Writing this blog is so damn therapeutic. I may never need to see a psychiatrist again. I’ve started to feel a lot more…complete, finished, round. I suppose I have a lot of stuff to work out – the last few years haven’t been kind. I forgot how writing is a real pleasure, a real friend to me. (Actually, I never really ‘forgot’, I suppose I just wilfully starved myself of pleasurable things for a while.)
Oh, it’s nice to sit down with lunch and poke the nose of optimism. Not feeling tearful today.