Daily #16: Good times

I’m a little short on time tonight, but I promised myself I’d stick to at least 500 words here a day for as long as I can – so I’m just simply going to write about my day. Apologies if you were hoping for something a little more profound. I’m working on adding categories to these so you can choose what you read.

I’m currently in the middle of nowhere. My family and I are staying in a farmhouse in the Brecon National Park for the weekend, and there’s nothing to be found for miles around. I know – it sounds like the plot to a Cluedo-esque film (perhaps I’ll work on something like that in my downtime tomorrow).

We’re all here because it’s my grandad’s 80th birthday this weekend. Everyone one his side of the family is in attendance. We’ve brought a huge amount of alcohol, food and games to play, so it looks like it’s going to be a great weekend.

The house is part of a working farm, and it’s gorgeous. It sleeps up to 16 people, and is a huge maze of wood-panelled walls and intricate staircases. I tried playing pool in the games room earlier for the very first time – it was a bit tragic.

What’s most striking to me, though, is how legitimately excited I am to be here. For the record, my family are amazing. I’m really lucky to be surrounded by a group of people whose flaws are all very minor. There is no drama, no gossip, and we don’t have feuds; everyone enjoys each other’s company and we all get along so well.

A couple of years ago, the idea of being cooped up in a remote farmhouse with my whole family would have been terrifying. I was not adept at the art of conversation – in fact, I’ve only been starting to get the hang of it recently – and I found it difficult to talk to my own grandparents. Everyone’s partners have been invited, too, which just would have added to the pressure I used to feel to be ‘normal’.

At that time, I didn’t realise I had social anxiety. Looking back, I had been affected by it for a while before I was actually diagnosed. Being so happy about what I’m doing this weekend has really made me reflect on what I’ve been able to overcome on my own steam.

A short rant: to get to this farmhouse, I first had to go from my city to where my parents live, so they could drive us all out here. I caught the train, and for some reason they decided that on a train heading out from the centre of a big city, at 4:30 in the afternoon on Black Friday, they should only supply two carriages. Sometimes I feel like the people that organise the trains in this country are on a different planet.

Unfortunately, it’s quite late and I want to sleep, so I need to go and add some words to my novel for today. Hopefully tomorrow I’ll have some more time to post my thoughts.

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