Been reading all morning stories and experiences in Rescue Missions. I want to know exactly what Clara is getting involved in. I also long to go myself. To be around others and to have some purpose to life -- to have someone plan out my haphazard days and tell me this is what you need to do to get better. I want direction. I also crave human contact the most -- any contact, even the negative experiences of the homeless would be nice -- and Rosa has been busy with her daughter and grandchild much of the time lately. I spend much of my time alone. I can see why, Kevin "The Homeless Guy" Barbieux, gave up his home to be homeless again. You have more direction and purpose to life -- the will to survive spurs you on and keeps you busy. You are also surrounded by people in an urban homeless setting -- the homed life getting so lonely and you are stuck in your little box to wile away your time.
I really wish we had as vibrant an A.A. group as the Lagrange group up the road. The Lagrange group has meetings three times a day. We are lucky to have one a day here. I would get active in them and try to do something positive. I cannot afford to drive to Lagrange which is thirty minutes away everyday. It can be a long day waiting for an A.A. meeting and the human contact I so crave -- the human camaraderie of a singular purpose and cause.
I've thought of volunteering. The only real volunteering resource is our local hospital being a very small town. I am worried extensive background checks will rule me out since I have a mental illness. I guess I could go try. I worry I won't stick to it and will grow tired of it in a few weeks since I am not being paid. I am not the most responsible of persons to be honest. I don't won't to waste people's time. I worry I will fail.
I try to walk all day in my house to pass the time. I pace back and forth between rooms as I talk to myself and ruminate over wants and desires -- talk radio constantly being on for comfort. I tried walking this morning and just got tired and wanted to search for things about Rescue Missions. I can't help but romanticize the experiences these men and women go through on the fringes of society. Their hard lives seem so real and mine so fake and vacuous.
I wish I could watch TV to pass the time. I gave up on television years ago not being able to concentrate on it very long. I can't even sit down and watch The Weather Channel any more.
I could concentrate on the blog more, but I write about real life and am not sure how interested in fiction my readers would be. It is hard enough to write about real life in an interesting way and that is happening to me. I would think coming up with a new fictionalized story everyday would prove hard.
I guess I just want some peace of mind mentally. Writing is so cathartic for me. Peace to be okay with myself and peace to sit alone quietly without something to occupy my mind constantly. I am just a bundle of agitated nerves all the time as if I am about to jump out of my skin. I am my own worst enemy.