Ah How sweet was a clean and sober relationship !
I tell you. The little things I am doing take INCREDIBLE effort. I am so resistant to going out nowadays and afraid of it that to be moving house is the stuff of nightmares. I tire easily and begin to bleed. As well as that all the moves from 2002-2014 were with my beloved helpmeet. He handled them well – or maybe we handled them well together.
Now I find myself needing to PROGRAMME myself as I did in early recovery. Like an automaton. Till I find a place to rest.
But what is happiness except the simple harmony between a man and the life he leads.
Love is less a feeling than a thousand tiny acts of kindness.
“Our fears are lessened and faith begins to grow as we learn the true meaning of surrender. We are no longer fighting fear, anger, guilt, self-pity, or depression.”
Basic Text p. 26
And this is my problem at this time and since the death and coma.
Surrender is the beginning of a new way of life. When driven primarily by self-will, we constantly wondered whether we’d covered all the bases, whether we’d manipulated that person in just the right way to achieve our ends, whether we’d missed a critical detail in our efforts to control and manage the world.
We either felt afraid, fearing our schemes would fail; angry or self-pitying when they fell through; or guilty when we pulled them off. It was hard, living on self-will, but we didn’t know any other way.
Well last night I was done in again. Kaput. Arkue rang and kept talking till things were a little clearer and I also just plain sat here and said I GIVE UP.
Then I slept all night and woke as normal people do – and functioning. I went to town and handed in my rental application to Natalie. I have also now spoken upfront with Lisa and she knows that it is my intention to leave within 2 weeks.
From the real estate I went to the Urunga Meeting. Drove myself. So I did. I enjoyed it too and was clear and upfront with the men who have offered to help me. Men and woman. Now I need to speak to Shazz, Cath and – well that’s all i know. Today’s tasks are done. Dinner is cooking. All kind of mad thinking is bedevilling me. I really need to work from my head for this.
It was a cold day but blue skied and crisp. I liked being in Urunga but going back is not the answer to my unhappiness. I don’t know what the answer is. I am attempting to work from head logic.
I HAVE BEEN increasingly content with my daily life and if I can make my little nest and survive the settling in – I think that will return to me. I just need to not lose the plot in the transition.
My girls popped in as well. I love my family.
I guess it was not to be expected that I would come through the anniversary of izzy’s death and the decision making about moving without being rocked and rocked I have been.
I feel a little better tonight. Glory be !
One step at a time.
Walk In Dry Places
Let it Happen
Easy Does it.
Student pilots learn a simple method for getting an airplane out of a stall; Release the stick forward, and the airplane rights itself. Continue to hold the stick back, and you cause a fatal spin.
Many times, we cling too tightly to conditions that could simply right themselves if we would only let go. Situations often work themselves out when we stop pushing and pulling too hard.
If we’re living on a spiritual basis and following our 12 Step program, lots of unpleasant conditions will clear up without any strain or struggle on our part. The secret, then, is to do our part and act prudently, but also to be willing to let things happen.
I’ll remember today not to push or pull too hard to get my way. Things might work themselves out if I simply let natural forces work properly in every situation.
A THATCH. I can call my place a THATCH. Unless I find an aboriginal word which fits better.
They truly love their homes,
so they have no interest in travel.
There may be some carts or boats,
but these don’t go anywhere.
Everything is ordered and predictable, and that is what the farmer in Berry would seek in his final house. But as the poem continues, the “house” is more complex.
Beyond this final house
I’ll make no journeys, that is
the nature of this place,
I came here old; the house contains
the shade of its walls,
a fire in winter; I know
from what direction to expect the wind;
I move in the descent
of days from what was dreamed
to what remains.
In the stillness of this single place
where I’m resigned to die
I’m not free of journeys:
one eye watches while the other sleeps
— every day is a day’s remove
from what I know.
The house is the container of poet’s mind and spirit. The poet is now old and realizes that this will be his last house, that his journeying will end here, though one ultimate journey remains, and every day brings him closer to it, one step removed from the familiar.
I have had another day confined to quarters and basically fucked. So there are no new pics again and not much new thinking. Guess, I shall ramble back through images and memories for one more night. I have spent many years of my life in Urunga. Kind of accidentally. Down near the Lido. Now I live 15 kms inland and I don’t like it much. Then again, it would be hard to like anywhere much just at the moment in this bed ridden week with a muddle head and disturbing thoughts. It seems to me that it changed all the time down at the Coast and birds came and the tides came in and out.
I am looking at an even more secluded situation next but with neighbours which I don’t like. I was about to change my mind but some things I heard today have made me stay with this move. I would like to accept it as my next place and make it home for a while. Its a wee little place. I could make it a nest. I would like to make it pretty and simple and get my affairs in order there. I do not yet have the emotion which I need to have to do that. I have TREPIDATION.
