So are these unreasonable expectations? Or are they aspects of self-care and wellbeing that any half healthy mind might just chew through?
It looks simple on paper I know. Maths so easy it’s hard to get wrong. But uphill’s so much tougher than down when it’s steep and I’m more scared of slipping than heights.
Maybe there’s a good time and place to fuck up, I was lucky to fuck up there and then. But there’s no luck in finding a good time to talk. Lesson learnt: Always open up sooner.
“That bucket holding the Christmas behind me, it’s a well of loved memories to draw from. And as I sit in the living room he sat in, with glasses on just like he wore, with his slippers that I’ve now named as mine… I’m a placeholder, same as his new living state…”
“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…”
“Our natural defences set up as default, waiting for next bad to react to. Could this be our Catch 22? I experienced it, so now I expect? Is this why I link up the bad bits and seem to see everything as a threat..?”
“So if nothing else was gained about choices or boxes or survival techniques (or the wisdom or healing power of either), there is always the power of Rik Mayall. In his two-fingered anarchy we trust…”
“While the swamp settles in and the mud’s warm and easy, I forget, shit, I’ve actually DONE stuff. I kick myself for ignoring the joy that I’ve found creating and making and producing…”