Rest Day
Well, when i say rest day. Being around an alcoholic in full blown madness whilst trying to help them pack and organise moving house is not exactly mentally or emotionally restful.
Wanted to get out and run but didn't have the opportunity. Instead had great curry with a mate and then a full pizza.
I'm pretty sure that is not included in any nutritional training programme for the marathon. Chuck in loads of diet coke, tea and fags and you may get the gist my emotional state has not exactly made me want to be uber healthy.
Harsh times people. but nothing i can't handle. Though if I'm being honest I'd rather just be well focused on me and the training and being healthy and strong, instead of a totally insane alcoholic, Like training a naughty puppy possessed by the devil.
MMM, instead of Andrex at Tesco today, maybe i should have got some Anthrax. Never mind, last resort. Lets hope i get Back on the running train tomorrow when i can squeeze and hour off babysitting duties.
Had lots of great comments about yesterday's blog. Thanks for that people. It was cathartic, a release. A valve to relieve the pressure. The anger, frustration, sadness and resentment that builds up from dealing with an alcoholic tornado, is almost too much to bare sometimes. Makes you want to have a good drink!
Either that or Alanon - a solution. For families and casualties of the alcoholic.
Nothing quite fores me up more than alcoholism. I have witnessed so much destruction that I'm passionate about it's credibility as a disease and 3rd biggest killer in UK. I'm passionate about how it's viewed and taken seriously. The only thing that really fires me up as much is passionate sex and Haagen Dazs, Preferably together. Double winner.
So it is like a vocation. A calling. My grandfather was a welsh preacher and clearly i have his genes. But i must be careful not to be preachy, sanctimonious and annoying. People switch off. I don''t have the answers. Just recognition.
So where do i take this? Be a counsellor? A therapist? Earn money from it? That doesn't feel right. I find it too hard dealing with people in denial who don't want to get well. It's an impossible task and fair play to those who have the patience in helping people with damage limitation.
Do i write a book? play? Comedy? Perform? Too rehabs? To schools? To the public? Is there a market? Can i earn a living out of a vocational passion or will i and everyone else just become bored of it?
How many times do you pass someone preaching the bible in Oxford Street without taking a blind bit of notice. Sometimes it's not in the message but in the messenger?
I think there is a role for awareness, but should i do it? Do i have it in me? What is the channel? If I'm I'm being honest, fucked if i know. But i hope it will be revealed at some stage.
Let me just content myself with being able to release frustrations by typing this blog. At the moment i am sat in the nude. Nothing apart a pair of white towelling socks. My god, what with my new 'Bucks Fizz' haircut and colour, and white towelling socks I'm harping back to the 80's.
Now where is that Joyce Sims LP?
xx
xx
No comments:
Post a Comment