Where did we go wrong?

Getting born? - as George once suggested.
Why do we hurt others so much, when we don’t really want to? I think there are very few real villains; yes there are some, but not many. We hurt others through ignorance, carelessness, the need to survive, maybe – but not malice. We blunder through life and, as they say, “shit happens”.

George used to say he did not believe in ‘original sin’ “My sin is pretty unoriginal” he said. And he was right.

It was 8.30 when I awoke this morning. First decent night’s sleep I’ve had in ages – well, ever since… you know. I haven’t heard anything from the police; I suppose they are “pursuing various lines of enquiry”, like they say on television. Of course, we didn’t make the telly – I think we would have qualified for a 45-minute slot on a local newscast but the floods took all the airtime. Anyway, the local paper was bad enough. I don’t want to think about it. I’ve had an attack of piles! I’m sure it’s all the stress. Still, they feel better now, fingers crossed.

I think about George. It was unwise to start to look at bits of his writing. I should have just burned the lot. But as I say, it has been raining for days. The lawns are underneath two inches of water. George wasn’t much of a gardener – come to think of it, he wasn’t much of a ‘anything’ really. I don’t mean that in a nasty way. I mean he sort of dabbled in all sorts of stuff. A ‘Jack of all trades’, he spread himself too thinly. Here, I’m talking about him as if he were dead – which he definitely is not!

I would go and see him, only I hate hospitals – especially psychiatric hospitals. They tell you that you cannot ‘catch’ a mental illness. But how can they be so sure? I mean with all those crazy vibrations buzzing around, it’ like a force field? It could be potentially dangerous – like when you put your credit card down near a powerful magnet.

Which reminds me of the reason I need to see my husband: I am going broke, slowly but surely. (I have had no response to the stuff I advertised here – perhaps I should try eBay, except I don’t know how to work it.)
And here I am sitting on a wedge of money (the house) which I cannot get at because he needs to sign the necessary papers. I know he is supposed not to be able to make any decisions like that, but all the same I think I should pay him a visit. Of course I am concerned about his health, too.

I’ve always been concerned about his sanity. I’ve just come across something written on the back of an envelope:

“She had to have the doctor in the middle of the night. And in the morning she just had to have the postman”.

See what I mean?

I feel lonely. I know I am ALONE but you can be alone and not feel lonely. So why do I feel lonely? I wish you were here now, Anna.