Stuck outside of Mobile with the Memphis blues again

So my return has been delayed with one thing and another and that means another night at my folks.  It is a strange bed and even though I have brought cuddle pillow with me my joints are less than receptive to the sleep process.
Slept fitfully, avoided z drugs but had to take painkillers at 4am. I am walking with great difficulty and my shoulders cannot currently support my arms weight away from my body. In other words Back To Square One.
My head is being completely fried by the divorce thing. I am trying to get advice on it but the process is incredibly painful to me. I do not want other people in my life with information. I do not normally share info about what I am having for dinner let alone my private life. I do not know how to cope with this.

I like driving in my car

So today was and is rough.
I had to visit my folks for Reasons one of which was to return a loan car and get my trusty picasso back. Picasso soooo much easier for spac chariot carrying and even the driving position is easier. No cupholder tho.
I started with left shoulder, hip and knee borked to a (for me) high degree and this did not improve. On top of this is depression and anxiety levels at very high level.
On the way down I even called Clarice but he is on holiday.
As I drove I was comfort eating and also vaping (my new vice) heavily.
But also as I went I got more and more pain. Oddly I can onky focus on the pain so the rest of it is better.
But the pain is at the level where it was over a year ago. Crippling.

Well, did you eva...

So today at a meeting I was reminded forcibly of how post 92 institutions work, and it was not a happymaking thing. I wont say specifically what happened but I was talking to a very pretty young lecturer afterwards and gave him some warnings. Some of which were  clearly too late.  So herefor anyone working in academia is a list of things to beware of, particularly in post 92s.

The Email Game.
In the mornings you will get a variety of emails. Your colleagues will send them, and they often start "I had thing x brought to my attention and I know this is your area of expertise so wondered..." and then proceeds to detail a task.  Here is the thing, if that task was anything kther thana shitstorm of dingoes kidneys then your colleaguewould do it themselves for the hours credit. They are playkng pass theparcel because they can hear it ticking. It is utterly vital that you pass these on again. Draw a flow chart of expertise and use it to divert. If you get a reputation for saying yes you are beyond fucked.

Do Not Say Yes.
At meetings or in conversation do not say yes. If a task tickles your fancy offer to look into it, in veiled language.  My old boss Tim used to say only do something if you care about it, or can do it well. Or both. He was right. At firstyou will be under pressure to meet your contact hours total and so tempted, but do not do it.

It Starts With An Audience.
This, in the competitive HE world should not need saying. But sadly it does. Do your market research first. Who are you trying to recruit? What do they want from a course? How can you contact them? What do they get from it?  Heres how it SHOULD go...
New course is mooted. Marketing and student recruitment identify a demographic and the demographics needs/wants.  Senior management sign off on the concept. The course is written to deliver this and then passed for validation. Then you recruit actively and launch.
Here is what happens...
Govt funding is announced and only noticed late in the day. A course, any course, is cobbled together at the last minute by junior staff who cant play the email game. The course has been recruited by staff who didnt know the content because noone did. It doesnt address a demographic because the course is about what the institution can easily deliver, not about need. It will work, at low recruitment levels, because anything will. Next time, because it ran ok the course is rerun because, well, it worked and nobody can be arsed to do it right. The course never developes and is dropled after 3 yrs.
Rinse and repeat

Get a Mentor.
You need someone to deflect the shit.

It Is Political, but Not Necessarily Personal
If you think Westminster has politics, buckle up kid you aint seen nothing yet. Do nlt align yourself with a bloc until you know who does what. Be aware of the manouevring even if you do not want to join in. Eventually you will end up doing it too. Find a way to live with this.

Learn The Rules
The only way you can help students is by understanding the power structure. Your jnstitution will have a constitution. Learn it. I am serious, you are pointless without it.

I do not doubt I will think of more. But that is it for now. Good luck Padowan.

