50/50

I’m writ­ing as a way of prac­tic­ing self-com­pas­sion. Weeks get lost to the cus­tomers and com­mute, and when time off involves not think­ing or being around peo­ple, it does­n’t leave much room for per­son­al growth.

The prob­lem is that noth­ing feels real or true unless I write it down. The changes are start­ing to flow togeth­er, and I’m at var­i­ous stages of progress on sev­er­al fronts. There are no begin­nings, no ends, no chap­ters, no dis­tinc­tive tran­si­tions I can sum up neat­ly in a title. The lessons stretch out to years instead of months. Development has giv­en way to evo­lu­tion. It seems sil­ly to write about a feel­ing that won’t last from the first time I hit Save Draft to Publish.

I’ve been reach­ing out to new peo­ple cause it felt like every­thing I was doing was wrong. Marie came to feed the cats, not know­ing I was back from the hos­pi­tal. I broke down in her arms, and she bab­bled at me over break­fast, excus­ing her­self for talk­ing so much cause she was ner­vous about not know­ing how to help. I asked if she’d watch a movie with me, some­thing to do that was nor­mal and not cry­ing. It helped.

Jason’s also been talk­ing me through the upheaval. Advice is eas­i­er to accept when it comes from a sur­vivor, espe­cial­ly one who nev­er pre­sumes to know what’s best for me. He’s become the stick prod­ding me for­ward one small step at at time, a voice of rea­son in my ear that reminds me to keep on doing this until liv­ing is like breath­ing again.

It’s a reminder that I’m here only cause peo­ple believe in me; they’re the ones tip­ping the scales when it feels like I might as well flip a coin and let fate decide what I can’t.

4 comments

  1. I’m hap­py that you’ve been able to reach out to new peo­ple who have more and dif­fer­ent things to offer you. I know it’s dif­fi­cult some­times to find the right com­bi­na­tion of sup­port that you want and sup­port that is effec­tive.

  2. Glad you’re reach­ing out and being open to receiv­ing the offer­ings of sup­port in its many forms.

  3. I too think things don’t feel real or true unless I write them down. I would jot notes on a sheet of scrap paper dur­ing a meet­ing and throw it away after­wards. It would help put things in per­spec­tive.

    It’s so true that the aver­age per­son is usu­al­ly ner­vous about not know­ing how to help or mere­ly to respond. It appears that peo­ple with sim­i­lar expe­ri­ences can offer more effec­tive help, but then there’s always the risk of peo­ple of like think­ing encour­ag­ing shared biased views.

  4. I’m so sor­ry to hear you were in hos­pi­tal.

    I think of you often. Because I can’t read your pro­tect­eds I’m not very informed; but I fig­ured you wished it so. In any case I would only hope that you have con­stant con­tact, and it looks like you’re get­ting that, so I’m glad.

    I hope to hear from you some­time, apart from here.
    Hugs.

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