It's ironic, I haven't posted here for nearly 2 years, not because I haven't wanted to, but because health and circumstance prevented me from doing so.
And today I do so, because an act of unkindness has nearly pushed me right back to committing suicide.
I haven't slept more than 5 hours in the last 72 hours. Grabbing snatches of sleep between return journey's on night buses traipsing to and fro Heathrow Airport.
I haven't eaten in 2 days, instead spending the last of my remnants of cash on beer to allow me to keep going through the pain and panic attacks caused by the lack of sleep and to stay using the computers here in the Hoxton Hotel where I'm currently located.
I've been frequenting this venue for months now. I'd built (or at least I'd thought I'd built) good relations with both management and staff alike.
I'd left my holdall in the left luggage for a few days. Having a Louis Vuitton bag when you're on the streets, makes you a little bit of a prime target. A fish in a barrel waiting to be skewered. So laying it somewhere protective for a few days helps inordinately.
It's also a weight and when you're struggling with my health condition CFS (Chronic Fatigue Syndrome) carrying a few extra pounds can change everything.
So it was moments ago, without a by or leave, receptionist Richard just dumps my bag at my feet and says I cannot store it there anymore. I'd been sat at the computers all day, not being particular productive (almost organised a film shoot for Thursday, developed a new idea for my campaign with Museum of London next year entitled #UniquelyLondon and assisted with a friends legal woes, but still nothing spectacular), feeling extremely weak and waiting for the weather to subside so I could attempt to do something.
That one action, took away everything, suddenly in that instant I can no longer move, it's a burden too much, all my clothes will get drenched, the weight will prevent me from getting anywhere, I can't take it to the theatre and I can no longer protect my straw boater if needed.
The lack of any interest to why they were holding my bag never entered the equation, it was a fait du complis and onwards I trek....
And today I do so, because an act of unkindness has nearly pushed me right back to committing suicide.
I haven't slept more than 5 hours in the last 72 hours. Grabbing snatches of sleep between return journey's on night buses traipsing to and fro Heathrow Airport.
I haven't eaten in 2 days, instead spending the last of my remnants of cash on beer to allow me to keep going through the pain and panic attacks caused by the lack of sleep and to stay using the computers here in the Hoxton Hotel where I'm currently located.
I've been frequenting this venue for months now. I'd built (or at least I'd thought I'd built) good relations with both management and staff alike.
I'd left my holdall in the left luggage for a few days. Having a Louis Vuitton bag when you're on the streets, makes you a little bit of a prime target. A fish in a barrel waiting to be skewered. So laying it somewhere protective for a few days helps inordinately.
It's also a weight and when you're struggling with my health condition CFS (Chronic Fatigue Syndrome) carrying a few extra pounds can change everything.
So it was moments ago, without a by or leave, receptionist Richard just dumps my bag at my feet and says I cannot store it there anymore. I'd been sat at the computers all day, not being particular productive (almost organised a film shoot for Thursday, developed a new idea for my campaign with Museum of London next year entitled #UniquelyLondon and assisted with a friends legal woes, but still nothing spectacular), feeling extremely weak and waiting for the weather to subside so I could attempt to do something.
That one action, took away everything, suddenly in that instant I can no longer move, it's a burden too much, all my clothes will get drenched, the weight will prevent me from getting anywhere, I can't take it to the theatre and I can no longer protect my straw boater if needed.
The lack of any interest to why they were holding my bag never entered the equation, it was a fait du complis and onwards I trek....
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