As part of an idea to reintroduce myself into the social sphere of life, I have been giving myself little goals which I don’t like to call a ‘plan’ because then it makes the idea feel too concrete and concrete is not a soft, comfortable place to be. ‘goals’ and ‘ideas’ are more ephemeral and if I take my long-distance glasses off, they get fuzzy and warm too. They’re less definite is what I’m saying. Because I have a problem with definite. A lot of definites in my life have turned and bitten me on the arse cheek yelling “SURPRISE, SUCKER!”
So my little goal today was to get in the car (another anxiety of mine – 2 car crashes in 5 months, albeit 5 years ago now, I can still smell the burning and taste the blood and powder from the airbags) and pootle down the road to the Sue Ryder charity shop which is attached to the St John’s Hospice in our lovely little village. I could have walked, it’s a matter of half a mile, but I have walking alone issues. Don’t ask.
Now I’m back, the amount of tension my bones underwent whilst I was there, is proper painful. I think I hold my breath a lot when I’m in a social scene too, whatever my body goes through, it is downright exhausting.
And while I was there, I noticed some of the clothes hanging on their racks that I’d donated during the summer when I took a ton of stuff The Girl left me to take charge of. And as I touched my old tops, I did irrationally imagine buying them back because I’m like that – if something has belonged for such a long time, then if I see it again, I yearn and immediately want to care for it again. I’ve no idea what that means, I should ask my counsellor. In fact when I took the Girl’s and my stuff down in the summer I had a hard job leaving the bags there, I felt almost like I was betraying them, abandoning them through not fault of their own.
I came home with a lovely padded winter duffle coat, a wild-coloured top and three books. All for £14. I do love a bargain 🙂