A walk to town – Carterton, Heart of the New Zealand Darklands

Things bad, little food to cope, no vehicle, television is just a reminder of the garden I don’t have, the safe stable home I don’t have, food I don’t have, partner I don’t have and normal life I don’t have, so can’t watch it and go brain dead.  So decided I have to write.


Managed to get up the courage to walk to the supermarket because car T loaned me, can’t get key to work and ‘the trusty steed’ got taken away by insurance company on Thursday.

It was partly Saffy stopping me (my old dog), hadn’t been able to walk anywhere since she died and didn’t quite know why.  As soon as I started to walk down the street I started crying about her not walking with me for first five minutes, got to the dairy and thought about stopping, getting bread and going home, but willed myself to keep moving, the supermarket is only 10 minutes walk further on – how bad could it be.  Felt like throwing up all the way, kept focusing on getting to there and sitting on the seat outside writing on the piece of paper I had bought with me – just in case I needed to write.

Got to supermarket and Ruth Carter coming out, a disabled woman who I have begged for help from many many times, all I ever get from her is that stupid smile people give who know things are bad but pretend they’re not.  There were people sitting on the seat she was going to talk to so I had to keep going into the shop.  It was market day today, I only had $7 to spend so might be able to get more than I needed.

I go into a sort of trance when I go to the supermarket now, tunnel vision, try and not look at anything but those things I am there for, if I do I start crying and want to die.  All those nice things and I am not allowed any of them, while I have to watch other people walking around.  Met someone I knew, nice woman with a family, had to pretend everything was fine, we asked about each other’s kids, did the usual pleasantries and I kept moving.  All I could do not to break down in front of her.

Picked up a tomato, capsicum and cucumber only $2.50.  Couldn’t get a lettuce, potatoes, kumara or any fruit, tried not to look at other things. Couldn’t get milk or sanitary pads, hopefully the ones I’ve got will last until Wednesday, when I get paid.

Havn’t had ham for months, needed to treat myself, so bought 100grms, was so ashamed I had to ask for so little and when she put to much in the bag had to say no I wanted less.  Fought back the tears, so humiliated, other people were waiting for things, tried not to look at them, felt like a leper.

Headed for $1 bread and butter, which are my staple diet at the moment, something that helps with my eating disorder comfort food (although I have discovered I am allergic to wheat and started having migraines because I’m eating too much of it and can’t afford wheat free bread).  When I realised I needed butter which was $3 I had to walk entire length of the supermarket to put capsicum back.

The tears were welling in my eyes, feeling so worthless that I had so little money and was having to do this.  You feel like the whole world knows what you’re doing, like there is a neon sign above your head saying poor loser.  Just as I got there two woman spoke to me, who I recognised but couldn’t remember where from.  One of them was the woman who crashed into my car before Xmas, she said hi and asked how I was, then told me who she was when I was looking puzzled.  Its weird with this disorder because you go through so many extremely traumatic experiences it wipes your memory easily, so I didn’t recognise her.  I just said oh its you, tried really hard not to burst into tears and fall sobbing on the floor, turned and walked away.

Tears started rolling down my face, put my sunglasses on so nobody would see, headed for the checkout as fast as I could, didn’t want to meet anybody else I knew, kept my head down and eyes straight ahead.  All I could think of was getting out of the shop and sitting outside on the seat to write what had happened, hoping they would be empty and nobody I knew would be there.

Got outside and wrote some of what had happened, couldn’t have walked home if I didn’t.  Didn’t stay very long as I was petrified she would come out and talk to me again, or someone else would.  How could I tell her everything that had happened with the car, insurance company, police, dog, ACC, poverty – and this on the first day I had to walk to town because I was such a loser.

Started home in tears, trying not to look around, focused on every step being a step closer to home and safety.  Got to the bus shelter and thought of sitting down and writing again so I could go on, but willed myself to keep walking, one step in front of the other, one step closer to home and safety.  One more step so I could have some lunch, as I didn’t have anything for breakfast – I’m wanting to save the eggs I have.

Saw all the cars going past, people with cars and lives, who despised me because of the neon sign above my head that said I was walking because I was a loser with no money – nobody likes losers with no money.  It was hot, had to walk slowly as I find if I get to hot and bothered it can start off a panic attack or extreme distress and rage.

Got to the dairy, went in and bought an icecream, had wanted one last night but couldn’t go out because couldn’t walk to shop, used $4 in my other account.  Wondered when the $150 from the credit on my Q Card would be returned, they had told me it would be 2 weeks ago when I had phoned to cancel it as they were taking fees and I wasn’t using it.

Thought about how I had told the dairy owner I was going to give up smoking months ago and now I had, but wished I had the money to buy some as I was feeling so bad.

Got home made up all the ham & tomato into five sandwiches, ate them all – actually more like inhaled them, you eat differently when stress levels are really bad, stuff it in your face as fast as you can – like it will be all gone if you don’t.  Will throw half of it up when I’ve finished here.  Doctor said yesterday that my croaky voice might be to do with the acid from bulimia or an allergy – told him I couldn’t afford wheat free bread, he didn’t say anything of course.

Sat in front of the TV to eat but like I said all the programmes reminded me of what I didn’t have and made me feel worse, only thing I could think to do in order to stop the psychological torture was write down what happened.

I’m really tired now, its 2.15pm, think I will go to sleep, havn’t been sleeping well, woke up early again.  At least I managed not to eat the icecream as well as sandwiches, I’ll have it when I wake up I suppose.  Then try and get the car I borrowed sorted, feeling really trapped without a car.

Oh yeah, had another nightmare last night that police were coming to get me, really bad one because I could feel someone actually touch me, went into an extreme panic thinking they were going to rape me.  Laid their frozen for several minutes before I could yell out WHO ARE YOU – just like the rape, amazing how your brain reacts.  Need to sleep, hopefully no more nightmares, wish Saffy was here to protect me 🙁  Hope one day I won’t cry every day.

Kia kaha to us all.

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