and one becomes three

Martha now has two sisters.  She has black sister and pink flowery sister, both folding.  Black Martha came from eBay, pink Martha came from an old schoolfriend.  If I was at all technologically ept* I'd post photos.  But I'm not.  I can type at 100 wpm, and am a whizz with word (and words) but I can't do "techy" stuff.  That's what I've got Boo for.

I am very ranty though, got one of those inate feelings of unease.  Normally at this point on a Saturday night I'd be wanting to take the Beardy One off to bed, but right now he's at his "other" house - digs near Uni where he's training to be a teacher.  So I haven't even got him to take my mind off everything.

Work is being a pain.  I generally (and genuinely, despite all protestations) love my job, that's why I've been doing it for a decade.  I love being the one in the background, organising someone, making sure they have everything they need.  But I cannot cope with the thought of doing this for The Alcoholic Partner.  I just know that my mental stability and physical health are in too fragile a state right now for me to have to argue about this with The Powers That Be.

They've GOT to know (and yes, I've told them) that I'm not able to handle this job properly.  Are they making me do it so they can get rid of me? 

I'm scared too.  Scared that this period of relative mental stability is coming to an end.  I've been unmedicated (for the bipolar) for just over a year now and haven't felt like this for ages - even before I stopped the meds.  My brain just WON'T stop.  And not in a good way.  The stress is getting to me and I just want to curl up in a little ball and hide away from everyone. 

I'm annoyed.  The Boy and I *know* we're going to get married.  We've discussed dates - July/August 2012, venue - I'm allowed to request brochures etc.  But we're not engaged?  And why?  Because he wants it to be "his idea".  I just want to get on with spending the rest of my life with him.

I'm in pain.  Despite all the bloody painkillers, because I'm not sleeping properly, my pain levels are high and my threshold is low.  And it's getting to the point where moving, in any way, hurts so much that I'm scared to try to do stuff. 

But most of all...I'm me. And me copes.  So I'll cope.  Until I can't any more.  But what then?

*what?  Isn't it obviously the opposite of inept?