It’s mostly in my hands and feet, though sometimes it invades my whole body. It’s like a fizzing, as if under my skin is a kind of bubbling effervescence that will not cease. He calls it pins and needles. But it isn’t really like that, this is more like the sensation you get with cramp. No this is a tingling, an alive feeling that is too much. As I said, unceasing. He googled it and came into to say goodnight with that familiar worried look on his face and quoted it as symptomatic of horrors like MS. This morning he looked calmer. I think it is linked to anxiety, he said. It makes sense. Though why I would have the symptoms while I sleep, god knows.

I’ve always worried. And I know that I worry more now than ever. Life frightens me, it is true, though I can see I have no real reason for the fear. It is existential, beyond me, beyond the material. It is the chaos of not knowing, of feeling vulnerable, of being at the mercy of things I do not understand. And there is so much I do not understand. I try to just love, I do, but my mind takes over, fretting, poking, unsettling, haranguing and bullying. I try to introduce a more sensible voice, particularly when I walk. All is well, this is what has been decided, look how beloved I am, I’m doing the best I can, this is my life and I live it as openly as I can. On and on, I talk to myself, intoning internally with my steps. It helps a little but the nagging mind soon takes over. I have no template for self-acceptance, you see, I cannot see, feel, experience my worthiness.

I haven’t seen the two Chinese families who live round the corner of our block for a while now. One has removed their entire ‘garden’ of plants. I use the term garden loosely as it mostly comprised a series of plastic containers, including a washing-up bowl, in which they were growing flowers and vegetables. (The blue washing-up bowl had huge onion tops sprouting from it). Do you think they’ve left? I asked him this morning as we made our way to the car to do our first shop of the week. No, he said, see there is still some of their things in the window. And there were, including an empty plant pot and some flower food and the wrapping paper that they have stuck to one of the windows in lieu of a curtain is also still there. I think of them and wonder if they have family members in fear of catching the virus or who have contracted it. But then I feel foolish, China is so huge and the death toll, though terrible for those concerned is minor by comparison.

I avoided the wind mostly, walking along side roads and missing out the prom. The World at One reported from here yesterday. 70 mile an hour winds the reporter said. Gosh. It is wild but alive, I think.

Work now. I must reconnect. I’ve had a coffee. Now for tea.