Day 146 – A little bit of anti depressing history
I am conscious that the last few weeks, blog wise have not been some of my happier posts. I do not want to bring my readers down, I really don’t and so let us pretend that it is last year and that I am okay and just to prove to myself that such a time existed let me try to recall it for my sake as much as yours.
About a year ago, I was living in a house with a wonderful woman. Every morning the two of us would run for the bus, dressed to the nines with bags loaded with brushes, defrosting meals made by myself and the prettiest stationary you ever did see. We were going to be writers, we were both dreamers and every day in class we would join fourteen others who all wanted to live the dream and become the journalist. During the day we would take trips to fill up on junk food, we were working so hard that our metabolisms were in overdrive and I must admit it was wonderful to be able to eat whatever we wanted without having to worry about our weight. We were learning, more and more every day and though it was tiring it was fascinating and we gobbled up every morsel our tutor had to tell just as quickly as we caned our way through the chocolate.
I was still going out and most importantly of all I was still enjoying it. We had decking in the garden and though we had a reinforced door and lived in an area of high crime sat out on the wooden slats even in the twilight it didn’t matter. I still loved to cook and there were days when I would bring in enough food to class for everyone, and I mean everyone. When the course began I brought a PlayStation into class so the boys and I could play pro-evo as part of our sports module.
I covered football matches at the weekends and at one point I was sent to cover the women’s boxing championships. I was getting 100 per cent in tests and I was actually good at the shorthand. My friend and I would practice it when we weren’t making our way through bottles of red wine watching whatever DVD, download or series we could get our hands on. We both had boyfriends but the house was perfect and I wanted to stay there forever. We had girly sleepovers, house parties and dinner parties and I loved every moment of it. I had friends, amazing friends and we were all there for each other and it was like a little community and its cheesy but it was beautiful.
A lot went wrong and I got sick again but I was well and I was happy and I was fun. I am telling you this because I wanted you to know that I haven’t always been this way, so sad and utterly consumed by tears and dismay. I did love going out and I was full of dreams and I believed that everyone was good and it didn’t last but it was real, it really was. Perhaps if I can believe it then perhaps it might be possible to find a way back to what I was because I don’t like what I have become and I wasn’t always this way even if it is getting harder to remember how it used to be.
- Today’s dress is from the mysterious dress donor. The shoe boxes have stopped but still the packages keep coming now in brown paper wrapping. They feel like packages people get when they are at war or at boarding school to help them through and to give them hope and this is what they do. The make of the dress escapes me, I can not read the label but it is that lovely fit which makes women of wider chests look a lot more demure, at least until I leaned forward a little too much and but for the grace of God nearly revealed my bra to half the office. Luckily they were hard at work and thanks to my handy stash of pins the wayward dress was soon put to rights. The sofas are a new addition to the house, bought from Gildings auctioneer my mother would never forgive me if I forgot to give them a credit in today’s post. She is so proud of them that the photo’s today were done in the comfort of the chairs.
