LEGS ON WHEELS ' LABELLED-DISABLED'
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Part 3…Chapter 8… Emotional Disconnection 2008…

4/7/2017

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​Hi Thoughts. I’m sitting up in bed with the LED spot light beaming down like the moon onto the page as I write with the rest of the room in darkness. I have made a king size spliff in honour of Jah. Before I enter the fields of Paradise to make sense of it all once again.

It’s 3.06am. I can’t sleep.

My mind is fully awake. There is so much in there occupying and demanding that I get it all out on paper. It won’t let me sleep until I have unleashed the beast.

Too many thoughts are swirling around in my head each trying to grab a hold of at least one of the spinning question marks. All of which are too big and glassy to be seized by my clutches continuously clawing away.

He was great in the beginning. Everyone thought he was this amazing soul, true love shining through like sparkling gold.

Always the first to jump up and help me.

Do anything for me he would.

When people were around.

Not so much now, when we are on our own.
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They don’t see this side of him. He’s been keeping it well camouflaged, but I’ve been seeing it creeping in for some time now. I see it around him. I feel it from him. 
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In the living room, my bed is situated by the front window. We have put one of the sofa’s able to divide the room not far from the foot end of my bed so there is space for me. Making the rest of the room look more like family living space.

My partner has chosen to sleep there. Not upstairs on the comfy custom made bed that cost me £5000. All for the sake of my disability and a bed big enough for two. Once this house has been adapted I can’t wait for us to sleep on it. It has heated mattresses and a massage function. I think it strange he has chosen not to sleep on it or even take advantage of a massage.

When I’m on my hospital bed, I call over to him when I need something. He is either watching TV, playing a game on the Xbox that I bought him last Christmas, and now wish I didn’t. Or he’s staring vacantly, unoccupied into nothing. 
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He doesn’t respond, so I call out again. Still no reply. This has been ongoing for a while so I have started to count the seconds between each of my calling for his attention. His care. His love. His wanting to be with me. His wanting to help me.
I call out his name then start to count the seconds. I reach 12, 13, 14, 15 before I call his name again and wait again to be acknowledged.
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Other times I have waited longer after a repetitive cry out that has led me to roar.
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I know he has heard and understood my voice. There are only two of us in the room.
He just choses to ignore, passes it off as, ‘Sorry I didn’t hear you’.
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All I can say to that is Bollocks. You can Fuking hear me alright. You’re not deaf. Your just being a Cunt!!!

I can feel him now. He’s awake. The static energy of his mind hitting mine but we stay in silence. He’s aware that I’m awake with the light on shared with the herb scenting the air in the room.

He’s not sleeping.

Maybe I disturbed him with the light on and my moving about.

I’m wondering why, and how much longer this is going to carry on. My daughter has picked up on our vibe. She keeps asking me if I and He are ok.

I’m brushing her questions aside for now, but the way I have brought her up she is fully self-aware and not stupid. She has noticed that there are a few grapes missing from his bunch.
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I’ve settled into my life as a paraplegic quite well even with all the health issues that come with it, now and forever as I take a breath.

The moment my partner stated that he had jumped over the balcony when he saw me lying on the ground helpless. Has always niggled me because even though I have no memory of the night always in question. I’m pretty sure my keys, the ones I used to get back in to and lock up the Cricketers Pub would have been in eye view and an easy find.


​My beautiful blond friend who I call ‘Free Spirit’, called over a few days ago. As always it was great spending time with her. We opened a bottle of red and continued our conversation of life and the accident. She turned to face and converse with my partner who had his back to us while he played a game or whatever he was doing on the PC.

He didn’t turn around and face us to engage himself in conversation. He said, with strong conviction and quite out of the blue:
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‘I’m fed up and have had enough of talking about it. Everyone keeps asking questions. I don’t want to talk about it. There’s nothing to say’. He then turned the PC off and took himself upstairs. Both us girls watched him disappear. We were dumbfounded. I apologise for his outburst and she apologised for being persistent.
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We changed the conversation and carried on slurping, allowing the gracious red wine to adore us with ruby red lips and stained teeth.

Winter has started to spread its destruction across the land. Rain never stops and it makes me feel defeated by stopping me going out.

Fuk, it’s 4.24am.
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He’s sleeping now. I can hear him snoring. It’s time for me to join the realm of dreams myself, so good night Pen, lol… Zzzz.
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