A bit of a rant

More ranting about how crap my life is. Feel free to skip it.

For the past week, one of my friends has been AWOL. Heard from him the evening before we were meant to meet up, then nothing. He never showed up to meeting me, he didn't answer his phone, he wasn't on MSN, he wasn't on Twitter or Facebook, he wasn't responding to texts or emails. Just gone. Very unlike him. And I'm a paranoid person. One of my biggest fears is that a friend will die, and I'll never know because no one will think to tell me. So that's been preying on my mind. I messaged a couple of mutual friends we have, and one got back to me saying she hadn't heard from him either, which didn't help. I was going to look up his parents in the phone book and try calling them, but then he got back to me this morning. When I logged on to MSN this morning he'd left me an online message. He's ill and depressed, but he's alive. So I feel a little better.

Still feel crappy though. BIG BIG BIG family issues, and at the moment there is nothing I can do about it. My mum is having trouble dealing with my teenage sister, and it's causing all kinds of chaos. I've offered to have her live with me, but two hundred miles is too far away. So I made the decision last week to move back to Basingstoke. I hate Basingstoke, but I don't have a lot up here in the Midlands for me anymore. Two friends - one of whom works a lot and has just moved in with her boyfriend. I'll see her as much as I see her now, just with a bit more planning. The other has parents a couple of towns over from Basingstoke, so I'd still see him when he visits. There are a lot of benefits to moving back down south. I'd be closer to my sisters, and my step-brothers and their kids. I'd get to see all my little cousins and neices and nephews grow up. If I get stir-crazy or lonely there are lots of family friends in the town who'd love to have me over for a cup of tea. Generally the south is more expensive, but the weekly bus ticket in Basingstoke is about £6 cheaper, so I could afford to get out and about, and there are lots of societies and clubs I'd like to join. And, most importantly, I'd be able to help mum out with Michaela. If nothing else, I'd be somewhere for Michaela to go when things get too much.

The quickest move is to go private, but to do that I'd need about £800 for a deposit and first month's rent, and I can't afford that at the moment. So I've applied to the Council/Housing Association's Housing Register. I have connections in the area, and my Dr is writing a letter to prove that it'd be good for my depression. So I won't be at the bottom of their list, but it'll still take a while.

Yesterday the situation down there blew up a little bit. I need to get down there as soon as I can, and until I do there's nothing I can do to help the situation, which is killing me. I'm helpless up here. It's aggravating my depression, and I'm currently festering in a pit of episodey-ness, with no outlet.

I've been cooking. I have a peanut butter pie setting in the freezer, and garlic-ginger chicken marinating in the fridge, but once again I have no one to share my delicious goods with, with is depressing.

And I'm tired. Been sleeping odd hours, and I'm tired. My depression makes me tired, my anti-depressants make me tired, my current situation is making me tired, and not sleeping properly is making me tired. I'm fucking tired! I so desperately want to go lie down and sleep for months.