Sunday Evening no.2

Walking down the road, the first house, that brought back a familiar name, was Lorraine Kenny's house, I remember watching the Simpsons for the first time in that house. Then there was the Ivory's and the Ryan's, both families still live there. Next door was Noami and Sandra's old house. Then there were the Hickey's. I used to fancy one of their sons, Patrick Hickey, when I was 7 or 8. Then there was Lorna Kelty's, Noami's old friend. Across the road again, was Nicole Ford's house and next door an "old man" lived who had lost half of his arm (that always freaked me out a little). Beside them lived a girl who was in my class, who had an operation done on her ears, when we were in 1st class. Back across the road, there lived one of Orla's friends, Georgina and I'll always remember her father giving Emma guitar lessons. Beside them were the Van der Heijdens. They were dutch and their daughter Francis was my age, and we would always have a "love-hate" relationship. Many a time I remember getting myself or Ma into trouble with her mother, because of me "blabbing" too much. Beside them was another girl who I went to school with, Nicola. She was always called a "cry-baby" (how awful kids can be, calling each other names..). And back across the road, were our old next door neighbours, Billy (who worked in a soap factory and used to always bring us bars of soap, which we loved for some reason..haha) and Mary and their daughter Patrice (who is Eileens age) who still live there, and our other neighbours to too, who used to have this massive big dog, that scared the life out of us all. In between the two, was our old house, number 139. It still has the same windows as 15 years ago and it's looks so nice. I felt like ringing the doorbell, and asking for a quick look around. But of course I didn't.

It was just the strangest feeling the actually walk down that road. It always seemed to be hilly and walking down and around the corner, used to feel like venturing out in to the big wide world. Because that one street, back then, was our world. It felt so big, but it was just so tiny. So many different people that made our world, all living so close to each other. And probably half of those people, don't live there anymore. Great memories, that were all a lifetime ago...

So I kept on walking and slowly made my way back home. By the end of the walk, I was totally back on track. I was feeling refreshed, "airer" and energized. But I'd be lying if I said that I didn't feel in my body that I'd been walking for a lot longer than I'm used to. That walk was the furthest I've gone, since last August. So it was big. My back was sore afterwards and I was tired. But that didn't matter, because I had proven that I'm able to handle a bad day by NOT crawling back into bed, and that it will pick me up and make me feel normal again. So I didn't really care.

Then we went out to dinner. This is the first time I've eaten out since June. So it was quite a big thing. But I didn't make it into that. I just went with the flow. I had salmon and a roast potato and salad. It was pretty nice and I didn't stress about how it was all prepared. Because would normally be the big hurdle, when eating out.. the not knowing what oil or butter the fish has been fried in, or how much dressing has been used on the salad.. things like that. But I didn't think about any of that.. There was no guilt. Just goes to show what a difference 7 or 8 hours can make. One minute I'm feeling guilty for eating a biscuit (when I can see on the packet exactly what's in them) and a short while later I don't even think about what fatty butter has been used to cook the fish in.. Isn't that weird, how the mind-setting or the way of thinking can change so quickly and so drastically? It continues to amaze me. But anyhow, I was eating out and I was feeling fine. I was happy to chat, I was comfortable and not at all paranoid.

Right now, I'm still feeling okay. The past 2 nights I've had to sit with an awful feeling of guilt for eating a biscuit but I don't know if I'd be okay to have one now. I suppose I won't know until I try. As I'm writing this, I can't quite believe that somedays I manage to feel guilty for eating something that's tasty. Lately I'd think about all the guilt and sometimes I can't imagine that I'd ever have to deal with feeling that kind of guilt again. But, on nights like last night or mornings like this morning, it's like the most normal thing to feel and I can't imagine ever NOT feeling guilty for putting anything in to my mouth, no matter how healthy or fatty or tasty.. It wouldn't matter. But I suppose the difference is in the moods. And, as with any other feeling, it can be so overwhelming that being or feeling any other way, just seems something of a completely different ball-game. So I'm not going to analyze it too much. It just is as it is. It comes and go, and will continue to do so. For how long? Nobody knows. So I'll just deal with it when it's needed and leave it at that.. Signing off for now..