all things must pass
There are too many anniversaries at the moment. It's unnerving. Nostalgia and regret keep rearing up and slapping me, and I find myself dissolving at minor triggers. Pictures of trees. 15 year old memories of weeding. Songs I never really liked. In addition anything even remotely romantic on the TV has me sobbing all over my dinner. Not ideal. Did I tell someone the other day that I had my head back above the water? How often this statement disproves itself: I ought to give up making it.
In the middle of all this I act super-functional - change the house insurance, my broadband provider, plant window boxes, hoover, cook, move plants in the garden. There's a battle for supremacy out there between the snails and the bindweed, and it's neck and neck, a little like my incremental recovery. Two steps forward, one-and-a-half back. I am impatient. Let it be over now.
Here is something I didn't draw, though I rather wish I had. Reproduced entirely without permission (sorry Graham).
In the middle of all this I act super-functional - change the house insurance, my broadband provider, plant window boxes, hoover, cook, move plants in the garden. There's a battle for supremacy out there between the snails and the bindweed, and it's neck and neck, a little like my incremental recovery. Two steps forward, one-and-a-half back. I am impatient. Let it be over now.
Here is something I didn't draw, though I rather wish I had. Reproduced entirely without permission (sorry Graham).
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