I have been contemplative of late. I’m thinking a lot about songs, music playing in my mind. I think about stuff… sad songs bring back memories of what things used to be like. When I was in love and happy, and living. I put together a pretty solid run there, from the end of 2012 to the beginning of 2014. I did well and thrived. I just didn’t have a job that understood my difficulties, or a partner for that matter. I think she always sympathized with my disability, but never really understood it. I mean, how can you know I carry this terrible weight and then have THAT be the reason for abandonment? I guess I have this pervading nostalgia when I think about her. It makes me feel gutted, empty and woozy. I reel at the hollow space in my soul where love once shown brightly. I don’t intend on nourishing that avenue much either, as the future days climb up upon us. I need to discover self-sufficiency and interdependence. I can do that, though it’s hard and hurts sometimes.
I have a lot of time to think about this stuff… probably why I’m so hungry to write… a deep need for understanding is filled by the acknowledgement of my words. I report my progress to others, but really, no one is here paying attention to what I’m doing with my moments. I’m left to my own devices, which has some benefits and also some clear drawbacks. I’m not the best keeper of tasks, I’m not the best motivator. I do what I can, given the circumstances.
For now, I’m just glad I have this blog: a place to reconcile my ever turbulent mind. My little slice of sanctuary. I hope you out there have one too, whatever shape that takes for your life. It’s healthy, so why not.
My arm is almost back to full power. Still have some pretty nasty pain when I extend, or push while extended. It’s the blood vessel that got fucking torched, I can see the bruising in my arm. A lot of work to do there to make my arm back to the way it was before last Tuesday.