Weird and Wonderful

This week has been one of the most surprising and unexpected ones I've had in a very long time. Firstly, after some sterling research and detective work John Brinnand was found alive and well living in California. Now need to reread the obsession post to make sure it wasn't too over the top. I also got in touch with JB's younger brother Michael -who had no memory of me whatsoever but has become a Facebook friend with exchanges between us on the end of the world and new therapies for depression.

Now some of you will know that I don't exactly have a very high opinion of myself either physically or emotionally. One of the reasons no doubt that I am very much a spinster of this parish. But... Today I  had to phone my building society(not allowed a bank account any more) to see how much money was in there and got talking, as one does, to a young man called Melvin. Well, turned out not so young - 42 - and then two hours later as I dragged the shopping up the stairs the phone rang and it was him! Moment of concern, don't think he can have ever seen me and also random men phoning for flirtatious chats is so not me.

I humoured him, as you do, and after a very pleasant chat rang off. At six o'clock the phone rang again! Him, again. Now, am I flattered or frightened or a victim of some weird joke? I don't know but it really has thrown me from my comfort zone. Not looking for or needing anyone and tending to behave like a little old lady if there is the slightest hint of a flirt. Yes, you unbelievers, I can be mature when I need to be - ish?

The next strange and rather more pleasant thing was to find that Blogger had a new gizmo that allows you to see how many people have read the blog. I would have been ecstatic at twenty - but no - 607! That's right, six hundred and seven people, all over the world have taken my scattered thoughts and read them. To think that someone in Moldova has read these ramblings is extraordinary And what was the most popular? I thought Bhutan and Sikkim, Puri, the Calcutta childhood but no, it was the blog on the family row last Sunday. I guess everyone has families that are dysfunctional in some way and that must have struck a chord.

This is a ramble tonight, thinking on the page  - sorry if it wasn't what you were expecting. The other thing about this week has been the ongoing battle with the black dog of depression. Not sleeping or eating properly, not able to work up much enthusiasm for a new day - rather a feeling of, 'Oh bugger, another day.'

I wish I could cry and wail and scream at the moon but it is the most awful numb emptiness: even good things, like finding Johnny, become a worry, the feeling that he and most of you would be shocked if you saw me now. Self loathing is very much a part of it and recently self harming to release the pain inside - to have a physical display of the misery inside.

Why couldn't I  have been anorexic, neurotic or even a little bi polar? But no, I get the anxiety attacks where I can't go down the stairs without shaking, the being sick before I go out socially and the emptiness of lying under the quilt not wanting to acknowledge that there is a world outside. So, when I see the number 607 it thrilled and frightened me. It made me glad  that something I have  done will endure and maybe, just  maybe I do have a purpose after all.


All things considered a very strange week in my life. And as for Melvin - watch this space!