This was a comment for the inspiring Seaneen (Secret Life of a Manic Depressive), but it reminded me of how my comments are often better written than my actual posts, as there is a much higher chance of someone reading them, and they are more focused on a subject or point. I thought I'd post this here as a reminder of how I would like my writing to be, as opposed to the usual distressed venting.
Oh, the joys of Christmas, the great eating festival. As an agnostic I find the whole event extremely annoying, but I try to pull on the Pagan and Norse parts of this time of year. My Christmas presents are also awful (”Make your own!” says counsellor. Huh? Really? From under the duvet?), and my Nan, who brought me up, is in hospital and barely recognises me. I’d give anything to skip the whole thing.
On the subject of privilege, your post pretty much reflects on how I beat myself around the head with the “Come on, it could be worse” baton. I, like you, have a roof over my head, and food in the cupboard. Things are tight, but when I’m well-ish, I can manage, and my Connexions PA helps me sort out the backlog from when I’m very unwell. To be honest though, we aren’t really living on our respective pitance. We are surviving. Shrink suggests I take up swimming again. He doesn’t understand that there is no money to spare, unless I give up eating altogether.
This is become rather a rambling comment, but f*ck it.
The worst part of Christmas? Visiting my Dad. Going out for a meal or two, and watching a month’s rent being blown on food and drink. Sometimes they tip more than I have to spend on food in a week. I’m proud to be independant, but sometimes I wish he could see how I live compared to him. I want him to appreciate how privileged he actually is, but also that I’d rather have more time when I am well, than any amount of money.