Jun 8.2

 Today as it turned out, has been better. Surprising.

My left leg has improved leaps and bounds throughout the day. Suspiciously quickly. Perhaps, whatever was squeezing the nerve has eased off ? Whatever it is, the pain has come way down, my movement has gone way up, and, within reason, I can kind of use it again. To the extent that sometimes I am carrying my crutches as opposed to using them.

My leg tires out. The longer I am standing, the worse it gets. The crutches are a life saver. It was like this yesterday but way more extreme. The pain was intense after a while. Today it's just more of a slowly building grumble and a reminder to sit your ass down. It means I can begin to potter around the kitchen again. Make something to eat. It's remarkable what a difference it makes when you can't move in a kitchen, just how many steps you end up taking, one step to the fridge, one back to the cutting board, two to the sink. Impossible when you can't move. And such a huge quality of life difference when you can.

So. Left leg, much better.

Right foot. Better. Twinging. Moans if I even think about overdoing it. But it's a grumble at best. No sudden stings of pain. Which means I can put weight on it, albeit, I am not taking the piss with it. Because this is the third false dawn with this ass of an injury and I really don't want there to be a fourth.

With being able to move more, do things, be less helpless, my mood has come up. No scratching at the walls today. No crazy strung out mad thoughts.

It's still there. Make no mistake. All that craziness. Behind a paper thin veneer of calm is the being isolated, alone in the house, lost my best friends, increasingly ill, unable to find joy, see the world through a loving fluffy butts eyes and all that shit. It is taking effort to keep that door closed. It thumps and bangs. And sometimes gets wrenched to try and fling that door open. But. It remains held. It's ok. It is, at the moment, a doable thing. Care must be used. Do not invite the monsters in. Do not go to places that will let the monsters in. Don't avoid shit, but pace yourself. Avoiding all your problems and emotions and thoughts is a recipe for disaster. Walking away from a house on fire, it will burn to the ground. And like it or not, however fast or far you run, you can never escape that house and the consequences of its burning. But equally. Pace yourself. Don't throw yourself into the middle of the inferno. Fight it methodically. From the edge in. Bit by bit, at a pace you can maintain and not just burn up. If you are tired, slow down. If you need to sleep, then stop. And try later.

So. For the moment. Go slow. Avoid walking the darker paths. And keep the monsters out. Now is not the time to sit and chat with them. Another day. But not today. Today concentrate on keeping the wheels on the road around the icy mountain path.

I think, this is a subtlety of wisdom I have picked up on the last half dozen years. That being honest and confronting issues and working your way through them, does not mean you have to jump in head first, attach a fire hose to your head and flick it on full blast. You can pace yourself. That's ok. Bit. By bit. As obvious as that sounds, it's something that I haven't really understood until the more recent years.

Anxiety is still ghosting me, albeit it is at arms length for the moment.

I dare say tomorrow morning when the cortisol kicks in, it will flare hardcore.

And ultimately, all my shitty health issues and worries are still there. Still the 300lb gorilla in the room. But for right this second. This minute. I can ignore them. In an hour maybe I won't be able to anymore as they push me down a horrible well of feeling awful, feeling ill.

My symptoms flare and retreat, but never quite seem to retreat as far as they flared, and over time they advance.

But today was a better day.

I need things to go easy and smooth for a while. No health hiccups. No scares. No tanking in the middle of the night. No bullshit. Just. As far as it goes, better days. Or rather. Less shit ones.

Never count your chickens. But it could be this was just another one of those bouts of heaving close to The End, but not quite crossing that threshold. Yet another one of those entries in the diary about, oh, you remember when it got really dark that time. The last few months have been awful. Perhaps I am due some peace.

If only the universe worked like that.

We shall see.

That door. Holding that door. So many entry points. Athena flutters in front of my eyes. Asleep. On her bed. And the darkness swells and I can feel it start to spiral. Stop. Stop. Just. Stop. Empty your head. Not today. Not. Today. Be kind to yourself. Do not torture yourself. Tomorrow perhaps. Today. No. Be quiet. Be still. Think no ill thought. Do not. Let the monsters. Inside. Tackle them when you are stronger. Not when you are exhausted. No one climbs the mountain when they are spent. A time and a place for everything. Understand it is not just the intent, but the timing of that intent. The pacing. The flow. Just as important as the intent itself.