Hot air for a cool breeze

So yesterday and today were different brands of shit. Depression and anxiety very high and debilitating. I have been forcing myself to go to the gym and do jobs etc. But its hellish. Anxiety attacks in asda that kind of thing. I really am not coping wellwith this. I am on bupropion day 5 and i cant really tell any difference yet, though its early days.
I had a game of backgammon and dinner last night and true to form Spock came through and was charmkng and interactive and had a nice evening. Driving home I was silently crying and fearful, not of anything, just fearful.
Ive identified the flies from the other day. They are eye floaters. My brain is noticing them more and assigning meaning to them.
Last night Sheldon workedout that the gap between the cuddlepillow and me was an excellent catvalley.  My subcomscious recognised this and kept me immobile all night.  Result is a subluxed left shoulder which is very troublesome.  Ho hum.

It was a Chelsea morning, and the first thing that I saw...

Mornings are such fragile things.
Real mornings that is. Not the bit where you drowsily hit snooze on the phone. The bit where you open your eyes and take proper steps towards consciousness. Those with a chronic illness or Mental Health problem may know whats coming next...
Mornings are a time of hope. And I am beginning to think that hope is something that the chronically ill should not have. You open your eyes, and for a moment, before the brain body connection has fully clicked in, you are normal. Doing a normal thing. Normally.
And then IT hits you. Whatever IT is for you. For EDSers its often a subluxation of the hip or shoulderor some joint pushed beyond tolerancd by long tension.
It may be that rolling over ready to get up reminds you that your mobility is fucked. It might be the tremor in your hand as you put your watch on. It might simply be the cloud of despair that is depression hitting you in the brain.
Whatever IT is, when IT hits another piece of your capacity for joy and life is rubbed off. Sanded down and salted. It hurts.
That was my morning.
I opened my eyes hugging something soft and yielding, my morning erection pressing hard into it.
It turned out that it was the pregnancy pillow I hug at night to stop hip and shoulder problems. But that wasnt the issue.
What hit me next was depression. My mind suddenly remembered it was mad.
This mad is quite disturbing. It comes along with anxiety and tremor and...well I think I am seeing flies. But they could be real. Everytime i grab the fly spray they arent there. Who knows.
I am doubting my ability to tell what is real. Except for my loss. That stays real.
I am trying to stay out late at the moment. This is mrsinkys part of the hokiday with foal and i do not want to interrupt them. Even though they are precious to me. They have rejected me. I have to live with that.
Soon it will be my foaltime. Probkem is dven tho mrsinky diesnt want me in her time I do want her in mine.
So it goes...

Every now and then I fall apart

So another bad few days.  After an argument with Mrsinky left me numb on Sunday I have relly struggled to go out.  At the same time a post came up at a v good Uni I used to work at so I had to apply.  The application ended up being 12 pages of close type.  I have a cat in hells chance of getting it but had to try.  Worst part was the equal opps form....they had a tick sheet for types of disability and i basically got bingo on it.
But the effort was exhausting.  In the middle of it I had to stop and go to see the new psychiatrist, who gave me  bupropion, which I am now on day 2 of.  he was a gentle voiced beardy of the 'you believe it and thats what matters' school of cuntery.  Still at least its a different thing to try.
All this has eft me exhausted and weepy.  Ive had a lot of agoraphobic type incidents.  Today am stuck in middle of the couch with the shakes.
my brain is not working well at all.  every time i see mrsinky i just fall apart more.
nothing I do makes it better.
In other news I have a new cuddlepillow to support me during sleep and it is very good, but my neck hates it.  not sure how to support that.

Letsdo the time warp again

Ok so 5 years or so back i was having a discussion with my GP. I wanted an antidepressant that didnt have sexual side effects and wouldnt make me gain weight. I knew bupropion had this profile and was widely used in the us.  The gp looked it up ans said he couldnt prescribe it except for quitting smoking.
This is the widest prescribed AD in the states, effective as an adjunct to ssris, combats comfort eating, actually reverses ssri sexual disfunction...but the nhs will only give it for quitting smoking.
I bring this up becauseyesterday I sawdr snidearses boss and he wrote a scrip for it straightaway.
Aside from that I suppose the meeting went well. My agoraphobia has been worsening but I keep going out in a limited way. Dr endoflevelbaddy wasone of those quiet voiced psychsyouwant to thump. So I ended up goading him with psych intervention evidence quality.  Normal stuffreally.
Meanwhile still want tk die.

and so we beat on, boats against the stream...

