Today is just another ordinary day. I'm sitting in my room, of course, with nothing to do. Having been deemed unfit for work means I get a lot of free time. Something which those with hard jobs would perhaps consider me lucky to have, yet I find all of this free time a burden and wish I could be working.
People who work are the ones who are lucky, they have a purpose to fill their day. I have however, started volunteering at Oxfam and tomorrow after a refurbishment which took two weeks, I'm back there steaming clothes, stocking rails, sorting new arrivals and scanning in purchases. One of the regular volunteers there, a stocky lad of twenty-five, told me I was beautiful last time. Compliments are always welcome :) . The working atmosphere at Oxfam is always very friendly: one of the old ladies there regaled me with tea and biscuits and questions about my life: how old was I, where did I live, why was I volunteering, did I have a boyfriend? The shop is on Northgate Street, opposite Sainsbury's, has a cosy feel and is a tresure-trove for bargains. I bought a maroon Jack Wills skirt and a big grey hoodie there.
So today, today, today. Writing about doing nothing is a challenge. I sit with books piled high on my floor and windowsill, most of which I've read. Too bored to read, I listen to my mix on Youtube. Massive Attack with Young Fathers - Voodoo In My Blood is playing at the moment. I watch as the golden orb approches the woman in the video and pierces her eye and then through that it starts manipulating her movements. I wonder what that magical quality is in art that makes the beholder personally relate to the work, as it makes me draw a parallel to my mental illness and the fact that I hear voices in my head, the voices sometimes manipulate what I do. In my worst hours I thought someone had broken into my brain and was reading and directing my thoughts. "You're a scumbag" they would say, "why don't you kill yourself?" and "you're a failure." The medication helps, as it helps drown out those negative voices. I don't know where they came from but they have landed me in the mental hospital three times. Now living in supported housing, I'm not allowed a job, alcohol on the premisses or visitors past 9pm, all of which makes me pretty angry. I never chose to have three nervous collapses and end up here. Suddenly I'm accepting rules imposed on me by the state, even though I pay rent to live here? In my opinion, it isn't for the state to tell us mentally ill people how to live.
Another thing I'm thinking about today is about this website and how I've been presenting it. I know that I used to blog every week with an entry for each section, but I now find that it's too much pressure trying to find something new every week to review, so I decided to only do it when I feel like it. Otherwise I might run out of ideas! My next review will be of Superabundance by Heinz Helle.
Rant and technicalities aside, the summer of 2018 has been pretty good. Last Friday I went out with P. to Cheltenham to watch some live bands perform. I introduced him to Fireball and ginger ale. This is a drink I picked up from my Sorry Head days. It's a spicy cocktail. The Sorry Head is a pub in Exeter above which I used to live. It was fun living there, as I could go down for a drink and a listen to live bands whenever I wanted. I would intersperse spates of writing and reading with going down the stairs for a drink. I could also bring drinks from the pub up to my room, as the landlord for the pub was the same as for the flat. Sometimes I would even go down in my pyjamas. But I digress. Back to last Friday. So we stood, drinks in hand, watching these live bands perform, and watching the crowd mill in and out of the venue. Then we went for a burger. There were lots of people out in Cheltenham and I noticed how nightlife in Cheltenham is far more active than in Gloucester. The night was cool. Illuminated shopfronts and lamplight shone bright as crystals in the darkness of the night.
And now I'm sitting here waiting for P. to visit me. I wonder if we'll have a drink. I don't know because we're both pretty broke right now.