Some Form Of Spiritual Transformation That Makes 50,000 Steps In A Day Easy
When I returned from Tenerife after getting fired I prayed to any God out there that would listen for a way through my alcoholism. Nothing happened at first but gradually I noticed a peculiar change in myself.
It was like the opposite of a supernova happening inside of me. The black hole that I felt at the core of my being had collapsed in on itself and spawned a new sun. The ‘sun’ seemed intent at burning away layers of myself that I thought were me but I now know aren’t necessarily me.
It’s hard to know what really happened. Perhaps this is manic depression or maybe my brain is trying to eat itself. If it is a God that answered my prayer then I hope it is George Carlin’s Joe Pesci.
All I know is that I have this incredible fucking fire inside of me and it isn’t just hate for once! It makes doing 50,000 steps in a day feel easy.
Walking 50,000 steps today
I went out at 10am and tried to go clothes shopping but it always is a miserable fucking experience. I struggle to find anything that I like and become incredibly demoralised. I then slow down to a crawl or retreat to a food court where I can regroup. Yesterday I tried the exact same thing and I had lunch 3 times and bought 1 pair of socks over the course of 4 hours.
Fortunately it was a mild sunny day so I stayed out around Alexanderplatz and walked 20,000 steps in total. I bought 4 t-shirts too.
I came back to the hostel, changed into my running gear and decided to try to make it to Charlottenburg Palace. I got there easily enough and took this picture of myself having a wee gurn. I look like Deirdre Barlow from Coronation Street being sucked down a black hole.
I finished the night off with a pleasantly seedy walk around East Berlin. I’m usually very happy when I’m out walking and I sometimes catch myself singing out loud and skipping like a fucking school girl down the road. None of it makes sense. I’m struck by mad fits of laughter that I can’t explain.
Occasionally I will get depressed and think of the bad old times and I’ll just stop dead in the street. My mind become paralysed and I can’t function. This used to happen sometimes in work and was brought up when I got fired. I was going to tell them that it was a result of depression but I already knew they’d made their mind up and that I didn’t really owe them an explanation.
My mental health is my responsibility and from now on I’m gonna concentrate on just being well. The good days far outnumber the bad days at the minute and I’m taking it a day at a time.
Tonight is my last night in Berlin. I’m heading south to Vienna on a bus and I’m gonna stop over in Prague for a few hours. I will not be buying any fucking boxes and I will try not to stab any St Patrick’s Day wankers.