Day One Hundred and Sixty Seven
Goodbye, Charlie Brown
I never thought I’d be saying goodbye to this horse, but that’s what I spent my morning doing. Charlie is being sold. I have no choice in this and I can’t buy him myself. So goodbye is the only option left.
I honestly don’t know what to say because I’m writing this through bleary eyes. Charlie is my boy. He always has been and he always will be; even when I first got him and we hated each other-he was my boy. Mine.
I can’t thank him enough for everything he’s given me, for the laughs, the scars, the tears and the memories. I can never repay him, and I am eternally greatful to have ever had the pleasure of knowing him.
Sometime in the future I’ll write a proper post for him.
Goodbye, Beast. Have a fantastic life. You deserve it. I’ll see you again, one day…I promise.
It well may be,
That we will never meet again,
In this lifetime.
So let me say before we part,
So much of me,
Is made of what I learned from you.
You’ll be with me,
Like a handprint on my heart.
And now whatever way our stories end,
I know you have re-written mine,
By being my friend…
Day One Hundred and Sixty Six
Album of the week: Have Mercy-The Earth Pushed Back
Day One Hundred and Sixty Five
I had my first driving lesson today which was…interesting. I didn’t crash or stall which was my achievment of the year. It’s weird to think that I’m old enough to be in charge of a car…and to drive it.
I remember when I was a lot younger and I aways thought that when I was 17 and able to drive, I would be really grown up, but I don’t really feel any different. I still feel as if I’m too young to drive a car. I don’t think that I’ll ever feel mature enough to do ‘grown up’ things, I suppose you grow as you learn.
Day One Hundred and Sixty Four
Plans for the Summer
Learn the guitar
Pass my driving theory test
Day One Hndred and Sixty Three
Group work and social anxiety in school
(So not quite what I said I’d talk about,m but after today I feel as if I need to discuss it)
It’s often talked about how if you break your leg, you are not forced to do P.E in school, so if you have social anxiety, why are you forced to do group work and presentations.
And I feel that that pretty much summed up today. We were forced to work in groups today, put into groups with people we don’t know, and told we have to work with them for the next six weeks, and then give a presentation to the entire class at the end.
So of course my heart was pounding as my teacher assigned us to groups, because I have mild social anxiety, and to put it simply, I hate working with people I don’t know.
Luckily I’ve been put in a group with 2 boys who, although I don’t know, seem nice enough, but that’s besides the point.
Teachers don’t seem to understand that there are students in their class with mental illnesses, and social anxiety is one of them. Forcing students to work with people they don’t know because you think “it’ll be good for [them] to get used to working with people they don’t know” is just plain wrong.
And I understand that in the ‘real world’ you’re going to have to do things that you might not enjoy doing, but if you have a mental illness then you’re not going to get yourself into a situation where you could further damage your mentality, in the same sense that if you have a broken leg, you’re not going to run a marathon because you know it will only make things worse.
Mental illness is an under-discussed topic. And I mean real mental illness. I don’t mean people that claim they have depression because they’re a little bit sad, or someone that claims they’re schizophrenic because they thought they heard someone whispering once. Mental illness is a serious topic and it’s undermimed by idiots claiming they’re mentally ill over the smallest of things, but mental illness needs to be made aware of.
School is supposed to be a comfortable enviroment for students, to learn and develop as people, they shouldn’t have to sit in the corner shaking, with their heartbeat pounding in their ears because they literally can’t work with strangers.
Day One Hundred and Sixty Two
I’m really tired and it’s late so my apologies but I’m not writing today, either a review of The Book Thief or some ramble about feminism tomorrow. I’m sure you’ll all look forward to that…
Day One Hundred and Sixty One
A back-to-school haiku.
No no no no no,
no no no no no no no,
no no no no no
Day One Hundred and Sixty
You know you’re growing up when your mum hands you a ‘Theory Test and The Highway Code’ book and tells you to study.
I’m not overly excited about the prospect of driving, which is probably down to the fact that once I’ve learnt to drive, I still won’t have a car, but still, I know it’s soething necessary to do, I just wish I didn’t have to revise for it.
You’d think after my exams finished I wouldn’t have to go back to school for the summer and I wouldn’t have to learn 963 theory questions in order to pass a simply part of my driving test. I’m not impressed.
But there we go.
A simple Sunday morning seeing Lilly has turned into a major stress-fest over adult life.
Day One Hundred and Fifty Nine
It’s weird how a simple split second of luck can be the difference between life and death.
There was an incident at work today where I was trying to get a 3 year old boy onto one of our ponies, when the pony all of a sudden reared vertically, ran back on his hind legs, went down and then reared up again and threw himself backwards into the stable block behind, smashing down on the solid, wooden flower bed.
And it was terrifying, for me, the the little boy, for his parents, for everyone around. I thought the pony has broken his leg when he wouldn’t put weight on it and the boy wouldn’t stop screaming.
And the thing is, if that pony hadn’t run backwards on his hind legs then he would have landed down on my head, and I would have been killed. If that little boy was a split second faster in getting on, then when the pony fell backwards, the little boy would have been killed. You see where I’m going with this.
I don’t believe in fate, but I do believe in luck and I know that everyone involved was extremely lucky today. The whole thing could have been so much worse.
(The little boy, the parents, the pony, myself and everyone involved are absolutely fine, just a little shaken up. The flower bed however, is smashed to pieces.)
Day One Hundred and Fifty Eight
How brittle our bones,
How weak our bodies.
Our fragile minds cannot handle the truth
So we tear into the flesh; our skin
offering little protection from objects
designed by our own hands.
As tears stain our cracked faces
Fallen from losing eyes
A mantra is whispered
Flowing with the river, red
As our soul fades
As light turns to dark
And callous fingers make little work of brittle bones and weakened flesh.