OK so on Monday I was taken in to A and E by a combination of hunky police and wiry paramedics, given tea, assessed and ...sent home.
The politics of the IDT meant the team at the hospital couldnt formulate a care plan, and said they would sort it and call me yesterday.
They didnt, of course.  Well, you knew that.
Today kicked off with a massive attack of the squits, at 5am.  probably something I ate.  OK now tho. But it left me exhausted.
And still no care, or care plan, or contact with care professionals.
At 2pm the manager of all the local IDTs, I suspect that makes him Sauron, rang.
Basically he was saying he was looking at what PALS had said, and I had said, and was calling the IDT to point out that what I had asked for, although tricky, ws reasonable, and must be done.  So victory.
However...
He said he felt that things with me and them were sooo fucked that maybe I should transfer to another IDT locally.  I suspect this may be a good idea.  But it is likely to take several weeks. In the meantime I am left with Clarice, a broken relationship and nothing much else.
He, like me, did not understand why they had been so pigheaded all the way along when it was clearly damaging me.
but then who does understad that?
anyhoo...we shall see wha happens.  He was phoning Clarice to ask about that urgent care plan from monday.  no contact so far.  cant be that urgent.

I will have a large Work and Tonic please

My twitter feed, which suffers a great deal from my tendency to argue with people and not allow others the last word ( Muttley syndrome) popped up a link to this article today.
My first reaction was this:

@SciBry @deevybee only someone with a low teaching load believes that

— Inky Thehorse (@inky_r) July 14, 2015

which elicited this:

@inky_r @deevybee Most scientists don't teach.

— Bryan Gaensler (@SciBry) July 14, 2015

To which I called Bollocks. Huge sweaty bollocks.
But you see this is a matter of perspective.  In america this may be true, though I have to say that my friend, who has been Head of Chem Eng. at one of the top American Uni's routinely complains about his teaching load.  But it was asserted that most research was not done in Uni's but in Medical research laboratories.  If I understood correctly.
Now I suspect this may be a bit medicocentric but I am not in a position to judge the American system.  I will let others do so.
However from a European, and specifically ( I speak from where I have experience) UK, French and Swiss perspective, the idea that scientists do not teach is...unreal.
In the UK the vast majority of research is done in Universities. I can say that with moderate confidence.  It came about during the 80s when places like Shell, Boots, Pfizer etc. began applying the 80:20 rule, closing down commercial research centres and contracting out through PACE awards, KTI or other uni collaboration in order to get the research done off-site.  The UK government does run centralised laboratories, a list is here but note the list is quite small and these labs tend to be open access facilities like Diamond Light at Harwell.  They collaborate with Uni and commercial research but are relatively lightly staffed in and of themselves.  Think of them as a shared fumehood for much of the time.  Of course Rothamstead etc. are exceptions, but the number of staff at those places rarely rivals a big, or even moderately sized Uni.  and there are far more Unis out there.
And before you say it, teaching-only unversities are a very very rare thing in the UK because research is a cash cow (30% of budget) that funds teachng etc due to the extortionate overheads charged. (One institution I worked at insisted that after a grant had been costed an on-charge of 45% of the total (including equipment and consumables) be added to cover Uni expenses.  Everywhere has some on-charge, that one was just the most eyewatering I have seen)
The vast majority of staff at universities are academic.  This is true of the science departments as well.  I can say without a shadow of doubt that most scientists in the UK work in an academic institution.  And that means there is teaching going on.
So who does the teaching? Now as ever Oxbridge does it slightly differently because they are a bunch of inbred throwbacks who think the world looks like Hogwarts. (I worked in Cambridge for a while, believe me).  But here is how it works.
In the UK the basic unit of independent science is the Lecturer.  Thats the lowest grade that is likely to be a PI on a grant.  Professor is a very senior title, unlike in the US, normally a department head.

