Diary

Diary: I was walking my dogs last night when something occurred to me. I was content to be out with my dogs and not focussing on just getting home. Usually everything is a chore. I have become an expert at looking happy and I always smile politely and make sure no one suspects I am feeling depressed. Underneath I just want to get the fuck back home where it's safe. The new medication must be starting to work and I certainly feel a bit different. After the walk I even got stuck into some work for a few hours which was a relief considering how much I have on at the moment. I also notice that still there is a lack of wanting to use heroin. It can only be good. On a lighter note, we bought two pairs of food tongs. When Angela got home with the shopping, I pulled them out of the bag and said "new tongs"? She instinctively replied, "Two Tongs ... Tingtong, Sing Song Singsong ... where is Dr. ... Tingtong". She then proceeded to yell at me for the next 15 minutes for putting that stupid poem in her head.