annanotbob2's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Day 126 I did the poetry writing workshop today, that I was really excited about, and it wasn't what I was expecting at all. We were invited to write poems about our hair, as hair has been such a big thing in lockdown for 'everyone'. But it hasn't, not for me. I don't really give much of a fuck about it. I've only had one interaction with a hairdresser since moving here five years ago, and I can't even remember the time before that - oh, as I was writing those words it came back to me. When Sammie went into the care home I had a bad mental health episode which included sawing my hair off with the bread knife, and I did see someone after that, to tidy it up. 2013. So twice in seven years. We read a few poems about hair, then she gave us fifteen minutes to make notes, dropping in prompts, reading lines from the poems. I thought I wouldn't have much but I found I remembered more and more as time went on, but not much of it was good. I remembered the vile hairdresser going on about immigrants while wielding scissors round my ears. The one who told me that if I hadn't had sex for a while he'd do it, he wasn't fussy. She asked us to remember our mothers brushing our hair - no, nothing for that one. Stepmother kept our hair very short so we could brush it ourselves. Son phoned then - I'd forgotten to turn my mobile off and when I saw it was him I just abandoned the workshop and talked to my boy. Just hearing his voice made me cry. He's coming down tomorrow though so I'll see him then. That made me cry even more. Bed now. Grateful for: Son; Daughter; Grandson; dog; friends. But feel incredibly lonely most of the time. Sigh. Night night x 11:56 p.m. - 16.07.20 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- |
||||||