The Edge Cafe

In Cambridge is The Edge Cafe, I’ve been here many times for the support group I attend on Thursday nights. Today I’ve come here on my own for a coffee and a bacon roll, that may not sound like a big thing, but for me it is. I’ve never liked going to places on my own, but these days it really has become a bit of a mountain to climb.

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The weekend

I spend the whole week waiting for the weekend to come, every morning I wake up and tell myself to just get through the day. I get home and tick off another day that I managed to deal with. But then the weekend arrives and I’m faced with the prospect of it.

Weekends have, for a long time, been difficult for me. Too much time to think, too much time to waste. Friday nights I think about what I’m going to do over the next two days, invariably I achieve little of what I plan. Big ideas turn to disappointment and failure.

I normally end up not wanting to leave the house, I get up early and I sit and paint, I don’t even get dressed. That may not sound like a bad thing, painting helps my mind, I enjoy it, in fact I love it. It may only be paint by numbers, but it’s something creative and I get a huge sense of achievement when I finish one – they usually take over a month to finish.

There’s a flip side to that creativity, it’s a lack of motivation, it’s a fear of going outside, it’s also a huge sense of paranoia of being at home. For some reason I have a fear of telephone calls and also of anybody coming to the door, so although I lock myself away at home, I always have this horrible feeling of unease.

So as I lay in bed watching tv, waiting for the Zopiclone to knock me out, I wonder what the weekend will bring. As always I have plans, I want to clean my car to start with, I want to do something with people, I want to reach out to friends, to anyone, I’d love to go for coffee, but I know I won’t, my social skills are nonexistent these days.

Hey ho, enough for now, gonna settle down. Nite nite world, be kind to each other and try and smile just a little.

Are my problems really so bad?

Been feeling down these last few days, have wanted to keep myself to myself, wishing it could just be me, my other half and my dog. We went for a lovely walk yesterday, walked for miles in the countryside, was perfect.

Had to go back to work today after having four days off, struggled to get out of bed, struggled to leave the house. Eventually managed to get in the car and go to work, got myself stressed over nothing as usual.

Today I had a call from a friend, she told me she has a tumour on her brain. Imagine a doctor telling you that, what the fuck do you do?

When these things happen, people always say it makes them think about their own lives, live for today, live like every day is your last, what a load of bullshit. We plod through our lives, most of us working to live, facing each day as we have to, wishing for something more, wishing we could change our lives for the better, but in reality most of us have to make do with what we have.

We don’t all have the security or means to make the changes we would wish for. I wish I could remove the things that stress me, I wish I had the financial security to be able to do voluntary work rather than paid work, I wish I was able to travel more, to see more of the world. I wish I could have a social life, friends who I can spend time with, but I know my social skills are so lacking that I can’t do that anymore.

Instead I have to live with what I have, like everyone else I have to live the life that I’ve been dealt. I make mistakes, I make bad choices, my life isn’t perfect, but it’s my life and I have to live it, I can’t suddenly decide to somehow make it better.

My friend faces an uncertain future, and I know she is strong and can beat that tumour if it’s humanly possible. If nothing more I am reminded that there is always someone worse off than me, my life may be shit, and no maybe I can’t change it, but her problems do put mine in perspective.

Feeling good

I’ve been listening to the sound track to The Greatest Showman, and I’ve just watched it again. Only the second time I’ve watched it after discovering it a couple of days ago. I love the film and especially the music, I’ve written about it before, but I’ll say it again, music can have such a huge impact on my mood.

My choice of listening can lift me up from the darkest depths, or it can plunge me down to the same despair. I’m no music buff, my tastes are fairy varied but in no way highbrow, music snobbery is up there with wine snobbery for me, if you like it, well then you like it. It doesn’t have to be Chopin or The Beatles, I’m afraid I’m quite happy with Bucks Fizz and Abba.

If only I had a button on my phone that stops me from selecting the songs that bring me down, I guess sometimes I need those songs, I don’t know why, they just have their place.

Today I’m singing and dancing with my headphones on, tomorrow may be different, but today music brings me joy.

And yes I’m listening to The Greatest Showman soundtrack now 🙂