four. fresh eyes
Time passed - I can't say much more about it than already has been said. Rest, rise, routine, repeat.
I was home for ages. In the past four years I hadn't spent more than 21 days at home any one time. I like having my own space, be master of my own destiny. It's got me this far somehow.
After hospital this was the place I was gonna call home now, my home. It was foreign, everything had carried on to spite me. I had spent two weeks trapped in amber.
I'd gotten quite used to my environment in the ward - Stockholm syndrome I s'pose. It sucked but it was consistent, something I never valued much, but I'd retained my sanity.
When I returned to my ma's I wanted to be back to the old normal, but I didn't rate my chances. I was tired a lot, but I didn't really do anything, resting all the time is exhausting. I smoked a lot to take the edge off, then drank a lot of coffee to put the edge back on. I was mentally drained in the same way I was in hospital.
I wanted to do something worth doing, I get that feeling a lot now. I feel like up until this point I haven't yet done the thing that makes having been here fucking things up for 24 years worth all the effort. I hadn't tried really - writing this is another exercise in trying to find that thing. I can't hunt or gather so I'll keep painting on the walls of the cave, hopefully someone will find this in a few thousand years and appreciate it's naive charm.
Before I started writing this I tried to hash this whole mad fuckery out in my own head - it took me until now to take it seriously.
Everyone gets a knock around now and again. But having shared with you I'm kinda seeing it with fresh eyes - as if it happened to someone else. Fuckin hell it sounds wild - apart from the lying down for 2 weeks bit.