A lecturer will have been employed after having done a couple of years postdocing and will be expected to submit a successful grant application and get some research done very quickly.  Some institutions employ teaching fellows but this is mainly a dead end job and nobody wants to do it unless they have given up on advancement.
Lecturers, as the name suggests, are employed by the university to teach.  But they are, notoriously, graded on their research.  Most junior Lecturers will still be getting their hands dirty in the lab, trying to get the initial results to pump prime research.  If they get grants in they will normally try to employ a PhD student, or a postdoc, to do the research properly.  I would not count PhD students as scientists, they are embryo scientists.  But even so PhD students are often required to demonstrate in labs or take tutorial sessions (supervisions if you are somewhere posh) which is teaching.  You see I count student contact hours as teaching (undergraduate students that is).  So do most Uni contracts.
Postdocs are definitely scientists in my book, and postdocs definitely teach.  It is often a didactic requirement of the grant.  Most of them want to do it because it is good on the CV for becoming a lecturer.
Now s you move up through Senior Lecturer, reader, Principle lecturer, Professor the teaching load varies, but it rarely disappears.  when it does it is normally because the Prof has money enough to Buy Out his teaching hours, which then gets spread onto a plethora of postdocs etc.  However many institutions have rules against complete buyouts.  This is certainly true at ETH for example.  Also students, who in the UK increasingly want to dictate what they are paying for, do not take kindly to being told the lecture course by famous Professor X will instead be taught by Igor, the guy who cleans the gunk out of the Chicken Soup machine.
I have worked at both the top and the bottom of the UK market.  In both places all lecturers taught unless lots of money, which is increasingly rare.  In one place I had 25 contact hours a week, plus marking etc. (that's a hell of a lot) and was STILL expected to be rated on my research.  Do that 9-5 I dare you.
I think the basic point here is that the European system is very different from the US one, if indeed most scientists do not teach in the US.

I sometimes think Kafka was a total optimist

So yesterday was a crisis.  Or rather yesterday the crisis I have been in since February came to the surface. I am an unusual psych patient.  Well I am an internet horse for a start. But beyond that...
I have spent my entire life subsuming emotion.  I operate two parallel processing systems, one emotional and one rational.  the rational one floats on the surface and that is the one you talk to.  i say rational not logical because Spock, as I call him, does get passionate about some things, and stubborn.  But in a reasoned, strategic way.  You come to me with a crisis and Spock will sort it out.  No blame, no emotion, just sort.
The emotional person, Emo, is doing all the feeling but like any juvenile drooling idiot is not allowed near the controls unless Spock is incapacitated.  Emo is like Dana's personality after possession.  There is no Emo, only Spock.
But Emo has been in trouble for a long time.  Spock doesn't enjoy things, that's not his role.  Emo hasn't enjoyed much of anything since 1980.  At the moment Emo is  covered in napalm and burning.
Yesterday Emo came through a lot.
Of course Spock comes to the surface at times when i interact with people.  When the police came to my house for safeguarding Spock offered them a cup of tea because that's what you do to guests.  The paramedic and I chatted on the way to A and E (no way could I drive) because that's what you do. (incidentally Suffolk police and paramedics v rugged.  Recommend).  So for long periods I appeared normal.If that's a word.
And the assessment team...they asked questions, so Spock answered.  Lucidly.  And all the time i was burning, burning.
I am burning still.
Because of course politics got in the way.
After yesterdays meeting I walked out and sat on a bench outside for 2 hrs.  I called PALS who were livid but powerless.  Eventually I called MrsInky, who was kind.  She rang off, called my GP to raise the alarm, rang back, talked to me to find out where I was.  I drove home at 20mph curb hugging, washed up, made a cup of tea and ran out of distraction.
I have been distracting myself since February.  When I ring out of hours line they tell me to distract myself.  The only treatment I have is distraction and sleeping pills.
Gentle reader how long could you distract yourself, so that you never have time just to sit.  Are never alone with your thoughts?  I have been doing it since February.
Spock is exhausted.  He will respond to provocation but it has to be quite strong.  Beyond that he is done. Hawkeye in the flu epidemic style done.
So yesterday I get taken to A and E by a rugged paramedic.  And they give me some tea, and put me in a waiting room, explaining they need to get a crisis team, but ask if I need help pro tem.  So I sit and origam for a while.  Then they come back and say someone from the IDT needs to come up for the assessment.  I say unless the IDT agree that Dr Snidearse is not in the loop I do not want them there, and pass that on to save a journey.
So when the assessment happens Clarice is there, I say to him "Snidearse is out of loop?"
"I cannot give that undertaking"
"Well then I want you to leave.  And tell Snideearse personally that I withdraw all permission for her to treat me."
This last because then I know she knows, for later unethical behaviour proceedings.
So Clarice leaves.  I give my version of events to the crisis team.  Or Spock does.
And then the problem.  Because I am under the 'care' of the IDT they have to be involved in formulating a plan.  They knock off at 5. So the conflab cannot happen until today.  They weren't going to admit me, which would have been my favoured option, that and some horse sedatives.  They couldn't medicate me.  They had nothing else and couldn't do a care plan without the IDT because politics.
It isn't like the IDT were treating me anyway.  Clarice is a social worker and is just about organising life changes. If my head doesn't change I have no life to change.  I have no psych intervention (I know they are a placebo but even homoeopathy would be welcome at this point.  Hell I am in the gym.  I will wait till some sane people are swimming, hit the pool with a bible then drink some) I have no meds beyond sleeping pills. And Smirnoff.
Everything seems predicated on the idea things will get better.  they won't.  Everything from here is worse.

