Well on the way back now, in part to River for giving me this award. I am supposed to give it out to more friendly bloggers which I would do if River hadn't beaten me to most of my favourite bloggers. So I am going to award it to a non blogger but prolific commenter until he is barred from commenting which happens frequently. To Robbert, poet, pest, all round fiend from Hell about certain issues but a story teller of old Melbourne life that should be blogged. I know he can be extremely nasty and deserving of a whack around the ears but in the best Elizabethan style, he threw down his cloak to protect me when, as a newby blogger, I was attacked by a right wing woman hating swine. Take your award, Rochester, Lord of Literature and Song.It has been a while since I blogged. I'd sit down ready to write and the mind would go blank, so blank I'd be sitting here an hour later watching my pictures screensaver. First time for years I'd thought of giving it all up. The cause of all this was an outbreak of air-bourne gastro at the Home and it going into lockdown with requests to visitors to stay away. Oh joy, a whole week, at least, all to myself. Just me, me, me, me.
Well, me crashed and burned. For two days I barely left the bed except to eat, take the BGL and pee. I slept for almost 48 hours. I had pushed myself above and beyond and when I could stop, I hit a brick wall I didn't expect. Doc Marvin said it was natural. Doc Marvin also understood when I told him that going to the Home with the new arrivals had brought up a lot of bad memories of being locked up with the mother from hell for three years. She doesn't remember anything but I did and I could put it out of my mind at seeing her being so happy and alive until a month ago when I was reminded of the recent past.
I have also been plagued by dreams and memories surfacing from some parts of the brain non-active for years. I was advised by someone, not someone I remember, but the advice remains.
Sit in a quiet place (hard when I had 4 cats, 3 dogs, 2 boys and a marriage to a moron of the first water so that gives you an idea of how long ago I was given this advice).
Imagine the top of your head opening up and letting the warmth and light of the sun flowing in.
Imagine the light moving through your brain, down alleyways, stairs, around corners, down into the deepest parts that never see light.
Let the light open every closed door, light up every secret behind each door, look at every secret in bright sunlight.
After looking at each secret, deal with it rationally then let the sun destroy the darkness.
Whatever you cannot deal with, put back in the dark but never shut the door, leave a small sliver of sunlight to show you the way when you can deal with it.
I'm now beginning to think I have a brain full of swiss cheese holes of sunlight considering what has been surfacing lately. I don't deal in 'what if's', what happened, happened, what caused it, whose fault it was, doesn't matter. What matters is to acknowledge the blame belongs to all concerned, not to me exclusively. I was a cog in the wheel of life and sometimes I jammed it and sometimes I let it run away with me. Sometimes it just ran right over me and left me broken.
I believe the crash and burn was a rehearsal and a warning of what could happen, if I let it, for when my mother goes and I'm facing my life with me. At least I know I won't be putting anyone through the same thing when I depart. Departure time is planned for just after my 110th birthday, I have a lot of catching up to do and I'll need the extra time.
15 comments:
I'm sorry to read that you've crashed and burned JahTeh, but like the Phoenix, you've risen from the ashes to delight us once more with your words.
Take time to think things over if and when you need to, but remember we're all here for you too.
Be easy on yourself, mistakes are best forgotten, blame belongs to the weather, always.
Love you. xoxoxo
That's a wonderful offering to Robbert. I couldn't think of a more 'worthy' recipient. You could also give him the prize for perseverance.
Sorry to hear your head's so full, but as with most of these awful states of mind, which most people in the blogosphere seem to struggle with from time to time, hopefully it will pass.
Or is that just me being unhelpfully optimistic?
Good lord, only 110???
The crash and burn I know well, you'll only get over that nasty hump with a vanilla slice and a triple hot chocolate.
And a pork pie from Brewsters butchers at Southland.
And a bajillion solar Chrissy fairy lights from Big W.
I am so so sorry to hear of your collapse. And equally grateful to River for helping to bring you to a place where you can blog again. You were missed. And I am really looking forward to Robbert's response to his award.
