11.11.14 (Day 324)
11.42
Prudence, due diligence, caution...
Words I should pay more heed. But I don't. I can't stop myself. So yesterday someone else had to. Yet another person saved my life. They stopped me taking the plunge.
I'd been to see my doctor - who is a credit to his profession - and gained a diagnosis of a bad mouth. Hatred, vitriol, controversial opinions, unwanted advice, expletives... They all come of there. So I merely learned what I already knew. And that my shaving cut has become infected, so I'm on antibiotics to go with the cocktail of drugs I already take. It's not infectious. Although apparently I am.
And I've been referred to a shrink: let's see if this one can work out what's going on under my lid. I can't, so I doubt it. I'm guessing I'll be patronised and have to fill out a load of forms to be categorised. I belong on a shelf of my own.
So after seeing the doctor, I went to the nearest chemist to collect my drugs: the chemist was closed. I felt like some time to myself and in finding some personal space I was reminded that my own company is often the worst. I want to be on my own but I don't. I want to be left alone but I'm not. If there are people around, I can't ignore them; if there is no-one, I long for contact. But I pose no threat to others nor myself. If I did, I might be better off: either sorted out or dead.
I needed a drink, so I sought solace with my local newsagent (the one I stole from and who is now a very good friend). He could see that I was troubled but the environment wasn't conducive to conversation. So he gave me a pen and paper and this is what I wrote:
_______
10.11.14
12.42
You may not kiss the wife. Although she's still all over you. And your mouth. It's not infectious but you are. So says my head. But my heart always wins.
I'm sitting on my own. I'm where I often long to be: alone and surrounded by nothing other than self-created personal space. The invaders will come though.
I'm gathering my thoughts. I have few belongings right now, other than the clothes I wear and the pen and paper I was just given and which I'm using to write this.
There's a wall behind me and on the other side are the railway tracks. I'm very tempted to play with the trains today. But a thought occurs which has stopped me in my tracks, rather than throwing myself on them: those I'd leave behind with just a note on this piece of paper I'm writing on. All that I have to kill now then is time.
I'm on my bench. The bench where I spent so much time when I was properly on the road. The bench where I met one of my ex-girlfriends. The bench which was host to the last reunion of The Pink Hearts. The bench where I sit and write what will not be my last note, on the paper given to me by one of many people I'm able to write about and all of whom have just saved my life.
_______
So I came back. I spoke. I poured my heart out. I cried. I spoke to The Wife: the one of a few who regard me as every schoolgirl's fantasy and every dad's nightmare. I spoke to my brothers, sisters and friends. I realised that I would be missed if I'd not come back and that I mustn't leave. Not this time.
My little fold-up sister has been a great little prop. She's foldable but when she's unfolded, she props me up. Like others, she reminds me why I do all that I do; why I'm me and the one that she and others will always turn to. She's just like me. Just like me, she has a blog. And she mentions me:
_______
"So I just wanted to ask how is it possible for a sixteen year old like me to be accepted by society? The answer I have a personal drive and a dream on which I use to help me through my daily life but like everyone else my life is not perfect. Its so far from it that its more believable to say ET and the Easter bunny are brothers.
"However I do have a pretty good life in comparison to those of some people I know and that’s because I am so lucky to have such a huge amount of people that love and care for me.
"There is one I specifically want to draw your attention to…
"Steve, the mentor, metaphorical brother and man I turn to in times of trouble. I have learnt so so much from him that I have to thank him as he is the person who has made me who I am today.
"Yes I know you might think I should be saying this about my mum and dad but I feel that is their duty as parents to care and protect me. Of course I am forever in their debt for such an amazing upbringing but seriously look at Steve’s blog and you will understand all of what I say here is true.
"Till next time"
Another member of the teenage fan club speaks up for me? A friend; a sister; a peer? A fantasy? Apparently another one who credits me with being their maker. So my existence is worthwhile to some. Apparently. I've done a lot wrong but it's always nice to be recognised for what was done right. And I've done nothing other than be there and be myself.
As was the case with the others, some of whom I became a fantasy to. And some of those made up stories which got me into trouble. But still I soldier on, not giving up on my kids.
And I'm still learning the meanings of prudent, diligent and caution. But those are the property of the wind that I cast them to, which is why I'm still seeing The Wife, albeit less often.
