The dark rings are back.

Third day home and feel like I have not been away. I accidentally took a photo of myself whilst at the lakeside the other day. I pressed something and suddenly there I was on the screen instead of the lake. It surprised me. My face looked calm and relaxed and those dark rings under my eyes, that I know so well, were not visible. But they are back with a vengeance. I feel stressed. I am listening to my morning meditations but I am not 'feeling' them today.

I have a lot on my plate and I do not know where to start. The house is like a storage lock up. I still have all my work resources stuck in the box room and what we call our lounge. I need to decide what I am going to do with it all. Whether I will keep a minimal play therapy 'toolkit' in case I return to play therapy or whether I just need to sell the lot of it. I am not going to make any rash decisions at present as I know I am not in a good place. But at the moment, I am not considering a return to play therapy.

I love gardening and growing plants but I have even been neglecting them. They need trimming or repotting but I just have not had the wherewithal to give them any TLC. I do care for the dogs though. Always have done and always will, although I have asked others to walk them recently as I had too much to do in the house.

Then there is my father and all his issues that affect me. He wants me to get rid of all of his books. He has a vast library. It takes up all the walls in his study and there are a lot of books in the lounge too. Aaaaargh! That is going to be a mahoosive job.

He has now received his care package costs and he refuses to pay that much for his care. I have an inkling that he thinks Muggins here will take over the carer's role once again. Hmm. I have other plans. I am ringing around all the care agencies to check on their availability and costs. The thought of having to physically touch him to wash him makes me want to throw up. I am sure it all comes back to how his physical contact towards me was rarely positive. I cannot even ever remember getting a hug from him. Now, he expects me to help him get washed and dressed. Nah! I cannot do it, the sick is in my throat now with just the thought of it.

Really, I have to do everything for him now as in make all his food and drinks. He has not done anything like that for months. So the other evening, I was dead tired, just wanting my bed and he asked for a sandwich. Well, in my head, it felt like he was asking for a full on three course meal. I politely told him that he could go and make his own sandwich. He keeps telling me that he is capable of much more than everyone thinks. Sadly, he did not feel capable that night or since so I had to be the sandwich maker. Quelle surprise!

I feel like I have never been away. Back to the grindstone.