Daily Archives: July 21, 2012

And we’re off…

I’m a day late (that annoying thing called work getting in the way), but I’m finally here in Irun: a French / Spanish border town in the Basque country that is the official starting post of El Camino del Norte, the 825km walk across Northern Spain that I’ve been banging on about to anyone who would listen for the last couple for months, and the reason I started writing this blog in the first place. (Just in case I haven’t bored you to tears about it already, I’m doing it to raise money for the charity Rethink Mental Illness).

And I’ve just had a severe attack of disco belly having seen my first yellow waymarker (photo above) for the journey. I’m sure I’ll get sick to death of the sight of them after 5 weeks, but right now I’m just extremely grateful that I don’t have to get up in the morning and ask someone the way…

I’ve also just picked up my ‘Credencial’, the Camino passport that I have to get stamped at every stop along the way, all of which seem to be strategically placed about day’s walk away from the nearest bus or train station (not that I’ve checked). I quite like the photo on the left, but the one on the right is slightly closer to the truth. At least there’s a drink at the end of it.

Buen Camino!

Filed under: On The Road Tagged: Charity, El Camino del Norte, Rethink Mental Illness

On Further Thought

I was thinking about what I wrote yesterday, and I think I neglected one important piece of the puzzle – like everyone else, I still desire and need affirmation. I know that I have friends who think I don’t because I reject their (in my brain’s wonky opinion) kneejerk saccharine ‘You’d say that to anyone’ response. Which isn’t completely fair — it’s not other peoples’ faults that their response to a screaming attention-seeking drama queen is worded the same as something they might mean genuinely. Nor is it their fault that I ‘need’ different or better and can’t tell them what I need (because if I do, then it doesn’t count/devalues any potential response and will only make my depression more severe).

It’s a pretty nasty trap, if I do say so myself. And, I know, is one of those stand-out things that tell some folks that I’m too crazy to deal with, and probably not their time. Which is fine to a point — we all need to make value judgments that make our lives better. I think I’m worth it, but that’s because I know what I have to offer to someone I deem worthy of my limited spoonage. Sure, it hurts a bit when someone makes it clear you’re no longer value for their life, but better that than ‘being nice’ indefinitely. After all, we can’t like everyone, and we can’t be liked by everyone. Time spent pleasing everyone is time not well spent (though obviously, it is still mete to be kindly and considerate, ’cause good breeds good).

Having said that, I’m still bumping along. It’s not fantastic, but it’s vaguely functional. So yanno, counting small blessings as I may.



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