I am as usual, up alone. Today is holiday for the family but not for me.
Its good to have a decent chance for retrospection.
Including yesterday's unintended two hour catnap I have managed to spend a good ten hours of the last twenty four, out like a light, what with a solid eight overnight, although the other occupants retired long before me yesterday, and remain sleeping. If we didn't have a carbon monoxide monitor in the kitchen by the cooker and boiler, I'd start to wonder...
Benita Juanita Chiquita, thank you, for this!
I love myself, as much as I love my family and my dear friends, and I've taken a lifetime to get where I can say that and mean it, where I can know it in my bones, with or without a frisson of delicious empowerment.
Looking back its a good fifteen years, not five, since I felt so cooped up that I expressed the urge to throw something at a hard corner. This is wonderful. The interim heart attack, which is mentioned far too often in here, sent me limping off to join the zombie ranks; to wave the white flag, to endure all like a broken prisoner, to stand defeated and learn not to see, although the precursory, long term, incremental lack of oxygen, inability to think, work, rationalise or wake up, not to mention the insidious subliminal stress which also brought me to that, all these proved an excellent training ground for giving up, giving in, accepting socially and medically prescribed victim status.
As early as last week I assumed my continued secret anger at having to be so medically confined was a problem, a fury to heal and then remove from the scene before it further damaged my health. What kind of therapist am I, anyway? Good grief, to forget that healing involves acceptance. "We cannot solve our problems with the same thinking we used when we created them.". Good old Einstein.
If this blow out has taught me anything, it is this - however much growing up my fifteen-year-younger self still had to do, I am today back at that same square one. My 'acceptance' is joyful, grateful and complete. My detour through the long evil freeze response is over, and I am alive, and I am so happy that I begin to cry, now, and will be signing off to tap until I truly realise on a cellular and even quantum level, that I can do anything.
Shove over, Shirley Valentine xx
1 comment:
Love it!
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