Last night, something happened mentally that I am still processing, but which shed light on a whole bunch of stuff I’ve previously left well alone. The past does indeed remain where it lives, but occasionally what happened back then will give significant pause for thought. In this case, it was the action of trying to make a point and not listening to the response that caused a massive cleft in self-confidence. It doesn’t help that I didn’t sleep well last night, the exercise regime finally caught up with me and that it is time to make some sensible choices about what is doable.
I’m going to do as much as I’m able on the bike tonight and skip the Gym. The weights session I would have done today will happen tomorrow. This afternoon I need to sit, relax and process what has been unearthed, and in the manner of a World War Two unexploded bomb in the Estuary, safely defuse explosives at distance. Once that’s done I can tow my psyche down to Shoebury Garrison and they can blow me up there. This way nobody else gets hurt, and all the messy shrapnel lands in deep water.
I still plan to relaunch myself on Monday. On reflection, detonating a part of my old life and then scrapping it somewhere on the Essex coastline seems a wholly appropriate means of moving forward.
Let’s hope I don’t end up as a hazard to shipping in the process.