The Sea

I know the answer to the first bit: they know better than us. These people are more knowledgeable than victims or experts. They use their extensive experience of life and trauma to pronounce a more sensible, practical way of solving the problem. I’ve spent a lifetime of being told how to better cope with my anxiety, by people whose idea of support is a clap on the back followed by ‘cheer up, it might never happen.’

I took a day off yesterday, but it didn’t go away. There are other stories, disturbed in the silt, that are asking me if I want to deal with them or not. Do we continue to pretend they didn’t happen or is it time to finally clear the mental tank, once and for all? One series of events (documented on this blog) is so good it ought to become a short story and I think that’s not a bad way to put the past to rest.

However, that’s nowhere near the whole story.

I’ve let too much stuff slide again at home, and this is not acceptable. I have a duty of care to other people that is not being fulfilled, and in the next couple of weeks I need to get the domestic side of stuff back to a stage where it is not the subject of friction. I’m entirely to blame for this, nobody else. My own trauma has consumed everything else.

That means more time away from a screen, and some hard work to clear the surrounding space to a state where I look professional instead of just pretending to be. I can’t expect to be respected if that isn’t sorted in other places. This isn’t just about being one thing without accepting there are consequences elsewhere and finally, as an adult, I understand what that really means, probably for the first time.

The only way any of us gets out alive from this thing is by being better.

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