A couple of days ago a sense of calm came over me. I thought it was because the neighbours were silent. A few days on I’m not so sure. I’ve been fuzzy, feeling a little lost. At times it feels a bit like grief, strangely sometimes it feels like I am being held. It’s something that I am not going to try explain.

Life seems to be leading me back to ‘The Hostel’. In 1994 I found myself homeless. One of those weird teenager/parent arguments spiraled out of control. Being headstrong and having already left my mothers home a couple of years prior, I wasn’t going to be bullied into staying in a house with an angry man.

I said I was going away for a few days and my dad said if you walk out that door don’t come back. Oh yeah! I reached for the door and he shouted at me to leave my key. I said I’d give it back when I had picked up my things. He flew over to were I was, purple faced and raged, “If you walk out that door you leave your key.”

I left the key. I went to a friends and his dad opened the door with the classic, “You look like you’ve just left home!”. Floods of tears later… After three days my friend was talking about this project that he was helping out with. I said that I would go check it out before peoples generosity and patience ran out. They said it wasn’t necessary, but I’m no mooch!

I was in the hostel for a month before they moved me into the move on project, two months after that I was fortunate enough to get a flat in the city. I think it was easier for me because I had a job, maybe I was just wiser than the other kids, had no drug issues.

I was in that flat for 9 years, got better jobs, got a degree and a student debt, moved to a really nice semi rural area; into a two bedroom place. In 2007 I spotted an advert for a job with ‘The Hostel’. As a joke I applied, see if they still remembered me. Well, they did. My ex-support worker was the manager, he offered me the job.

A few months ago, I needed a reference for the Internship; I contacted the hostel and spoke to a man (not the manager!) I haven’t talked to in five years. He left before me and I didn’t expect to see him again. Yes, he still made my blood run! I quickly decided that I wouldn’t release those feelings again. Wow. Just wow. Memories of him. Loads of memories of working there surfaced too…

I was talking to a woman I volunteer with about a new project she is running. Decorating a hostels rooms, teaching kids how to decorate, all that jazz. Second part of the project is for the kids to go to another hostel and peer mentor the residents there. Now where do you think the second hostel is? Yeah. Round Three?

U is for UB40, Don’t Break My Heart
V is for The Verve, Sonnet
W is for Paul Weller, Pink on White Walls

Rain on window sill, like wild horses. Cat refusing to eat new food. Electric blanket breaking and remembering the faff with the hot water bottle (hate heating in the bedroom). Have to adopt a Dairy Free Diet for a month… What the hell am I going to eat? Enjoyed black berry picking the other day, found some out of season raspberries too.