I had every intention of writing a well thought out, insightful, quite serious blog. But then I went to the pub, and quite frankly I’m not capable right now. Or will I be capable tomorrow. Of anything really.
For the first time today was quite productive. I took my herd to a birthday party. Dylan was sat in hot tub with his friends like he was born there. He has decided his original career ambition of being a doctor, has been replaced by ‘something that involves sitting in a hot tub all day’. So basically he wants to be Donald Trump. When I am feeling more capable, we are going to have a chat about ambition, life goals, and what I will nag him about, and what I’ll let slide. Doctor equals happy mother, full time bum equals nagging mother. But for now, I’ve put that on the things to do list.
It’s also the first time since the blog went up, that I’m seeing people in real life. Not just online. So I felt quite exposed. Like I was walking around with a big neon sign flashing ‘nutjob’ above my head. I was scared about what people would say. Surprisingly hardly anything. My friend Lisa has been amazing, she actually reads this which is a start. She even suggested I get a cheesecake company sponsor, given how much I talk about it, which is a very good idea. I haven’t had any negative reactions, in fact quite the opposite which is fantastic. I have been truly moved and humbled by the comments left so thank you. I had a great time, there was cake, my new favourite pulled pork and stuffing batches, sweets – you can see how I judge the success of a party.
I had completely forgotten that weeks ago I had arranged to meet two good friends of mine for a drink that night. Usually I find a way to wiggle out things, but after Jasmine I need to keep busy. I haven’t spoken about that in ‘real life’ nor do I want to. Nothing left to say really. Just need to work through it. But avoiding going out is a step to isolation and that helps no one. Sometimes you need to put your big girl pants on and just crack on with things. Plus I’m going on like I was attending a concert about toilets, I was going to the pub. Ten years ago you had trouble getting me out the pub, not into one, so off I went.
My heart was pounding, my hands were shaking as we pulled into the car park. It was a Saturday night, and like most good pubs, it was really busy. I spent some time making an effort to go out not looking homeless so I was running late. Big busy places are the stuff of my nightmares. So I walked in by myself and looked for my friends. They were by the window, which made it easy to find them. It was a great night. We haven’t seen each other in ages, but it was like no time at all. We met when I was at college, and we all just clicked. We left college nearly five years ago, but we just carried on. These girls are hilarious, like a drink or ten, still call me by my maiden name which makes me smile. I don’t really talk about my Bipolar with them but again after the blog I was bracing myself, but nothing. I think my own self doubt is my biggest problem. We had a good time, Paul dropped us all home, me via McDonalds. I wasn’t even too drunk. Saying that usually drunk to me is what most people would call an absolute mess so coming home about to speak, stand and walk is a revelation. Though I’m not saying I could speak, stand or walk very well. When I finally surface I doubt I’ll be feeling that fresh.
I have agreed to a challenge in August. Straight crazy challenge for charity. I’ll reveal all when I’m officially signed up and preparing. But lets just say its one of those things you have to be drunk to agree to, but once you have no way you can back down. I’ll keep you posted, but I doubt I’ll make it to 30.
I’ll leave my ramblings here, because I think I need to sleep and try and remember where I abandoned my bag with my phone, keys, money, make up and the McDonalds Happy Meal toy some random man in the pub gave me.
Laura 🙂 x