, I am starting to think it was no because, well, love is something we are meant to know we are in and if I can’t be certain then logically I can’t be. I care about him deeply, it is though he shall always be part of me in some way but those feelings seem to be more akin to the way I feel about the kids than they do to how I should feel about a lover.

My conclusion he is thatI feel my mum dyeing killed something in me, it screwed my ability to ever really let myself love someone again because I couldn’t go through that pain again, that makes sense, it isn’t nice but I think it may be true. This, I guess, makes me a bit of a bastard because the conclusion is, any guy I allow to fall in love with me is not going to get 100% of me back, seems to be like a good reason for not doing relationships or, perhaps, I am wrong and just have not met the guy that will push me through that barrier I feel I have been so close to?

Anyway, an interesting thought for the day.

I was just thinking this morning whilst doing the kids chores because they are off out doing other things … what is love?

I know that I love my kids, even the eldest who, at times, I really detest, I still love him. I couldn’t just watch whilst someone did harm to him, I don’t think I could anyway. I loved my mum, when she died in 1986 I was heartbroken, I cried uncontrollably for such a long time and for months afterwards I would burst into tears at the drop of a hat. For a while, I did think I loved my wife but that just went. I shall always feel related to her but not love.

I have had three boyfriends/partners in my life, did I love them?

Not sure, you see, love is such a strange thing to work out and I am not sure I am qualified.

My first, Neil, I was certainly infatuated with him. He was young, cute, tall and was good in bed. I think, if I had thought he loved me, I could have loved him but I am not sure I really allowed myself to.

Simon was sort of my second if I forget the 7 months of Nick first! Simon loved me, I am certain of that, it was something he made a point of telling me the first time we met in the real world and not online. All I know about how I felt was that it made me feel warm and comfortable that he loved me and needed me and maybe that was a kind of love? Somehow though, I still felt like a fraud. Because I can’t be certain of what love is, how do I know that the feelings I have are real love and not just some sort of mock up of it?

Lastly there was Nick and he too, I am certain of it, loved me, probably still does but, I don’t know how I feel about him, I certainly see him as more than just a friend, I must do because I feel awkward around him and I don’t feel that with any of my friends. Was that love? No, well, I am starting to think it was no because, well, love is something we are meant to know we are in and if I can’t be certain then logically I can’t be. I care about him deeply, it is though he shall always be part of me in some way but those feelings seem to be more akin to the way I feel about the kids than they do to how I should feel about a lover.

My conclusion he is thatI feel my mum dyeing killed something in me, it screwed my ability to ever really let myself love someone again because I couldn’t go through that pain again, that makes sense, it isn’t nice but I think it may be true. This, I guess, makes me a bit of a bastard because the conclusion is, any guy I allow to fall in love with me is not going to get 100% of me back, seems to be like a good reason for not doing relationships or, perhaps, I am wrong and just have not met the guy that will push me through that barrier I feel I have been so close to?

Anyway, an interesting thought for the day.