A Single Life | Scratching the Itch

Hiya and welcome back.

It was a pretty good week last week. I’m well into a routine now - the freezer is full up of pre-cooked meals and with shop bought stuff such as breaded cod and Cajun chicken steaks there’s enough in there for a couple of weeks. Handily too, thanks to one pupil moving I now get home at least fifteen minutes earlier four nights a week which gives a bit more leeway - and a bit more of an evening.

Friday night was a bit grim. I’d felt fine as I got in from work and had dinner but I could sense the black clouds positioning themselves as I got the washing out of the machine and there followed a pretty tearful couple of hours. But it passed - as it always does - and by the time I went to bed, fortified by cheese, biscuits and merlot, I was feeling much better. That’s something I’ve always managed to keep in mind when the tidal wave comes - it WILL pass and I WILL be ok afterwards.

Th day at the football on Saturday was good - the football aside which was sadly, dire but it was a good day out with friends and we had a nice walk through Hyde Park past the Serpentine and Kensington Gardens. Even my knee didn’t complain much though the occasional stops for er, refreshments may have helped….

It was nice at last to catch up with more friends nearby for a meal at their place Sunday evening. Good food, wine and company as it always is.

So, to the main reason for this blog post and the point of the title.

Somethings’ been nagging me for a while, just at the back of the mine but there nonetheless. When I’ve woken in the early hours it’s been there, not at the forefront of my thoughts by hovering on the periphery. It was the idea to write a blog post detailing the biggest thing that’s happened in my life - the 90 minutes or so on the morning of August the 1st that changed everything.

In one way it made so much sense - I’ve been blogging about my experiences for nearly 10 years now, be it holidays, cruises and more recently caravan trips, so why not this. I did after all, see it all.

So I did. 1500 or so words. One of the hardest - and yet easiest - blog posts I’ve ever written. It produced a lot of tears, both when writing and reading it back, but here’s the thing: It was a very cathartic experience and I immediately felt better for having done it. I hesitate to say it was a weight off my shoulders but it certainly helped.

So where is it? Well, my initial thoughts were to publish it like I would everything else, but then I wondered whether it was really necessary. It is of course, intensely personal. I counselled some advice from a good friend who helped me make my decision. It will, for now and the foreseeable future remain private. I see little to gain for myself - or anyone else - by making it public.

The thing that helped was writing it - I guess a kind of therapy - perhaps like pouring my heart out to a bereavement counsellor, who knows but I would urge anyone in a similar situation to consider trying the same.

So, just a short one this time. Thanks again for all your comments and kind words, they mean a lot.

Cheers & Beers

Rich