De profundissimiss

Yesterday I was so low that I had to leave the gym in case someone who knew me saw me and wanted to talk. I couldn't go to normal shop for the same reason.  Fridays crisis resulted in an appointment today which I have been hanging on to like a talisman. Remember the IDT gave both PALS and the complaints department assurances that Dr snidearse  would not be involved in my care?
So I go in this morning and the first thing they say is that she will be. Directly the opposite of what they told PALS etc.
So I walked out. Am on a bench outside. Have nowhere else to go. Have called PALS but what good that will do I know not.

you gotta know when to hold em,

I am surprised to be where I am today.
Last night I engineered mrsinky and Foal to go out so that i could be alone.  I have been catastrophically, almost catatonically depressed and only functioning on a very basic level.  So I was expecting a downturn and then...well I have my hospital bag packed.  Or I have my pills.  Either way I expected to be somewhere else.
When it cae down to it I didnt swing down that hard.  it was rough but not that rough.
Today, of course, is different.
Today I can feel the black lurking in the wings.  I am feeling week, and tearful.  I dont want to go outside.  I dont want to leave the room.

The only way to win is cheat And lay it down before I'm beat And to another give my seat

So today
Today
So down. Typing through tears. Every time i stop i weep. Keep tweeting and doing jkbs. And stuff.
Packed a small bag in case ii need to go to hospital. Put it in car.
Rang idt. Duty worker mouthed platitudes at me. Appointment monday. But it will not help. Nothing does.
Doctor gave me zopiclone.
Want it to end

