S.  S... It's painful to live with someone who seems to reject you.  Who doesn't want much to do with you.  Who ignores you.  No sign of affection.  But today, amazingly, he actually talked to me when I went down to the office and opened up, for about ten minutes.  later in the pizzeriaI explained that myself and T are always behind him and that he should talk to us.  I suggested me meet each week and share a meal together.  He harrumphed at that but seemed to accept it.  In response to my complaint he never tells me what is going on, he complained that when he shares ideas and projects with me I say negative things, such as commenting about it being illegal to use bars to block the back door into the office if he has employees.  I tried to explain that these comments were not at all meant as criticisms, but to help him look at things more broadly, to see snags that might lead to trouble in future.  Because T was and is, so rash, rushing headlong into things and not even caring about doing things right, so that he ends up in trouble.  But now, lying in bed, I realise that the reason I look at things more negatively is that I'm trying to protect him. I want to keep him from danger, so I look for it constantly. That's a mother's undying love for her child. But in the meantime, I'm living with someone who doesn't want to live with me.  I want to leave this house, go to Britain, go to Romania,  Go, go....

He is brilliant though, what a mind!

How many times have I harmed my children?  I've thought of this before, and it returns again tonight,  S.  My idea it was for T to buy him the motocross bike, though T was against it. He was right.  Look what happened there.  Me being keen for S to do pole vaulting, which could easily have ended in serious disability or even death, as a consequence of that fall.  Then me not intervening more actively with O five years ago.  Why didn't I go to London? Why didn't I get her to talk to me about her feelings?  It nearly ended in disaster. She could have ended her life. And then S.  me pushing her to get a boyfriend.  Well she has.  There's a saying, "Be careful what you wish for",  and it's so true.  I don't have any current guilt about G.  but must remember not to push him in any direction, such as trying to marry an American, though I have been guilty of this in the past.

I am hoping so much that the doctors will offer cortisone when I do my checkup on Wednesday.  What if they don't? What will I do?  I don't know. I find it so difficult to talk to them.  To explain.  I think I can muster a few coherent sentences to talk bout my physical symptoms but Heaven knows how I could try to summarise the cognitive and personality effects.  Sometimes I feel like I'm getting dementia.  I can't possibly say That!  But I mean it.  Sometimes I sit there, unable to think of anything.  As if my personality is being slowly eroded away.