Thoughts on Depression

I was talking the mum about many things the other evening and, in my attempt to be completely honest with people from this year on; I began by telling her that I only needed her to listen when I talk. That her opinion or advice is not something I am asking for and that some things she said before Christmas only made me feel guilty. She took this well and so, the conversation went on and lasted for some time.

Mum told me about the first time she had seen me ‘like this’ and that was over a decade ago, when I was secretly skipping lessons during my A-Levels at school. This merged in to days before transforming in to weeks. I still don’t know how I got away with it for so long or, to be honest, why I ever did it. I can remember being home the day my mum answered a call from the Head of Sixth Form… I think I was supposed to be in one that day yet, I was hidden upstairs in my room. Maybe even lying in bed; listening and waiting.

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Poem: ‘One More Day’

I’ve got some walking to do today and I did manage to take some photos yesterday afternoon that I need to share with you some time… I also have less than two weeks to finish my short story when I’ve not even put that first letter on the page! That’s going to take some priority over the coming week, in case I did create an absence from this space. I’m only looking for around 3,000 words but, I’d like to get a draft in to my tutor this week, as there are a few places from which I could certainly start this story.

To start the day off, I’d like to share with you the last of my four poems from this week so far. This was also a contender to be read aloud in class:

One More Day

As one week ends
The weekend begins
A chance to unwind
There will always be time

Monday morning
Work must begin
Pressure is mounting
Do you sink or swim?

Three days left with
Breathing space ahead
After a long day at work
It’s only time for bed

Wednesday night
My page remains blank
Just a blinking cursor
No fish in my think-tank

 

Water Bored

How I wish I’d taken my camera with me to my writing course earlier today. Not to photograph any of the beautiful people that I share this time with but, for some of the sites in and around Bristol, with all the flooding that’s causing havoc around the south-west of England! Driving in to the city, it was only ever ‘raining’ and nothing more. By the time I parked up and left my van though, I could see it was falling sideways and at some speed. There was a part of me that wanted to hide away in the parking lot for the next two hours but, having previously missed two sessions thanks to anxiety, I realised that I had come this far and, after a walk less than five-minutes in length, I was soaked right through my new jacket and jeans. Spending two hours sat indoors with soggy socks and wet shoes wasn’t that pleasant.

But, I had a story to read – or, at least, that was the idea…

In a couple of evenings, I’d managed less than two paragraphs of words – the second of which, was only completed after I arrived home this evening; minutes before leaving the printer and joining me on a journey in to the city! There’s no title and I don’t know if I’ll ever work on this again but, I thought I’d share it with you now, as my tutor had some pleasing words to say.

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Day 9 – Someone You Didn’t Want to Let Go, But Just Drifted

I could pick out one of several friendships from my childhood and, even, one or two acquaintances I’ve made through work. For whatever reason, people seem to disappear from my life once that common ‘thing’ (work, college, etc.) has ended. It doesn’t matter how I may feel about them as a friend and, how much I may wish to stay in touch; it never seems to happen.

Even re-connecting with people through Facebook doesn’t make any difference.

Day 9 – Someone I Didn’t Want to Let Go, But Just Drifted

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Writing is Hard

It’s been a long day today. I was up at 6am getting ready for work at 7am. As I awoke, I realised that I still had my earphones plugged in from my night-time meditation session! Did I listen to any of it?! I hoped so! After breaking my routine recently and entering a bad habit of not listening to it every night or day, I really felt as though I was going to need to reassurance this evening.

Only thirty-minutes after arriving home from work, I wanted to be ready and out of the door again for a drive in to the centre of Bristol. Today, was the first in my Short Fiction writing course.

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