Time keeps moving on, friends they turn away

Its been a while and there is a reason.  I am functioning in a barely functioning way at the moment.
You may remember I talked about a split in my brain, where Spock is the unemotional problem solver and Emo does the emotional responses.
This developed way before I was officially a scientist but it certainly helps.  Working in science the temptation to run off with the first positive data going yippeee I've found Inky's law is very strong, and very human.  In fact in my field (Microfluidics) a very large number of papers consist of this behaviour which is why I get a bad rep at conference for pointing this out.  Stepping back, turning off the joy and going yebbut do this yebbut do that is  vital for real  science.
Spock has been far more in charge than normal.  I have been getting up, dropping Foal off, going to sofa, carefully doing nothing, then getting foal and doing bedtime stuff.  Nothing else.  Ive had the odd evening out at the cinema or playing backgammon but....hard to explain.  Cinema i do it, but I am alone and when the movie ends I drop like a stone.  start crying and cant stop.  All the films have family as a core and I have lost mine.  Even horror films the dad saves the little girl.  It is almost unbearable.
With backgammon, or grindr dates, or whatever while i am there i am sociable (as much as i can fake it) and turned on but when I leave I turn off.  Spock again.  things to do.
I cannot motivate myself to work, or write, or do models or anything much.  I have no spare motivation.  All I can see in the future is black.
The shrink battle is better.  Remember the practice manager over 4 weeks was saying that Dr Snidearse could not be excluded from my case because admin.  I got in touch with PALS, and the formal complaints people and they both got the IDT to admit this was bollocks so now have assurance that this will happen.  But lets look at the timeline:
Complaint (9th june) despite complaints procedure demand written complaint (18th june)
Date on complaints committee document as start of complaint 2nd July.
I rang the complaints staff and said why does it take nearly a month for a complaint to reach you?  they said dunno.  they agreed with me that there was no barrier to Snidearsectomy.  Have added addendum to complaint saying why not process verbal complaint and why does it take you a month?
Another thing is the physio.  Am in a shoulder class which started yesterday.  Walk in and its warmup time.  they just have exercise bikes.  I cannot use these because the weight of my legs tend to dislocate my hips.  must remember to try and deal with that. The woman checking people in was a total cow.  when I said can I have an alternated warmup she said "if you are too ill to get on a bie you shouldd not be here".  Would not listen to me that alternate equipment would work.  In the end i got a treadmill (something else i cant use because it wears my hips out) and put it up to full incline to mimic a x trainer.  and got shouted at for difficulty.  No, luv, if its flat I cannot do it.
Several exercises were dangerous for me.  One involved step up, raise arm, step back.  Now stepping back is dangerous because i have bad proprioception.  I have to look.  As I was explaining this during demo i raise my arms and my two lowest ribs sublux outwards, hitting the physio in the wrist.
Now this physio has heard of eds, but he (this isn't warmup bitch) really wasnt the best communicator.  Mind you with his looks he doesn't have to be. He did adapt some exercises.  He had to.  another one involved balancing on a wobble board and throwing a ball.  Told him flat out that would put me in a and e.  He did adapt it.
But his smug assurance that he knew about eds....I doubt it.  Really I do.
AAnyhoo, on and on.

Too late to fix another drink, the lights are going out

So it has been a ridiculously awful few days. Ihave been feeling vile. Sunshine always makes me feel ill in a sort of flulike way and this has been bad. But on top of this my mood has been grim.
The old blackness returned on Thursday after a meeting with the Central IDT, my MH team, where they again refused to exckude Dr Snidearse from my case. This now makes 4 weeks of no support because I cannot discuss things with them if i cannot trust them, and i cannit trust them if she us involved.
That led to a grim night. Then a grim day.
Then Friday night I Was due out. Mrsinky rang and asked if I minded if she and Foal stayed at her boyfriends. Answer yes I minded. But I said ask Foal. And apparently foal said yes.
I kept myself busy as long as I could. Watched Terminator Genisys (do not bother) and then went home.
Alone.
I started crying as I left the cinema. I didnt stop.
They were off being a family. I was completely useless, replaced, rejected.
I have a box of trazodone at home. 2pills of that made me feel like death. I was willing to bet the box would do the trick.
Dr snidearse has left me with no support, no prn meds, nothing.
I rang the emergency line for MH patients and talked to a nurse there. She tried, bless her. She obviously isnt used to dealing with people like me. Kept saying we have a duty to care for ourselves and being stumped when I asked why.
But i talked to her for a few hours. Then a choice of a and e or 2 codeine and a pint of vodka. Guess.
Next day was Foals school fete. Got through it, then collapsed all pm. Then we did film n mezze. Hobbit on sky.
I really really want to die. Really.

