Numbing Agents and Lost Week means Backwards.

High on the last post that took weeks to compile, made of research and learning and food for the mind that once consumed had me sated and proud… I took a ride on the pride and went backwards.

All it did was strip me of positives. It wasn’t celebration at all. It didn’t build on or add any substance, and it definitely wasn’t a reward. All it gave was new claws and a louder hard voice to that chimp that said “Put this thing bedward. Can the whole thing. Delete every post and all traces. You self-indulgent self-absorbed uber-cretin you”. Hope that explains the small break between posts.

I was busy but busy surviving. Busy with headaches and oven based breakfasts. Busy with new threads that tangled and untangled that fed into comfortable guilt. Hello swamp, hello warmth, I just made you. Now let’s wallow and lay low a while.

I don’t know a friend, wife or partner or lover or other that hasn’t told me I survive on that thing. My response always was and is always: Guilt is my driver, my forward. If I didn’t feel bad then I wouldn’t do better, so a fuck up now and then gets me going. OK, let’s pick that apart some time later.

I let nobody down (well, not obviously). I shirked no duties (though I kept duties light). I was present (but nowhere near best). It was less than a week but felt longer. Two steps forward, one back, smudge the difference. But I and I alone knew the difference. That one step back was a draaaaag.   

So this is something I need to remember:

A head out of the swap with the shoulders still under isn’t the same as a clean bird’s eye view. I’m not looking down yet but I’ll get there. And I’m hoping that might strike a chord. ‘Til then a good day just lets us survey, our heads above water and winning, looking at ups, nexts and betters. Take it and build on it, keep whistles dry, don’t slip back.

And be wary of a small win’s excuses.   

(And just how we got to this post, right here is where it all started….)