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Head full of nothing – and that’s too much

*Random post warning*
*Mental health is fine reassurance for anyone who knows me*

I can work at work at the moment, but I am finding it hard to work on other things. I seem to just keep retracing my steps and it makes my head feel weird. It makes my head feel like it might:

a) implode
b) explode

In actual fact it does c) neither, but that doesn’t alleviate the unpleasant feeling.

There’s a large part of me that just wants to hate this week in its entirety, but just because yesterday wasn’t brilliant it seems unfair to write off all the other days that haven’t done nearly as much harm… There’s a clean washing situation in the house that makes me feel like the walls are closing in and I don’t know where anything is. And I really don’t. The best way I can describe it at the moment is with how the morning’s dog walk went.

Firstly, I think I jumped a red light on a roundabout. I am not a fan of traffic lights on roundabouts, but the fact is I just wasn’t with it. Then I found some real false teeth on the ground in the park. The gummy bit that goes in your mouth appeared to have snapped and there were a great quantity of all kinds of teeth on it. I have never seen such a gruesome pink plasticky sight in all my life. How you lose that many false teeth in a go I have no idea; I don’t want to even think about it. Then when my jangled nerves were getting over that I found a pigeon, headplanted into the dirt under the tree. It looked like it had died on a branch and hit the ground headfirst. It was worse than roadkill, although it was intact. Plastic teeth and dead pigeons, all before half past eight in the morning. Maybe I should have written off today then. As it was I didn’t. I went to work. I then found out two things happen in Southend-on-Sea that make me wonder if I really live in the UK in the 21st century.

The first thing is that when the Job Centre sanction you here, they send you to the local food bank. Like it doesn’t matter that they are taking your benefit for a month, sometimes with no warning. Like it doesn’t matter that you have no gas or electricity for a month because you can collect some free tins a few times a week. The woman I spoke to today had spent a month of the winter in bed for this reason. She is not the first person I have met to be sanctioned.
I have met too many in the last year. The second thing needs some consideration before I write about it. Maybe tomorrow. But it did make me wonder if the Anglo-Saxon equivalent of the Taliban are in town.

By David Cox – at the Tate