Friday, November 02, 2012

Pavement terrors.

I can see now why people get scared to go out, and used to being in their own home. Yesterday we went to the Brockwell Park fireworks. (It was awesome - I love fireworks. And we had donuts - I LOVE donuts, the ring ones with just sugar on that you only get at fairgrounds... hmmm).

I have been going to the grocery shop every now and then, or to the doctors surgery. But this was altogether busier and darker and much more scary.

Children are terrifying! They're so unpredictable and change direction at the drop of a hat. My legs aren't working properly at the moment and it feels like I'm wading through treacle just to walk, I'm so exhausted. Changing direction is something I need to work up to, and stopping and starting. So walking down a packed pavement suddenly becomes a high alert situation.

It's frustrating being overtaken by someone two foot tall. I kept causing blockages in the packs of people trying to get home, and that only added to the stress.

And it made me envious of all the energy everyone else had. People were out jogging, gah - when will I be able to jog again?

In fact it has spurred me on to get better, but it made me think about how vulnerable I felt. And all the other people that must feel just as vulnerable. I will look out for slow moving people in future - you just can't tell what's under their mystery hat, causing them to move carefully and slowly.









Nothing.

It's been easy to write so far. I've had things I want to write about, but I knew this would happen.

When I'm feeling down I generally just go into hibernation until its over. Then write about it briefly, no one wants to read about being down. Least of all me. There's nothing to write when you're down.

But, in thinking this in the early hours of the morning (when I write in my head for later), I realised there was in fact a point to writing down that I had nothing to write down. Firstly to log it and remain true to why I am doing this. And secondly to look at it objectively.

Then I had something to write about, and immediately I feel better.

Why am I down? It just doesn't make sense. But then when I think about it there are reasons: I feel exhausted all the time and it's frustrating. I feel guilty and dependent for everything that everyone's doing for me. I'm covered in weird spots, as if I don't look like a freak enough already. I'm bloated and uncomfortable. And I feel guilty for feeling down.

Which leads me on to why I'm still really lucky. Nothing has changed, I just had a bad day. Not even day, couple of hours. To be expected. And just like that, I've typed my way out of it.

Feel better now.