River, I have a sense of humour that might hide under a rock for a while but always turns up again. Like Tuesday, sitting at the computer and cursing the person who was cooking toast somewhere, it smelt delicious. I must have some so out to the kitchen to find I'd left my precious $8 kettle boiling away and smelling delicious. No holes but a nice shade of brown. Fortunately this is not an isolated incident and the kettle will recover.
Elisabeth, I think we blog to get things out of our head. Too many things leads to a roadblock on the freeway but there's always a book to read and air to breathe and the sun always rises.
Jayne, I have discovered the secret of porridge, the eating of. Grate orange rind on top, stuff 4 (no more) dark chocolate buttons into the hot stuff and instant Jaffa porridge. I can handle that. Dark chocolate, good for you.
I will not forgive you the fairy lights.
EC, the BOH keeps me between grounded and wanting to knock his block off. I didn't count on his excellent hearing when I was crying in the shower. He ran around getting a piece of 3 ply for my frame for the Christmas project when I really needed for him to put up the bloody curtain rod for the drapes. He did what he thought would make me happier. Men, definitely a separate species.
Jaffa porridge mmmmm. I too cry in the shower - and no-one has ever heard it. Or mentioned it if they have. And I haven't forgotten the Xmas project, and really want to see it. So, I guess I am happy that the BOH got it wrong. Right next time?
Jaffa porridge! I have to try that.
I can't cry in my shower, the hot water doesn't last long enough.
I love the Swiss cheese idea combined with the shafts of sunlight. Perhaps you just left your 'fridge door' open too long and it overheated?
Sorry, that's a shocker of an analogy. I'm glad you're back. Truly.
Thanks. I've always wanted an award like this but never realised what I'd have to go through to get it.
Not many commenters would admit to being a pest a fiend and extremely nasty but I do. After all, nothing is ever given for being nothing, and politeness can be insulting.
The choice is to be accepted or tell the truth and (to my shame) there's times I've gone for acceptance. State psychiatry makes you acceptable, turns you into a robot: an ideal commenter for some bloggers who applaud diversity but don't want it. Except when things get a bit quiet: everyone's falling asleep, then a contrary opinion reminds them all of how much they love each other, the clots.
I'm glad of this award, as I say, my only objection is being described as prolific (a word I'd apply to a pimp). But anyway, coming to know Miss Jahteh has cleared up something for me; I'd always wondered why angels are shown as being chubby. It's no longer a surprise.
JT- fabulous imagery even if you were going through purgatory to see it.
Take care of yourself.
Phil
mm, have never been quite how to define 'sanity' or 'normal' .. but am definitely sure that there will be some who are 'convinced' that they are 'right'. So be it.
Me? am just a rambler,
drifting from side to side
detritus on the tide
of time
.....
RH could, more than likely
fill in the rest
with the best
of poets and raconteurs
..and none of this
has rhyme
or time
Davoh, sanity is in the mind of the beholder.
Robbert, a prolific pimp? As for Angels, not cuddly females according to the Bible. Big brute fire breathing avenging winged things and all male. Bit hard to think of Satan tiptoeing around on pink clouds before he got the shove off.
Kath, it really is a great relaxer unless you have too many secrets chained up way down in the deepest dungeons which is when only chocolate will do.
River, you live alone, you can cry anywhere. That's what I miss, crying into the kitchen sink, the freezer especially finding you ate the last ice-cream or a great sobbing movie.
EC, I consider it my gift to the world, Jaffa porridge, taste sensation. I'm getting used to porridge and I think the problem was that I can't stand the smell of warm milk so I use water.
You don't know what you're talking about, angels have wings and are good looking. They are not men, wake up to yourself.
-Robert.
Maybe I meant cherubs.
That's a ripper piece of writing JT. You are writing that book, aren't you...?!
Yes, Robbert, you meant cherubs. The big blokes are the ArchAngels.
Phil, don't try that if you're driving. Later I remembered that I was given this a a form of self hypnosis since I can't be hypnotised. Talk about a control freak, I will not let go of my consciousness.
Helen, Bwca has been trying to get me to write a book for years but I can't do it. I admire authors who can put themselves in their stories but not me unless I write Fairy Stories where I've got a body like Elle, money to burn and I've robbed the Buckingham Palace vault for the jewells.
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