The 14th of May. It's over now. Well it will be soon, once the news stop reporting it. I am sad that he has gone, for those who loved him and will miss him every day for the rest of their lives. But a small part of me is somewhat thankful that I won't be having the word "terminal" rammed down my throat by every media outlet in existence. There are a lot of terminally ill young people still out there and I don't know about them, but just seeing his face all the time is like someone sitting on my shoulder saying "You're going to die pretty soon too, and guess what? No one will care nearly as much as this, and you'll be forgotten like a passing breeze". It feels like there's no point in me even trying to raise awareness of my own condition, of all the shit you go can go through when the "cure" goes wrong. When what saved you will kill you. Because it'll just be forever compared to what he did. So why bother?

I left Twitter and Facebook and the rest of the media to carry on, and I sat in Bad Apple and let James paint my hair all different colours before Katy Perry. I met Rachel at the LG about twenty past eight, and we got drinks and went to find our seats which were actually really good! She played the oldies and the goodies and I did a lot of dancing in my seat. Roar and Teenage Dream were probably my favourites. Go Katycats!

The 15th of May.

You would think I'd have a lie-in after the late night I had, but no, I was up at eight. A dress that I ordered from G-Star came yesterday and was too big, so I wanted to exchange it for a small before we go away. The shop in the Bullring is actually completely inaccessible to disabled women - the ladies' clothes are up a lot of stairs and they have no lift, which gives the impression that I am not the sort of person they want wearing their clothes. The sales girl had to go and find me the right size, and I just had to sit and wait. So that made me feel good about myself.

We needed to do that early because Oscar had to be at the vet at ten past eleven, and Danny was coming to train me at one. We did a mini circuit of kettlebell squats, swings, snatches and russian twists. I was knackered by the end. Then I had a phonecall at half two with a chap called Dan at the Sutton Observer just to keep him up to date with life. I was sorry I hadn't much to tell him.

When we hung up, I watched Hannibal and last night's Masterchef with Mommy, then I got out my clothes for the week.

I can't wait to get away. Far away from all of this.