Evidently I'm walking better if I can just swan out without it. I can't concentrate today- at all. I've just gone to housing hell in my mind, endless waiting for letters and pressure and ever time the text beep goes on my phone I think its the flatmate trying to manipulate me in some new way. Its a bit like being stalked. And leaving my room full of all my lovely things I've collected over the years and my beautiful clothes and my bears and scarves and beads and books for any old stranger to walk into feels a bit like leaving my knickers off and doing a handstand in Oxford Street. My computer is there too, and my lovely china in the kitchen cupboard. I don't even want him to BREATHE NEAR my belongings let alone leave them in that place. I've promised all my friends family and colleagues not to go there on my own in case he turns violent, which also leaves me trapped: unable to pop in for post and for odd beads I want etc.
I can't see a happy ending to this at the moment, not at all.
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