I have to turn away until....things subside

Anyway back to where I was before twitter intervened.
predictable slump I think.
Remember I have no treatment regime and a home life that is utterly stressful.  Yesterday was a day signifying no motion at all on the treatment/diagnosis front.  Still the same bureaucratic bollocks no movement.  Home is wors, not because of anything new but because it is failing to go right.
Pain is bad (not quite so bad right now but thats the tail end of last nights gin n codeine).
All this has left me...well Spock is still carrying on organising.  but Emo is properly depressed.
I havent felt the need to masturbate in about a week.  No interest in sex at all.  No interest in going out.  No interest, in short, in anything.
Overwhelming suicidal thoughts.  Have identified the trazodone on my shelf as the best means available.
I do not want this life.

I see the (well lets face it, everything) go by, dressed in their summer clothes

OK so the content of this one has changed in the last 10 minutes due to a frankly bizarre exchange on Twitter.
First you need to understand my relationship with Twitter is rather like Waldorf and Stadtlers relationship with the muppets.  I sit in my balcony and make smartalec remarks.  Because.  Sometimes I drop the odd thing in there to indicate my mood.  But being me I am not going to come out and say it.
So this morning I put up a post saying this:

Very very very dark grey

— Inky Thehorse (@inky_r) July 3, 2015

and this prompted a question from an entity known as Jenny G (@IwontEverWakeUp) as to if I was a bot.
So I said:

@IwontEverWakeUp problem: were I a bot would be programmed to respond no to are you a bot. So how can you tell? Take that turing.

— Inky Thehorse (@inky_r) July 3, 2015

and then it went downhill.  Jenny demanded to know why I had no avatar.  Not relevant to bothood if you ask me as all the bots I have seen have avatars..

@IwontEverWakeUp 1) clear batman reference. 2) what would you like me to replace the icon with? I do not put pictures of self on line...

— Inky Thehorse (@inky_r) July 3, 2015

@IwontEverWakeUp why would I make myself identifiable so readily? what would I gain from sharing that information? I maintain a..

— Inky Thehorse (@inky_r) July 3, 2015

@IwontEverWakeUp ...facebook account simply to take pictures and references to me down from facebook. Have never had author photo etc. etc.

— Inky Thehorse (@inky_r) July 3, 2015

@IwontEverWakeUp but to get back to this...what is more important, whether I am a bot or your insane desire to see my face? not worth it btw

— Inky Thehorse (@inky_r) July 3, 2015

@IwontEverWakeUp then what is the problem?

— Inky Thehorse (@inky_r) July 3, 2015

@IwontEverWakeUp oh deary me

— Inky Thehorse (@inky_r) July 3, 2015

Yep. Assume Jenny was a bot trying to get me to add a photo for skynet reasons. have reported her https://t.co/emSnQxbyRU

— Inky Thehorse (@inky_r) July 3, 2015

hoping the embed thing works....

Anyway a bit nonplussed.  easy explanation is that Jenny was a bot working for skynets facial recognition software.

but this is not the first time people have asked for an avatar picture, or for a picture of my face.  Why is this?  I really struggle.  I mean we all know that  he pictures on avatars are mainly not of the people involved, or are idealised a tad.  they give, in short, no useful information.  I had assumed the avatar was there to allow illiterate people to identify the tweeter, but as the tweets i give are mainly text that wouldnt help.
In short why do people want pictures there?  What does it add?  I for one would vote to have the avatars removed from twitter completely as the useless spam they are.

my cheesecake brings all the boys to the yard

OK so i like Baked Cheesecakes.  Particularly the alsatian variants.  this one is one of my own invention but based on a badly remembered Glyn Christian recipe.  You could give it a traditional biscuit base but frankly I am not that keen and this is nicer I think.

Oven to 180c

Base:
8oz SR flour
6oz butter
3oz caster sugar
2oz demerara sugar

Put flour and caster sugar into bowl, rub in softened butter.  mixture should start to clump.  if not add a little more butter. stir in the demarara then press into a lined loose bottom 8 in flan tin.  Cook until the edges brown, then drop liquid (water, wine, whatever...) in random spots on surface- this binds some areas together into biscuits not crumb.  nicer texture.  Cook again till top goldens.

