Empty Chip Shop, Empty Life.

This morning at 7 am I arrived home from my last night shift this week. Straight to bed for me, I was bushed. Great, I can sleep without having to set an alarm. I was hoping for 3 pm.  I woke at 12 pm.

Feeling as if I hadn't slept, I showered. Came down to the kitchen, flicked on the kettle, I needed coffee. Ugh!, the post night shift hangover… A cup of the brown stuff still seems to work as a pick-me-up even though I've been caffeine-free for months, it seems to help with the anxiety. Sitting contemplating opening the laptop to continue to work on my Mental health awareness coursework, was feeling pretty miserable. I've been gradually slipping back into a low mood now for a couple of weeks. I wouldn't call it depression, but if I leave it, it will be exactly that.

My car had to go in for some work last week and so had been out of action. Finally getting it back on Wednesday this week, just in time to travel straight to work, but for about ten days I've felt as if I've been tied to the house. I stayed in for most of that time working on the book or the coursework, I've not seen or spoken to anyone. One of the ‘fun’ features of living alone with very few friends. 

Even if I do venture out, I feel unseen, I can slip through environments without raising an eye. I’m Incorporeal,  Haunting fellow shoppers in the supermarket. I speak out loud so infrequently during these times that sometimes I'll queue at a ‘staffed’ till, just so I can have a conversation. A “Yes please” to the  “Would you like a bag?” question, is as much as I get, but it's better than nothing.

I know I'm on my way to depression because I feel a pressure in my head and a frown grows on my face. I look different when the black dog visits. Catching myself in the mirror or in a shop window, it looks as if I'm the unfortunate victim of Bell's Palsy but on both sides of my head.

Living alone and keeping people at arm's length, relieves me of the pressure of buoyancy for the sake of others. Accepting my moods without the worry of infecting other people. Of course, this has its drawbacks, it means I don't always have the willpower to pull myself up when I'm down. I also don't have anyone to be better for, day-to-day. It makes me forgetful of others and their needs, and makes me selfish.

Today, my conscience is heavy. A few days ago, it was my best friend's birthday and I've yet to send her a gift or a card. I feel I might be a terrible friend, and part of me is thinking to just leave her alone and let her enjoy life with me in it. A typical response from the adoptee me.

I decided as I've felt so imprisoned of late that I would get out to a place I'd never been and see if I could get her a nice gift. Plus, I have yet to use the car for pleasure and I miss doing that. 

I Live in Grantham in Lincolnshire, and I've never been to Louth. A quick look online and it looks quite nice. There were plenty of little shops and cafes, it was an hour and 20 minutes away. Perfect. Lincolnshire is extremely flat, the roads are as if they have been drawn in sand by a child's finger. Fast, winding carriageways cutting through farmland. The skies are huge too around here and you can see a rainstorm coming at you from miles away. I do love this landscape, It's like traveling through a painting, given the right day.

It's the last bank holiday weekend of the year, I don't get bank holidays off work as most do, so I never remember when they are. Consequently, the road was littered with slow-moving cars pulling caravans east, towards the coast. I had to fight the urge to be annoyed by the delays. “It doesn't matter, you're not traveling to work” I occasionally said to nobody.

When I arrived in Louth, It was indeed full of gift shops and cafes, mostly full of tourists. I looked in every shop I could, arty craft shops, homeware shops, clothes shops, charity shops, is a card and a pre-packed pasta salad a crap gift?  I found nothing, I felt worse, maybe I was just not in the mood for shopping for someone else. I'm usually really good at finding those unusual gifts for people, but I've definitely lost my mojo.

I gave in and decided to move on. I needed to shake off this mood, but how?

A walk, but out of town, the lack of suitable gift-age is starting to annoy me. The nearest beach from Louth is Sutton-on-Sea. I can be there in 20 minutes. That will do.

Arriving at Sutton on Sea at around 4 pm I found a car park a little too easily, I paid the £2 charge and headed for the beach just a 2-minute walk. Across the road, up a wide concrete slope between the lifeguard station on the left and the kids' play area. The North Sea had retreated to expose the vast expanse of sand,  2.9 million people use this part of the East Coast every year and this part of the beach is a no-dogs zone so at this time of day I had it almost to myself. 

I struggled over the soft sand to the more compact areas in front of the shoreline and headed north, all the time checking-in to see if my mood was improving.

