Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows

I bought JK Rowling's final installment of the Harry Potter series so I could find out how the story ends, having seen the Half Blood Prince at the cinema. I started reading it when I got to my parents.

Flip, the nightmares. Oh marenights as my son calls them.

The first night I felt squashed by some invisible pressure. I'd get these alot alot alot in my teens and twenties, often accompanied by a full bodied paralysis but luckily it didn't get that bad.

The second night there was a bright flourescent green amoeba like thing descending from the ceiling, breathing in and out as it descended. Fortunately the act of jumping out of bed to protect my son bought me to full consciousness and awareness that this was just my imagination.

The third night metal spikes came out of the wall by my bed. Fear gripped me and again, the act of sitting up to protect my son changed these spikes to long silvery light beams that I could swish with my hands (not unlike those lamp things you could buy in the 80's, don't recall what they were called)

The fourth night they were dark clouds, not unlike death eaters, swooping in from the ceiling again and once more, the leap to my son's bed beside me, made the cloud disappear and my breathing regulate itself in long large bursts.

I finished the book after that.

Moving house, they say, is one of the most stressful experiences for people and my mother was not exempt. Tension permeated the walls. I won't go into details but suffice to say I had my 'patronus' out at all times.

I limped back to London exhausted, not least because emotionally it was hard to say goodbye to so much of my stuff.

Came home to a letter from the housing association: "Notice requiring Possession".

I have not dealt with this. I do not know how I will deal with this. I would scream but don't have the energy to scream. I meander through my days with an 'I don't give a fuck anymore' attitude. This is not good. My angel cards tell me to look after myself. Easier said than done.