I like birds. I like them coming down close to me. I like almost everything about them so I am hoping there will be birds there. There are also going to be children. I am less sure about that.
I have pain in my side. I am tired. I am isolated and I am right back in big shit.
I want my elegance of Living back. The dignity and a touch of class.
I suddenly find myself without direction and feeling bleak.
Breathe Lynne. DO NOT ATTEMPT TO PREDICT THE FUTURE.
Trouble is , it is hard to retain trust when this place has been a bleak failure to me and not at all to my taste.
DO NOT ATTEMPT TO PREDICT THE FUTURE.
Don’t try to get fixed either Lynne. Just move on along. Move on along.
O for god’s sake bring me in for a landing to a good home and decent living. I am so very tired and mixed up. I seem quite unable to focus my thinking and planning. It is true shit.
I am not even vaguely going to try to rally or comfort or look for wise words tonight.
Post Sepsis Syndrome – Common Long Term ProblemsPost Sepsis Syndrome (PSS) is the term used to describe the group of long term problems that some patients who have experienced severe sepsis can suffer during their rehabilitation period.The effect of any critically illness and spending time being treated in a Critical Care Unit is already recognised by health care professionals as causing certain long term problems for up to two years afterwards. However, sepsis can cause additional problems which may not become apparent for several weeks, for example, recurring infections during the rehabilitation period.It is important to remember that not everyone experiences problems after being critically ill and the length and severity of the sepsis and the fitness of the individual prior to their illness has a marked impact on how quickly they recover. The length of time spent in hospital can also affect rehabilitation.
A pretty floppy day all round really. My head is racing planning the move because I don’t want to do it but I do want to go and I am not sure about the new flat at all and need some divine intervention to get my head working about it. Kaybee didn’t bring me my sausage rolls. C’est la vie. So as usual I slept. Then – I went to town and had a grand old chat in the street with someone whose name I don’t know and then I went to NA.
Thing is I did not take any photos at all today so any images I post are from the past. Like the one up above which is the Poppy and me in Armidale in 2006. Mini-Me they called her. She lives far away now – 1000kms away and is a teenager.
The losses of this last 3 years stagger me almost to the point of vomiting at times. And then I get a wee glimpse of things getting better. Just a wee glimpse. The people at the NA meeting say they will help me too. I need to be orderly in my thinking and in my communication and actions now. I need to put emotionalism aside and simply proceed.
This next image says a lot to me. When I came out of the coma in 2014 and was beaten into despair and began to doubt God, Fellowship , EVERYTHING. A friend on Facebook asked if she could use my photos for an exhibition in the USA and I said sure. Didn’t much care who did what or what happened. So she ends me the promo and I look up the address online and damn me if it isn’t just a few blocks from Dr Bob’s house in Akron Ohio. Virtually the birthplace of AA.
I was right mad at that time because noone seemed to be helping me but in looking back, no ordinary person could have helped. I still have great disdain for the officialdom and medicos but I am no longer so hurt about the people. They would not have known how to handle me. I could not handle myself.
Lets see what image comes up next.
Well thats me and the Saf way back. Outside Bellingen’s IGA store. That’s where I met someone today and had a yarn and then did my shopping for dinner. Worts organic ginger drink and a lentil pie. I am kind of accepting that all the Kids are not so much a part of my life anymore and that has been painful.I have done it before. I have done it before and always something good has come out of it. I still credit these little girls with bringing me the desire to continue living. Its not often that it has been as fragile in me as it has been since 2014.
I mentioned at the meeting today that I planned to move and the offers of help were there – en masse. I am even swapping my double bed for a single which will give me more room and simplify things. Some women will come and help me pack small things. I do not pretend that I am entirely happy with my next choice but I am happy to have decided to leave this situation NO MATTER WHAT.
When I left Tugun back in 2003 or so I ended up in a very poor situation with a woman out on Urliup Road but it was short lived and was the precursor to BILAMBIL where I was very happy indeed.
NEXT memory awakener.
We used to do the beaches. The Kids lived in Kingscliff, up near the Queensland Border and was in Bilambil and we would meet and play. I loved those times. I find it hard away from the ocean and the river. Hard away from the Little Ones.
Rose always chased seagulls. ALWAYS.
One more memory tickler for the night.
In the middle of winter, I come up with another Northern Pic in summertime at Fingal Head Lighthouse. If nothing else happens to me in this lifetime, I have many wonderful things to ruminate upon. Just get me to a safe residence now and allow me my reflections.
The forests of medieval Europe once evoked not only terror but sanctuary, filled not only with wolves, witches, and goblins, but also with hermits, and with kind spirits of water and trees.
a bird landed today
i sat with the mother of my children’s brothers
and a bird landed.