Filling:
2 egg yolks
10oz pot mascarpone
10 oz pot ricotta
4oz caster sugar
4 lemons
4oz sultanas
1 1/2 oz semolina
Gin.

warm a cup of gin then pop sultanas in to soak.
In a large bowl whisk egg yolks to add a little air, then mix in caster sugar.  keep whisking until the egg yolks double in volume.  add the zests of the lemons, finely grated, then beat in the mascarpone and ricotta.  Add the juice of the lemons.  adjust sweetness to taste.  finally add the semolina.  Drain the sultanas retaining gin for later.  add sultanas.  Pour mixture into tin.
Cook in oven.  If you choose you can cast sugar over it beforehand.  you are aiming for 2 things, a nice consistent golden colour, and to pass the wobble test- wobble the pan- the middle shoulld have a similar mode of vibration to the edge.
once cooked take it out and allow to cool, then chiill.

Sauce: (not pictured)
in a pan combine 3 oz blackcurrants, 4oz gooseberries, the gin and 3  oz sugar.  boil till it becomes a sauce.

this is a very rich cheescake but is nice

Right round baby right round

So today has been mildly hellish.
I am in high levels of pain and asthenia.  I forced myself to do my gym workout but had to be very careful of form. Slightest deviation from perfect form resulted in massive pain.  I got some endorphin help from it but not much.
After that was the appointment with myself, Clarice and Clarices manager (Jack, I suppose) to discuss ongoing issues like are they going to offer me any treatment, or a firm diagnosis, or in fact anything.  Recall I was referred to the MH team BEFORE my life fell apart, so just dealing with the adjustment disorder is not dealing with the issue.
You recall also that due to her being an unethical untrustworthy snidearse I sent a letter some weeks ago refusing my psych permission to treat.  This means I do not want her having access to my notes.
Therein lies the rub.  The one thing they keep saying is the cannot guarantee that the Psych will not have access as they work as a team.  I point out this is a gross breach of confidentiality and ethics and means that I cannot access their service and am left totally without care.  They say well thats the system. I point out this is an ethical breach, a breach of their statutory duty, a  breach of good practice and contrary to recent high court rulings over patient autonomy.  They say, well she is a good doctor.   I point out she may be good but she is unethical and IS NOT TREATING ME and so showing her my notes is a gross breach of confidentiality.  they say but we work as a team...and round we go.
It has been 4 weeks or more since I had someone to talk to about any aspect of my life.  I have no social support network IRL.  No one to interpret the actions of people for me.  I have no treatment.  I am not sleeping well at all, late sleeping, early waking.  No pills, Well I have some opiates but having weaned self off those not keen on relying again.  Too much alcohol is too much.
A lot of the conversation today kept veering towards them saying they wanted to discharge me.  I pointed out this was a gross dereliction of a duty of care.
They are, for the second time, going away to consult and getting back to me in a couple of weeks.  meanwhile no treatment.  I have their numbers n case I need them...they do not realise the barrier here.  I would literally rather die than be forced to share confidences in these circumstances.
There are areas they are looking into motion in- pathways to firm diagnosis of aspergers for example.  but it all comes back down to the same thing- they cannot ask Dr Snidearse to leave the room when discussing me.  Why is beyond me, but they feel unable to do this.
What do I want?  well vengeance would be nice.  But two things- I want some way out of the hell I am in short term.  I also want some reason to hope that life can be better long term.  that there is some way for an aspie to be happy.  Because I am not, and have not been for a very long time.  i don't want to continue like this for another 35 years.  Just thanks but no thanks.


UPDATE
emailed the relevant PALS.  they say they are going to enquire as to why exactly my suggestions were not put into place immediately.  watch this space

Take these broken wings

So today being intensive foal day I had a light schedule. Was going to do some work then poollounging.
Eds heard me. Eds laughed.
My scapulais winged on the right not posiyive whybut think its the scapulo thoracic area.huge pain. Cant hold stuff. Other pain out in sympathy