Sleeping

Yesterday evening my life took a cruel downward spiral and as a result I slept outside last night in a darkened world of thoughts and unmet promises. No mysterious forces prevailed upon me, neither at midnight nor at any other time was I approached by spirits. I am now, I will say, well and truly rooted in the real world and well and truly alone.

My world now has renewed margins, margins defined with highly immediate clarity: anger, violence, disappointment and discontent. The parameters which identify me are creations of both me and my now estranged wife. This is not to say that we should both take all of the blame; much of our situation has been visited upon us by forces greater than the resistance that we could marshal. In the midst of life we are in debt, doubt, personal history and emotional tyranny. But I would accept that the greater majority of our situation is our own creation, one way or another.

I would ask that you don’t jump to conclusions about all of this, who does what and when is always mired in a distorted narrative, I am aware of that and would hope that any reader is too, I don’t have time for black and white and I don’t have much time anymore for people who cannot see the world as grey. This is incongruous and contradictory, believing in grey at face value should coincide with a peaceful characterisation, but it is a question of who we wish to be with in life. Black and white people have no heart, nor do they care for another’s heart. Is it a cliché to say one should only be with people who both set out to treat one’s heart with respect, to be benevolent and munificent with it? Well, if it is a cliché so be it. Black and white is no doubt good for business, science and many other disciplines; but for the heart it is a disaster.

It is enough to say for now, defensively, that it was not I that was violent. I did react strongly to what I perceived as poor treatment, but only with words, and the quality of the treatment that I received was certainly debatable. In doing so I unleashed a demonic tirade of hatred, fists, degradation and a shoe. I am pleased that it was only a shoe; a little earlier it had potentially been a dumbbell threatening to crash into my skull; but even a shoe, recently re-healed, was enough to leave a three inch cut in my scalp. It’s not deep, and doesn’t even feel sore today, so it clearly wasn’t such a big deal physically. The intent behind the battering it was meting out, mostly behind my unresisting but self-protecting arms, was lost in a lack of control and the result was an inability to exercise restraint. When it was finished I knew that I had to act. I packed some things, too much really because my car is now far too much like a poor episode of a bad sitcom, and just left. Bizarrely my wife went downstairs and watched television throughout my packing.

It wasn’t difficult to find somewhere safe to park and sleep. In my first hidden spot after an uncomfortable half hour a car came in to my English Nature-nature reserve bedding place and turns to face mine. The driver revs aggressively and flashes his lights. I think that this is an invitation, or a signal coded to identify a like minded soul. A dog-less dog walker lost in the night. I get up from the back seat and the driver takes off, clearly I wasn’t what they were after, although maybe it was my misted windows that led them on.

So I drove off and had a thought. I know a place where the road has recently been closed off creating a country cul de sac within a village. Down a little lane and away from the houses, far enough to be dark and quiet close enough to be safe and away from prying eyes. So that is where I slept. Not brilliantly, it was bit cold and for tonight I need to get a blanket or two, but I think that I got four or five hours. I had taken a flask of coffee with me, so I woke up to a little comfort and I had taken some shorts and a tea shirt or two. So at seven fifteen I was in the gym, worked out for an hour and a bit, used the showers to freshen up including shaving and then off to the supermarket to buy a few things for breakfast. And now like no doubt so many before me I am in a coffee shop, with a laptop, killing time with nowhere permanent to go. I have decisions to make, accommodation to find, a life to rebuild and a relationship to take apart with a woman who has well and truly lost it with me. If I am going to sleep in the car for a few days until I decide what to do I think I need a few hidden and safe places so that I can rotate them and not draw attention to myself. Whatever next I ask myself.