Did you know you can smoke a pineapple

There was a slight shift. A small parting of the clouds and I knew I could do it. I could move my legs, I could make it into the office today. I looked at the marks on my arms and sighed, I made a mental note that next time I felt like that I should just eat Nutella. I mean I am a firm believer that Nutella was sent by the gods. It's that good. 

I had dreams about my gram again but they were not the usual ones of her death haunting me. It was just me spending time there, in the house and it was so vivid I could still see every line in her skin, I could smell the Berkley Red cigarettes and feel the fibres of her cardigan against my skin and she released me from a hug. 'Go now' she said 'And don't you be sad there's a good girl'. I hold her words to my chest like they are a tangible thing I can touch.

Those first few steps are always the hardest. I walk in silence today because I don't think there is a musical accompaniment to the swooping sensation I feel at the thought of walking through the office. I love my colleagues but every step feels initially like I am making them in slow motion. Are they judging me. Do they think it's because I can't cope. Do I look broken. 

It is amazing how we are told that our happiness is in own hands and we can't deny that if we are not happy in ourselves, it's like a slow poison eating away at our rationality. But today I am sheltered. By each of my friends in their own way. A word, a touch, a smile, a laugh. I still cannot bring myself to be the version of me that I know I should. I should put that face on we do to protect ourselves. To say we are fine, hide the scars. But I can't. And they see that. But it's ok. I feel the lightest I have felt in days walking towards home. 

When this started I began chain smoking. I had always considered myself a social smoker and was not happy health wise or financially that this seemed to soothe me but then I discovered the e-cigarette. I call her viv and she tastes of pineapple and it's the sensation. It's holding it to my lips and holding it in my hand and breathing. And I think. There are greater evils. I always reassure myself that it's not like I inject heroin in my eyeballs or anything.

I swing by the docs and get more points on my advantage card as a regular. The nurse is going to jab me with flu in the hope I won't get it. I'm sure there's a more sciencey type explanation. Am I a hypochondriac or is my throat already closing.

Tonight it seems like some kind of future might be possible. I will go out, I will go to work, I will experience and that in this second however long it lasts is gold dust.