I am running, sprinting through my life doing much, achieving little. Ever have so very much on your plate that anything you attempt to complete seems to fall to dust? That's me at the moment.
Juggling a combination of marbles and beach balls - seriously nearly impossible to do, let me tell you.
Then in the midst of the manic madness some stupid little thing will trigger it.
The other day it was the re-run of the grand final in My Kitchen Rules. The bit where Bella sits on the floor and cries. Her family calling words of encouragement, begging her to get up, to complete what she started.
BOOM! Up it comes and hits me with a force that takes my breath away.
Grief. My dark demon I keep hidden in the depths of my psyche. Locked away. It sits festering, plotting revenge, planning to break free and catch me unaware. Succeeding multiple times in a brief black exodus, only to be ensnared and seized, thrown bound by self-control into the deep recesses of my emotions. To sit and wait, until another moment, another trigger causes my frenzied grip to slip.
And each time the demon gains strength, and is harder to subdue, with each breach its power grows and I know one day it will break free and swallow me whole. I will no longer exist as its power wipes all I am and all I was, away. Leaving a broken shell in my place. A motherless daughter.
Diagnosis by stealth - Yesterday I went to see my Rheumatolgist. He is an interesting guy. At first I didn’t like him much. I felt like he was dismissing me, writing everything ...
3 days ago