Drunk in Cardiff went off air for a couple of days there. Silence. Of all the things I put on pointless lists of what I ought to be doing - every day, every week, this particular day - blogging ought to be the easiest to do. I clucking love it I do and, whatever it might mean to you my lovely 13 or so readers, I do think it's genuinely therapeutic for me. I get stuff out of my head and in the getting do some mulling and such and I love writing so it easily fills time and feels at least useful in a silly old sort of way.
Much more useful than what I did over the last couple of days which was smoke too much dope. D'oh! Nothing too spectacular I should add and I still feel on an upward slope from the bottom of the ditch. However, I did end up doing far too much just sitting around doing sod all. Still, being gently to one's self being the watchword of early recovery - I forgive myself. There, that's that then... This whinge has now ceased to be.
On the Wednesday I had to toddle into town at the unaccustomedly (is that a word? Let's see what dodgy Mr Spellcheck says (Mr Spellchecker say no, Mr Cardiff Drunk say sod yer)) early hour of 10am - I mean, for god's sake, what do they think recovering alcoholics are among Britain's worse at? Enjoyed it really. It feels good to be part of the working, walking world and out of the triangle that my life had become - home - pub - corner shop - home - and getting round a bit more.
The occasion, for it still demands an occasion, was a course at Pathways. Called rather nebulously Directions, it was, in fact, a damn good day's work - well, 10am till 2.30pm is as close to that as I'm likely to get for a while.
As with my little anxiety session, things started well with the course leader (for a dozen of us too-sick-to-workers there was one leader and two 'facilitators', although I think one of them was just sitting in as part of her induction to a slightly different job) telling her own story of depression. As I signed up with a nod to all the confidentiality stuff I won't go into any details, but it was rather moving. As we went round the room we all had similar stories - I think of the 12: one left early, one left at lunch time and of the survivors all but two were there with mental health problems and those with physical ills spoke of similar problems.
It went well enough all things - including my own cynicism - considered. Kind of motivational, kind of self-helpy, a smidgen of positive thinking, a spot of CBT-esque language. I've gone through all this sort of thing before but my own situation is such that I'm so much more open to it now. It helps that the people are coming from the right place - Pathways is proving positive so far, in the preparing you for work, we'll see how touchy feely they are around offers of work and as the time ticks along.
Thursday was OK too. I overslept and missed what should have been my second session of the course, but I've got in touch and they're going to send me some literature. I need another pile of paper to sit next to the other 13, so that's good.
So, I pottered around and did a damn fine clean up in the bathroom - you could indeed eat your dinner off it. C came back from the pub with me to listen to a CD and have a small smoke with a coffee. It went a bit off the rails there - I'm still anxious and jittery enough that cannabis is very much a hit-or-miss mixed blessing. It's probably a good thing, but I'm definitely tending towards paranoia and expecting the neighbours to batter the door down with axes, guns and bits of hosepipe stuffed evilly with the very small, crystalline gravel you can buy in garden centres. So, another area of my life with more moderation in it.
Yes, off the rails, like this very digressionary post (that's got to be a word surely, it's staying whatever Mr so-called Spellchecker says). Got a bit nervey so had a bath and went to bed only to have to get up and eat half a reheated corned beef hash - a taste acquired in hospital.
However, in the be-gentle-with-yourself, all-is-forgiven mood of the moment, I still feel better. Things slip a little but I'm more able to stop myself from total annihilation.
So, yes, I'm very much better ta.
If you spent it, thank you for your time.
Kerdiv Drunk.
Don't Look 2019
4 years ago
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