I’m just so very thrilled to have slept on my bed again, and have an actual roof over my head and not a fabric canopy. It’s been quite a perilous journey getting back here, as I have mentioned in previous posts. 215 days blog, since Jax cheated on me and kicked my ass to the curb. 215 days since I lost everything, and had to retreat into healing mode. I am emotionally healthy now, not burdened with that miserable unrequited love feeling I had. My empty heart has progressed beyond the moment of suffering, in large part, thanks to the direction and insight of my therapist Margaret.
I did sleep though, from about 9 pm to 4 am. That’s 6 hours. Not bad. And my arms never fell asleep like they always did on the futon. The unforgiving 4-inch-thick flat, hard thing I laid my head down on so many a night.
I’ve brewed a pot of black coffee, and my day is off to an early start (and likely, an very early finish, probably before the end of Sunday Night Football, I reckon). I’m at peace blog. The hardest part of this whole transition was the actual move itself, which was going to incur a sum of labor over the course of a day or so, but even that went faster than I could have ever imagined. My back is stiff, and my muscles are a tad achy this morning. But I mean, yeah, I figured something like that would be in store for me.
Whatever unexpected twists and turns life has yet in store for me, I think I’m pretty much ready to handle it on my own. My only set-back has been at the hands of an emotional disturbance in my parental units, which I was the one to revert, and I was the one to suffer the emotional consequences. I won’t have that problem when I’m by myself. Who am I going to incur strife with? Me?
Anyway. Good morning. Happy Sunday. I’m about ready for some football.