May the mindless verbiage resume; I have once again found my voice. The last three weeks have been rather interesting, and have indeed thrown a number of challenges my way. Firstly, for about a week I found myself faced with an illusory barrier that was rendering me linguistically incapable, at least in the written form, to the extent that a simple task such as composing a shopping list became a daunting endeavour. The concept of object association was disregarded as my brain replaced the words ‘potatoes’ and ‘kitchen roll’ with ‘socks’ and ‘cactus’. My envisioned future as a domestic goddess was rightfully put on hold. Such confusion was rather uncharacteristic as I rarely struggle with the difference between kitchen utensils and desert shrubbery, although I’m pleased to say it has proved to be a temporary infliction. I have yet to explain why it was I was having such difficulties when it came to writing anything down, it simply felt as though I was trying to use my entire vocabulary at once in an extremely disjointed and oddly random manner, resulting in pages and pages of notes that make little sense but are rather entertaining.
One significant improvement I have noticed over the past month has been that my mood swings have levelled out to a far more manageable rhythm. The raging waves that I was once at the mercy of have calmed to a far more pleasant ripple. However, amongst the calmer waters I have developed an abnormally short temper which tends to flare up at the most inconvenient of times. Despite this and previous hesitations, I have thankfully been able to return back to work which has been both a blessing and a curse. Being back is great; I love the people I work with and being a waitress can really be great fun, but living and working in a village in which I arguably have such a tainted history with has thrown up its fair share of surprises. Within the past few shifts alone I have served ex-boyfriends, ex-bullies, and even a man who was convicted of assaulting me after he beat me up while I was walking home from school one day. I was 13 at the time. I’ve changed a lot in the last 7 years so naturally he doesn’t recognise me anymore, but unfortunately I can’t say the same about him. Emotionally speaking you could say it’s been a rough week, but I’ve found I have a lot more control over my swings and can overcome even the most painful of circumstances to maintain a relatively level head. The secret seems to be to keep myself busy, active, and focused on the positive, allowing myself to indulge in all the little things that make me happy such as playing my guitar and doodling to my heart’s content. Sometimes life is all about the distractions.