Sea sick in the cinema (Saturday)

I’m sat in the foyer of the “empire” cinema Rubery. I@m supposed to be in screen 5, watching a monster rampage through New York city whilst a silly “vice president” man tries to get to Beth. At least I think that is what might be happening. You see I’ve had to leave the screen. The jumping, juddering hand held cameras have caused the same issues that they did when I attempted to watch the ” Blair Witch Project”.

The fresh air, quiet and the stillness of the foyer are slowly dissolving the overwhelming feeling of sickness. It’s taken me 10 minutes to get to the point where I am able to write.
Note to self: Take sea sickness tablet at least 1 hour before voyeuristic, hand held camera-esq cinematography occurs.

Amusingly, I rarely get actual sea sickness. There was that one time, on a trip to a cold country in Europe but that’s it. Trying to watch the 6th Sense whilst the sea lashed around you gave the overwhelming fear that life was about to end in a similar fashion to that of the brave souls aboard the Titanic. Ah well, at least this is proof of the DNA link between myself and mother – who, by the way, gets seasick on a lilo!

Maybe sitting in a foyer, avoiding the gaze of puzzled cinema employees will give me some time and space to ponder all of the many things that are fighting for prevalence in my mind at the moment.

The ever continuing saga of where to live and what to buy and the stressful revenge that life seems to be throwing at us. As if to say “You might have been responsibility free for 12months but here’s what you might have missed = ALL AT ONCE!”

A frail and wonderful grandmother who worries so much about trivial things that she cries and cries until she can barely remember who she is.

The amazingly beautiful, intelligent and caring best friend whose heart has been splintered into several unbearable pieces who wishes she could forget sometimes.

The job that seems such a vocation which is starting to feel like the clichéd dead albatross around my neck.

The adjustment from solitude, solace and serendipity to hustle, bustle and pressure.

The niggling feeling that I don’t know where I belong and the certainty that right now I need to be exactly where I am. And the constant warmth love and affection of the one control in my life.

It’s been busy and uncontrolled and wonderful and unbearable. A true collection of oxymoron feelings, thoughts and events that remind you of what being with your friends and family means. Perhaps the point is that there’s not supposed to be any one correct answer.

Several paths open everyday and the choice to walk is our own. I tool the path that was ” less travelled”. It opened up an entirely new world to me. The path that was the hardest was the most rewarding in the end. Squashing the tangled mass of terrifying thoughts and feelings allowed me to find parts of me that hadn’t even existed before. How ironic it is that now the place that once felt so familiar and manageable is the most difficult thing to deal with.

Is sometimes wonder if is the place I miss or the person I was allowed to be there. I have to consider if that person can exist here too and I have to do everything I can to help her be.

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