Everything has changed, yet nothing has changed. Life around me goes on as usual, my body, other than my vision problems, feels no different. And yet.....
Everything has changed.
I'm struggling. The fear is great. Sometimes I'm so nervous about what the result of my blood sugar test will show, my hands shake uncontrollably and I stuff it up and have to try again. After so many years of wanting to be dead, I no longer feel like that. They last couple of years since I got my depression under control, I have actually enjoyed life and I have so much I want to do before I..... can't.
At the same time, I have had a lovely couple of weeks, at least in the gaps where I could breathe and enjoy things.
Visits from sons and friends that remind me that my life still has purpose, that people do care. Lots of cuddles from Spike, when he's not trying to run away with the visitors.
While clearing the firewood, I found this tiny nest: so beautiful, yet I felt sad that I no longer have small children to delight in it. But later Simon visited, and so I showed him anyway, even though he is no longer small - it was he who discovered the small spider living in it.
And I do mostly. But it would be easier to control if sometimes I could have a fucking whisky. But I can't.
Mostly I'm in control. Mostly will just have to be enough.
Womad. Only a few days away. My happy place. The flag's ready. I'm ready. I need womad so much this time.