I went back to the house last night. I took some flowers, which the husband appreciated. I tried to be less tentative with hugs and so forth and I deliberately steered away from anything controversial. I think husband did as well.

I could tell that he was anxious; his words were more muddled than usual. But we both kept it as calm as we could.

I went and got the Chinese takeaway and we watched trash telly, followed by a film (“Under Paris” – sharks terrorising the 2024 Olympics – very good special effects and excellent dubbing in most cases).

I had hot flushes all night. Knowing that these are my body’s way of telling me that I’m anxious is useful as it keeps me honest with myself; however they did keep me from getting straight off to sleep as I was just too hot then too cold.

I know that the husband got up about 4am: his sleep is absolutely shattered at the moment.

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I woke about half-seven, and dozed for another hour and then procrastinated getting up until half-nine.

Husband was sat in the kitchen drinking coffee when I went out; the dog was pleased to see me. Husband and I hugged. Then we went into the garden and nattered about nothing much.

He said that there was stuff he needed to talk about, but doesn’t want to overwhelm me – I appreciate the notice and consideration. I suggested that we go out somewhere and have some breakfast, then find somewhere quiet where we can talk.

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After lunch we went for a coffee. The original place we wanted to go was closed, so we went to a different cafe. For me that might have been a mistake, since there was a lot of background noise of traffic, and the table next to us was occupied by one noisy group after the other. I took some migraine pills as I could feel a headache coming on, and sometimes I can head them off with medication if I catch them at the right time.

My husband talked a lot. There was some complaining about being controlled as to when he can talk to me. I restated that the check list of preconditions was mine to satisfy provided he gave me some notice that he wanted to talk. He said that giving notice hasn’t always worked in the past (I think it mostly has, but perhaps not always had).

We both expressed our anxiety, but also or gratitude for a peaceful evening the night before.

He reflected that, to him, secrets were poison. I wondered whether he felt that I was keeping secrets. I am being cautious of what I share: I daren’t risk saying half of what floats into my mind – half the time it just floats out the other side. He has been greatly upset by my crazy mind and what passes through it.

He is also trying to be careful not to overwhelm me: I think we have both had enough of the drama of ambulances and hospitals for now.

I have also had meltdowns in the last year when my husband has shared his mind with me. He says that I’d never had a proper meltdown before this last year; that is true really – I’ve thrown tantrums, which are adult meltdowns in my mind. I said that I have shutdowns, and very often I cannot stop them happening once they begin.

The question of autism is a little sore between us; I’d thought that he had rejected the idea. He says not, but that it doesn’t explain everything, also many things have only become worse in the last year, which is true – they have become worse, but they’ve always been a problem (eg meltdowns, sound sensitivity), however shutdowns are largely involuntary, although some are behavioural – some I know are a stubborn reaction to whatever is being said rather than emotional overwhelm.

What has always been true is the difficulty processing what my husband has said quickly enough to respond before he’s moved onto the next thing. If I get far behind in my processing, I will shutdown. He said that he was the most emotionally intelligent person he knows, so perhaps the problem is a relative one: he can rapidly verbalise feelings and responses, whereas I cannot and the contrast is the issue. Interesting idea that I feel bad a lot of merit to it.

I can attribute some of my migraines to emotional stress and sensory problems, however my mum also had crippling migraines. There are two possible explanations … or maybe just one: I have inherited a tendency to develop migraines, which emotional or sensory overload might trigger.

He asks that I remain open to other ideas and explanations.

We talked for about two hours, which really seems to be my upper limit. My batteries are now flat.

I dropped him at the house and returned to the peace of the flat, feeling good, but exhausted!