It’s not often my Dyslexia is a disability to me. So when it is, it always comes as a surprise. A huge traumatic surprise.Because I am tired and grieving and ill my dyslexia is in overdrive. I am over whelmed and feel unable to cope.

People keep asking me questions that I am unable to answer and as a consequence they think that I am being obstructive.Then I have to have all these communication battles to assert to the other person, that I am not dim, I am not being awkward, I simply do not know!

I am unable to move, because of this, I have lost a job because of this and the thought of having a relationship full of battles makes me want to crawl inside myself for a very long time.

I have nothing left. again. There is a meme on FB about a cat who is writing a diary about being held captive by hoomans… I feel like that cat. I feel like the donkey with the poorly leg in the advert; the one that always make me cry.

I feel lonely.

Or at least I did till the following happened:

1) A friend called to say hello

2) The man in a government office went out of his way to help me, even though I was crying and incoherent at times. He spent two hours working through the issues I was having. And, he stayed with me, empathically.

3) A colleague and friend of mine told me my word was golden and that she could wait for me to giver her some info.

4) A new friend who is young and who I would love to be my daughter has offered to take me on holiday. I will refuse of course, but what a wonderful gesture.

I have to go. I have to call my friend, who had to wait to say hello, till all of the above unfolded.

I may feel lonely, but I am not alone.