Monday, 8 February 2016

Roast Lamb Leftovers

I had a dinner party last night; not a big party, just five guests plus Katherine and I. My plan is to have more, smaller groups over, more often, and to ask all of my friends to a smaller dinner at some point. I'll still have some big parties, but these smaller groups are better for me these days, as my ability to deal with the excitement and stimulation of a large group gets worse and worse.

When I say "I had a dinner party". it should really be "Katherine and I had a dinner party". While I can still do most of what is needed to make a decent dinner, the effort involved is substantial for me. I know as things get worse that I will need more help, but even now I appreciate all the work and help that Katherine puts into making these dinners work for me.

My friends help too. From the moment they show up, they ask what they can do to help. They bring food, lots of food. I have enough dessert in my fridge to feed a small army. I am at the stage where this is really the only way it can work. To make a whole dinner as well as a dessert, all on my own, would simply exhaust me to the point of tears.

I love having them over. I come alive in company. Even when it becomes too much, I don't want them to leave. Being with other people is what keeps me going. Being with Katherine is a big part of that. She keeps me going. I am an extrovert, through and through. I cannot imaging a solo life, a life without others in it, constantly.

Of course the real upside of a dinner party is leftovers. My breakfast today, so far, has consisted of three chunks of roast lamb, and a cup of coffee. Next I am going to have at least one helping of one of the three desserts remaining. I might even have two. It's a good thing, this eating, being able to enjoy good food and drink. When I lose that, all really will be lost.


  1. Confused. Yesterday's blog you were sitting at home, drinking rum and watching TV and wondering why your friends weren't around.

  2. That comment was more directed at those who would judge me for drinking at home alone. Also, you will often find that I move from one emotional state to another, fairly quickly. It's a function of failed medication right now.

  3. I think it's a function of terror, too, though we don't want to say it. I think what appears to be mental blocks are (sometimes) abstract fits like post shock syndrome. The mental thought of what's going on combined with the physical is a double barrel. That said, nobody wants to drink too much, even to take the edge off. I think people on the outside have no idea what it's like to be diminished day in, day out, no matter how much they see or do for you. They can still get up and walk around the block and they cannot imagine not walking around the block. It's too soul shocking to even describe, though your blog is giving everyone a real idea of what the hours are like. It's not so easy to take up a hobby, like knitting while you're trying to accept you can't go fishing.

  4. I think you are on to something here. It's kind of like having permanently recurring PTSD. There is no escape from it.