Somewhere in the southern hemisphere, I forgot how to be me, forgot who I really am, and what I’ve learned over the last couple of years about how to stay sane.
I’m one of life’s introverts. I wilt with too much time spent in groups (for the purpose of this discussion, more than one other person constitutes a group- pity my three children, eh? I spend a lot of time hiding from them…) I had a moment on Friday afternoon, on the platform at Chinley station when I thought about jumping on the first train north, and just disappearing for the weekend, to walk moodily along some empty windswept beach where nobody knew me… To be honest, the only thing that stopped me was the lack of boots, and I’m reserving the right to carry out this plan at some future unspecified date.
This afternoon there was tea and cake and laughter (thanks, H, truly a lifesaver), ridiculous weather, and then an hour of blasting out American Idiot loud enough to make the house shake (I always feel I’ve achieved something if my children tell me to turn it down…)
All of this helped me to clutch hold of the fragments of who I am . I’m plotting some more escapes. Maybe this will help…