I have been very, very good recently and haven’t had chocolate or crisps since the 26th of July. I’ve always been partial to a fizzy drink but since I stopped eating chocolate and crisps I’ve not had much of want for them. I’ve had the odd can of low calorie lemonade but nothing else. I’m one of those strange people who enjoy drinking water and my water consumption has increased dramatically.
This morning I decide to treat myself to sausages. I’ve been making an effort to cut down on fat and added sugar in my diet and have resisted sausages but sometimes you just have to give in. I popped down to ASDA and bought some low fat sausage along with some lovely black grapes (great with ham in a wrap) and 17 tons of food for the cats and the dog.
As I went through the checkout I got talking to the woman who was working on it and she was telling me about her son who was 25 and not living at home still expected her to buy his boxer shorts for him. She told me about her youngest daughter who is 19 and how proud she is of her because she works as a receptionist in the surgery that I go to.
I don’t know what made her tell me that she wasn’t actually her daughter but her granddaughter – perhaps it’s because I go through her checkout about once a week and we do cat talk as I pack my shopping – but she did it and then she opened up a little more.
Her eldest daughter has schizophrenia and when she gave birth to her daughter she handed her over two days later to her mother (the woman behind the check out) for adoption. It was acknowledged as best all round as the daughter couldn’t have coped with raising a child and her mother had a big heart.
I said I understood her daughter’s decision because I have bipolar disorder and people, in general, underestimate the chaos that a major mental health problem can cause. In that moment there was a flash in the eyes of us both as we instinctively realised that even though we weren’t friends and the relationship between us would always be check out operator and customer, we knew that there was trust there.
On my way home I thought of my health problems and realised I was already tired from the day even though I hadn’t done very much. I think that I was beginning to understand that, whatever goes on in my brain be it bipolar disorder or the apparent added extra that’s been hanging around this year, I have to weigh up how I plan my time carefully and not be afraid of backing out of plans.
Tonight I was going to go to the Jeremy Corbyn rally in town. It would be great to hear him speak and the photo opportunities would be amazing but I’ve heard him speak before and I’ve taken photos of him so I’m not missing out on anything the electric atmosphere. *sighs*
It wouldn’t be a brief nip into town either – travelling there and back via buses that turn up when they want to instead of when they should and then a couple of hours there. During that time I could eat properly, have a bath and sit in the Bark Park with Ogden for an hour.
So tonight Jeremy Corbyn will have to wow the crowds without me (and wow them he will) and I’ll be less stressed therefore some poor person won’t be on the wicked end of my tongue tomorrow so it’s all good.
Now excuse me please, there are sausages to be eaten.