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One Sock - Writing as Therapy

Below is a journal entry, from Wednesday 13th May.  The intent was to write about the sinking feeling I was experiencing, mentioned at the beginning, but by the end of writing this, I just felt fine. A stream of consciousness, cataloguing the main events of the previous 48 hours, or so, it illustrates to me the benefits of journal writing. It ends quite abruptly, because it had served its purpose.






"Two calendar months in lockdown. 
I feel like I'm sinking. For some time today, I had one sock on, remedied only by Vincent pointing it out to me, then realising that I was aware and didn't give a shit, he took off the one sock, so I was sockless.
The socks in question were my black, wool socks that I wear to work, inside my warm, waterproof walking shoes. I haven't been to work today, so why was I wearing them/it? Well, I went to work yesterday, with full moustache and no bra, wearing waterproof trousers (it was snowing, but that's really beside the point - I would have wo…

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