The Diseased Imaginings of a Tainted Mind
So, I didn’t leave today.
I got everything packed, the only thing left to do is to put the water into the van and then I’m done.
The reason I didn’t leave today was the weather. There was snow, just as I was thinking of leaving. The moment I decided to stay, I felt a lot better. I’ve also decided that my original plan of Plymouth was, perhaps, a little too ambitious. I don’t have another destination, yet, but I think I’m going to roam along highways and byways that I’m most comfortable in, at least to begin with.
I have filled my bag with books. Books to read, and books to meditate on. I’ve got some money in order to be able to treat myself. Hopefully, along the way, I will find time to be alone. Somewhere I can walk and recharge.
The most obvious place for me would be something by the sea. This particular part of the country does not have many sea-side places which are campervan friendly, and at this time of the year, it is a little too cold to commit to a long walk just to see the sea. I’m currently thinking Birmingham, because we have friends there. That, however, defeats the point of spending time on my own, doing the things that I need to do. I may have to have a very spiritual pilgrimage in a motorway service-station, because there I can at least stop for the night, with nothing to disturb me but the rumble of the motorway.
It does feel a little odd not having a specific destination in mind, or even a general direction about where I should be headed, a town or village that I’d like to visit just to have a wander around. All of the major cities that I might visit are connected with people I know, perhaps I will have to think further afield, and see where the road takes me tomorrow.
I know that I will leave here heading south. The ultimate aim being the motorway, and then downwards. That way, I’m never actually too far from people if all of this gets too much. I think that was the problem with Plymouth, was that it was a nice idea, but I’m really not all that strong. Being somewhere semi-familiar, or at least, within striking distance of people I know seems to at least calm me.
Perhaps on the road I will be able to sleep.
I still feel nervous about leaving, and I’m avoiding doing it. I’ve curled myself up into a ball, still scared of what is out there. A friend (N) suggested that I find a way of treating myself. I may take them up on that, the moment I can work out what it is that I want to treat myself with. I think at this point, just managing to get on the road might be a call for a celebration.
I really do not want to sit and go through what’s in here. The Netflix show Grace & Frankie (A great series, btw, you really should watch it), suggested video-blogging (vlogging). When your talking to the camera, it suggests, you give yourself some good advice.
I’m not sure I’d be quite willing to do that. Not least because I must prefer writing as a method of communicating, but also because I want to be able to journal some of it here. A vlog is not something that I can do easily while on the move. I can, however, write out what I’m thinking, and then sanatise the extracts for here.
I’m not sure what I’m going to do with the full writing. It will likely be burnt, that I know is cathartic. Though if it’s all digital, I’m not going to be able to do that. Perhaps I’ll print it out in an internet cafe somewhere, read it over, sign it, then burn it. Or, print it out, put it in a box, mail that box to myself and when it arrives (maniacal cackling), I’ll hit it with a hammer.
I don’t think I’m going to be able to make a firm decision about where I’m going until I’m actually on the road. Everywhere I fix on produces that odd “panic” that I used to have when faced with the idea of going to school.
I may write more later.