Many reasons to keep going and live.
11.42
Prudence, due diligence, caution...
Words I should pay more heed. But I don't. I can't stop myself. So yesterday someone else had to. Yet another person saved my life. They stopped me taking the plunge.
I'd been to see my doctor - who is a credit to his profession - and gained a diagnosis of a bad mouth. Hatred, vitriol, controversial opinions, unwanted advice, expletives... They all come of there. So I merely learned what I already knew. And that my shaving cut has become infected, so I'm on antibiotics to go with the cocktail of drugs I already take. It's not infectious. Although apparently I am.
And I've been referred to a shrink: let's see if this one can work out what's going on under my lid. I can't, so I doubt it. I'm guessing I'll be patronised and have to fill out a load of forms to be categorised. I belong on a shelf of my own.
So after seeing the doctor, I went to the nearest chemist to collect my drugs: the chemist was closed. I felt like some time to myself and in finding some personal space I was reminded that my own company is often the worst. I want to be on my own but I don't. I want to be left alone but I'm not. If there are people around, I can't ignore them; if there is no-one, I long for contact. But I pose no threat to others nor myself. If I did, I might be better off: either sorted out or dead.
I needed a drink, so I sought solace with my local newsagent (the one I stole from and who is now a very good friend). He could see that I was troubled but the environment wasn't conducive to conversation. So he gave me a pen and paper and this is what I wrote:
_______
10.11.14
12.42
You may not kiss the wife. Although she's still all over you. And your mouth. It's not infectious but you are. So says my head. But my heart always wins.
I'm sitting on my own. I'm where I often long to be: alone and surrounded by nothing other than self-created personal space. The invaders will come though.
I'm gathering my thoughts. I have few belongings right now, other than the clothes I wear and the pen and paper I was just given and which I'm using to write this.
There's a wall behind me and on the other side are the railway tracks. I'm very tempted to play with the trains today. But a thought occurs which has stopped me in my tracks, rather than throwing myself on them: those I'd leave behind with just a note on this piece of paper I'm writing on. All that I have to kill now then is time.
I'm on my bench. The bench where I spent so much time when I was properly on the road. The bench where I met one of my ex-girlfriends. The bench which was host to the last reunion of The Pink Hearts. The bench where I sit and write what will not be my last note, on the paper given to me by one of many people I'm able to write about and all of whom have just saved my life.
_______
So I came back. I spoke. I poured my heart out. I cried. I spoke to The Wife: the one of a few who regard me as every schoolgirl's fantasy and every dad's nightmare. I spoke to my brothers, sisters and friends. I realised that I would be missed if I'd not come back and that I mustn't leave. Not this time.
My little fold-up sister has been a great little prop. She's foldable but when she's unfolded, she props me up. Like others, she reminds me why I do all that I do; why I'm me and the one that she and others will always turn to. She's just like me. Just like me, she has a blog. And she mentions me:
_______
"So I just wanted to ask how is it possible for a sixteen year old like me to be accepted by society? The answer I have a personal drive and a dream on which I use to help me through my daily life but like everyone else my life is not perfect. Its so far from it that its more believable to say ET and the Easter bunny are brothers.
"However I do have a pretty good life in comparison to those of some people I know and that’s because I am so lucky to have such a huge amount of people that love and care for me.
"There is one I specifically want to draw your attention to…
"Steve, the mentor, metaphorical brother and man I turn to in times of trouble. I have learnt so so much from him that I have to thank him as he is the person who has made me who I am today.
"Yes I know you might think I should be saying this about my mum and dad but I feel that is their duty as parents to care and protect me. Of course I am forever in their debt for such an amazing upbringing but seriously look at Steve’s blog and you will understand all of what I say here is true.
"Till next time"
Another member of the teenage fan club speaks up for me? A friend; a sister; a peer? A fantasy? Apparently another one who credits me with being their maker. So my existence is worthwhile to some. Apparently. I've done a lot wrong but it's always nice to be recognised for what was done right. And I've done nothing other than be there and be myself.
As was the case with the others, some of whom I became a fantasy to. And some of those made up stories which got me into trouble. But still I soldier on, not giving up on my kids.
And I'm still learning the meanings of prudent, diligent and caution. But those are the property of the wind that I cast them to, which is why I'm still seeing The Wife, albeit less often.
Many reasons to keep going and live.
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