The beach at Sutton on Sea is man-made and is designed as a buffer, taking some of the wave power away before it hits the concrete flood defenses that are also used as its Promenade. I passed the occasional couple going in the opposite direction, we passed without a word. I started to wonder if I looked odd walking alone, I didn't even have a dog. The sky was becoming menacing, threatening a storm, but I kept on. I passed a group of gulls standing at the shore, there must have been over 100 of them. Shouldn't they be at the fish and chip shops or donut stands by now, dive-bombing toddlers for food?

After about 30 minutes, dogs started to appear, I must have been out of the zone.

I bent to photograph a small blue ball on the sand. In the distance, a woman was shouting “Where is your ball Nell?” and “Fetch the ball, Nell!” I quickly realised that I was photographing it, and she was perhaps concerned that I might take it with me. Nell turned out to be a wet and sandy, energetic, black and white Cocker Spaniel, I threw it her way. Forcing myself to engage with other humans, I asked if I could get a photo of the dog as I already had one of her ball, ‘Dad’ kindly agreed telling me she is “A right handful” loves getting dirty, loves lakes, puddles, mud or fox poo. For a moment there, I was wondering if it would be nice to have a dog. Nah, Thanks ‘Dad’, I'm out.

30 minutes on now and my legs started to hurt, I could see a groyne extending out off the beach. I'll walk to that and turn back. Groynes are the big black wooden structures that jut out into the sea, they are designed to reduce beach erosion from ‘longshore drift’, strange that this is the first one I've seen. More people now, two were fishing off the end of the groyne and a family of five the other side of it. Dad was shouting rules out “You've all got to start at this line and it's the first one to reach the second, OK?” I wondered what they were doing. “What if it stops, can I nudge it?” I heard a child shout back. “Yes but only nudge it, no cheating!” he said.

“Nudge what?” I thought, with my interest piqued I walked around the groyne … Crab racing! I've not seen a crab race in years! I have a vague memory of doing it as a kid. I walked over to watch, not wanting to intrude. Dad looked up from his mid-race crouch over his crab and laughed my way. He walked over and flicked me on the shoulder “Wasp on you mate.” “Ew thanks,” I said. “How did you catch these?” I asked. “£3 crab net and a slice of ham” said Dad. “Got ‘em all in about 5 minutes!” I photographed the biggest as it marched sideways off the course in protest. Shouted “Good Luck” and moved on again.

Toilets, Thank goodness! 

On the promenade, I headed south, back to the car. I was getting concerned about the weather turning on me. I thought about what had brought me here in the first place, my low mood. Has it helped, this beach walk, I don't feel much different. Heading out for a walk like this is usually recommended to help improve a person's outlook on life, it's suggested to me often. Feeling as if I was the only solitary person around, it just seemed to further cement the loneliness and darkness I have been experiencing. Moreover, I’m not even sure I would want company if it was offered to me.

Was I expecting too much from an hour by the sea? I was more confused. 

 I was getting hungry. What is it about being near the sea that makes us Brits crave fish and chips?

I wanted them from a place near the beach, nothing too fancy either, I wanted authenticity.

There were two cafes by the beach, both were full of people eating, drinking, and generally enjoying time off from work. Sitting alone with all these normal people who don't appear to have self-esteem and anxiety issues seemed an impossible task to perform. I felt self-conscious just walking past them! I walked away from the beach and into town.

There was one chip shop and it was packed with diners. Nope, that's not for me. Next door was a takeaway and that was even busier. I chose to leave.

3 miles north of Sutton’ is Mablethorpe, it rained hard as I was driving over. Leaving the car, I walked to take shelter in the dark and noisy amusement arcades with all their flashing lights and screams from kids being killed by digital zombies. I was haunting again. The rain subsided and I was off on a food hunt once more. There were two shops here, both were bursting with people, all waiting for orders. Again I moved on.

I finally arrived home at 9.30pm, not feeling changed in any way, my head still containing the same pressure as before. If anything I felt worse. I saw reminders of my state of mind at every turn, the couples and families on the beach, reminding me of my attachment issues. The busy shops and cafes, hitting home the nail that is  my self-esteem and anxiety. 

Coming home to an empty house is something people who live busy family lives often find a joy, an hour to do whatever they want, peace, even for an hour. When that house is forever empty, it's a curse. And it's made worse because I know I have cursed myself.

I did get my seaside meal in the end, in Skegness, I chose an empty shop, obviously.

They were the worst fish and chips I have ever had. Beware of the empty shop, it is empty for a reason.

Image: © Andy Wallis