Inchcock’s Dairy: Tuesday 28th October

02T01

Now here’s a word you don’t hear often: Having a sad or solemn countenance. No charge!

Tuesday 28th October 2014

Dream filled night of which I can recall very little.

Sprang wide awake at 0300hrs. Checked the stinging little ‘Inch’, no blood at all, but inflamed again and tender.

Got myself downstairs, washed pots made a cuppa and started the laptop. Took medications.

An idea came from somewhere for a rhyme about how badly depressed I felt this morning, I decided to see if i could manage to make it applicable then try and get it written down to put on my Inchcock website.

Oh dear, I feel a wet warmth again, hang on I’ll nip up and check…

Yes, it’s bleeding again! (The little Inch)

Had good wash and sanitisation session.

Got the things ready for the Nottingham Hospice Charity shop in the bag, updated this and set off on my walk… must remember to catch a bus to town afterwards so I can pick up me book from the library.

Might go and feed the ducks if I have time as well.

Added some bird seed in me bag, and set off on me walk into Sherwood to the Nottingham Hospice shop.

On my way I espied that the Computer shop was open and I called in to see about buying a boosted laptop. But he was on his own serving a customer and another one waiting. So I decided to leave until another day.

Left me stuff with the Hospice shop and caught a bus into town.

02T02I wobbled through the city centre with its aggressive crowds.

 Then I called in Sainsbury’s to get some bread for the ducks. Oh and a ready meal that looked nice. (that was not for the birds but me – just thought I ‘d mention that like)

I took a photo of the west side of the canal from the bridge. Two swans apparently investigating if the man and woman sat on the bench were 02T03going to feed them. They were well out of luck.

Then over the road and down the path to where the dunks were loitering yesterday, taking a photo of a docked barge on the way.

The frenetic water fowls came en masse, fighting each other for the food. Like yesterday the pigeons joined in 02T04and got some bird seed from me for their troubles.

A lady with her daughter in a pram seemed amazed at the sight.

I looked up at the bridge, and I’d got an audience of sight seers (Is that how you spell it?) too! Some taking photos of me?

02T05As I walked back up the path I took a picture of the lady and her daughter walking away from the barge.

Then a CPO approached me with a grim expression on his face… oh dear…

It seems that feeding the birds there is now illegal and I risk an on the spot £60 fine?

02T06I explained that I had not seen any notices. He explained that they had been vandalised and removed: And that is why he was not giving me an on the spot fine?

He seemed a little understanding though and I cringed and offered my humble apologies as I scurried off. No wonder people were taking my picture, they’d not seen anyone do it for years.

Better find somewhere else in future.

Might have to start going to Derby to feed their ducks in future perhaps?

The knees and feet were bad now as I walked through town to the main library to collect the book I’d ordered that Sandra Lentz had recommended me to read.

I was a tad amazed that I remembered to be honest.

I got in and walked the crippling stairs up to floor three ‘Biography’s’ to collect it.

The chap said they keep ordered books on the Ground Floor for collection. I must have bad because he pointed out where the lift was for me to go back down.

02T07There was a mirror in the lift (Elevator for our American readers) and I took a photo of my smiling but weary self.

I collected the book, paid me 50p charge and walked up to Parliament Street to catch the bus back to Carrington.

As I got off the bus I felt a wetness in my lower regions and had a quick feel to see if the bleeding has started again – only to realise that I’d left me flies wide open! Oh dear, is that why the folks on the bridge were taking photo’s of me? (Oh dearie me… will they appear on Faccebook later? Oh dearie me. Don’t know what I ‘m worrying about really. They’d have to have a really good zoom lens for anything to show up?)

Back to the flea-pit WC. Then updated this tosh.

Took me medications then microwaved me nosh.

Inchcock’s Ode to Depression

I am aware of my failings and depressions some of the time,

I thought I’d try to write them down into some sort of rhyme,

Guilt at not being able to sort out depression is ever present,

The fight to live with it is most certainly unpleasant.

 

The house is in a worse state than that of Steptoe and Son,

Dirt, untidy a mess naturally people will want to shun,

Damaged roof, cooker blew up rubbish I cannot remove,

The nagging guilt, that I just cannot manage to improve.

 

When I do find the spirit to try and clean it up a bit,

The arthritis angina or dizzy spells will prevent it,

Soon it feelings come into my ever rattling mind seems to split,

Later the guilt is magnified self loathing, I feel I’ll throw a fit,

But withdraw into myself, waiting for hope manifest or flit.

 

Confused all the time, my mind talking to me, castigating,

Telling me how pathetic I’ve become: For some hope I’m waiting,

To get relief from my late in life torment called depression,

But still I like to help others if I can, that’s some concession.

 

It seemed different when I was working and had a vocation,

Then the ailments mounted and slowly grew the frustration,

I’ve stopped even thinking about going on a vacation,

I’d love to be free of the fears the guilt and vexation.

Something inside surrenders, and I cower, hide ignore things,

My mind torments me with screeching violin strings,

Rasping out to me my faults and pathetic multiple failings,

It never stops reminding and nagging at me about these things.

 

Yobs appear outside my house, I run to the bathroom to hide,

Fears have arrived late in life, one time I would never have cried,

People in authority and shop-keepers now con me with ease,

I struggle at times with angina and Arthritic hands and knees,

The haemorrhoids, the ticker ulcer bladder, but I’m okay with these,

They are a fact, but depression is an unwanted mystery to me.

 

I try to get out on a walk 4-5 time a week,

Dodgy that with me always wanting a leak,

Feed the ducks in Nottingham, any company I can find,

For a while then, this depression I don’t give a mind.

 

Is there a mental aspect linked with this thing?

Some days I feel like I could actually sing!

I so love  to Facebook and do my blogging,

Reading what others create and are coping.

 

On this web I’m a different person and bold,

But times I fight depression that takes a hold,

Losing of course, I wondered as I grow old,

Can I buy a brain remould?