Monday, 7 June 2010

Back To Work & Random Musings

Train, morning.

Back to work. June 7th, 2010. First day since December 2007. First day dangling up in the ethereal godspace of church towers since September 2007. Over two and a half years. My god it feels good, striding down the sunny street, head high and a bounce in my toes.

I suppose looking at the bare facts of the last two months I could be accused of exhibiting mild symptoms of hypomania. Finished my twenty-year old marriage, found new love, energy, less need for sleep, occasional stressy breakdowns, running over hills and mountains barefoot, swimming in freezing lakes (so what is new, I hear you ask... precisely, I reply...), inappropriate risk-taking I suppose. Nothing that cannot be better accounted for than the summer, freedom, and love.

Life is still difficult. Was assaulted on my doorstep on Saturday by the shrieking banshee that is my ex. Had to throw her out and threaten to call the police if she behaved like that again. And my children are being used as weapons against me. Sadness and regret are sometimes overpowering where they are concerned. But I feel no guilt, no shame. I've made a healthy decision for once in my misbegotten life, and by hell I feel healthy with it.

Sometimes it is better to stop bailing and abandon ship. The water is often warmer than it looks.

Life is lived at many levels. Think of a stack of plates, or tiles, or a victoria sponge, multi-layered, tectonic slabs, greased with every variety of jam the Womens Institute can muster; or the painted arcana of the tarot pack, slipping and sliding in motions both complimentary and contradictory, antagonistic, skewed, shrewd, and twisted and straight. Most people only see the top card of the stack. Others are aware of all of the undercurrents, the undertow, the reversed-tide, the treachery of false water, the twin rivers of certitude and doubt. Perhaps that is why faced with this plethora of choices and acknowledged motives and influences, we find it too easy to stick at stasis. Action can become impossible when faced knowingly with a multitude of possible actions and interpretations. Yet not-to-act is an action of its own sort, too. So act, and the world can go to the devil, and to hell with it!

Train, evening.

Well it felt as if I had never been away from the ropes for all that time. I remembered everything: all the knots, safety checks, best practice, procedure, - everything was there, instinctive, innate.

I got over the parapet without feeling the flutter of a single butterfly, and gazed down at the yawning space below with a smile that I'd use to greet an old friend. Did I say it was as if I had never been away?

Somewhat knackered physically: it takes a lot out of your stomach muscles dangling in a harness all day, but pretty damn satisfied with myself.

It makes me wonder now if I was ever ill. Yes, there have been many times when I wouldn't trust myself to go anywhere near a hard object, let alone a high church tower, but all that is by-the-by, in the past, done and dusted, forever, I hope.

I remember around the bad time in 2008 realising that I could always leave my intolerable (as it was then too, most insistently) marriage rather than exit in a rather mortal fashion (oh so strange how suicide can be more attractive than giving up - illogical I know). Now I have left I don't feel fucking ill in the slightest. What is going on? What went on? Misdiagnosis? If I haven't lost it now, during current events, I don't believe I'll ever lose it again, never, ever, ever, never. Touch wood.

Keep safe all, Dx


la said...

How did you get insurance?

tweednut said...


It's being sorted.



p.s. Did you see the new Wernweekend post?

la said...

Mais non. Direct me, pls.

differentlysane said...

Glad it went well. It's funny how some abilities do just seem to come back no matter how long the gap between it last being used...

Take care,

tweednut said...