This week really hasn’t gone at all well. The blood donation thing has definitely been harder than last time… however, the amount of decent sleep I’ve had is most certainly on the rise. Before I go into full-on over-analytical mode again, it is obvious that there’s a shit-tonne of stuff going on that is a) hugely positive and b) a lot better than it was. This is where I stop, plant the flag and declare a victory for progress. Then, I go and put the kettle on.
I am only now beginning to feel the shift inside me: as there’s an effort each time to just be more honest, and more truthful each time I write a post, odd things begin to happen. The desire to be angry or confrontational begins to melt away. Instead, comes the realisation that truth, such as it is for me, conquers everything. Truth gives me strength. Honesty allows a part of my psyche to expose itself, after many years in hiding. It is no longer about being comfortable in myself because that has happened now.
What comes next is the need to grasp this world around me.
I suppose it is the antidote to the choreography imposed around life that allows routine and rewards to maintain my sanity. Relaxing out of routine is, in its own way, as important as the restrictions. It is your life, perennially balanced. As yet, I’d say I’m still very much in the ‘I have no idea what I’m doing’ stage of that process but all the bits are undoubtedly at my disposal. The lively debate I had with my son mid-week is the first time for I do not know how long since I feel I was able to make my point for him to understand.
Eventually, if you work at shit for long enough (and hard enough) it does begin to make sense.