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Wibble

In the rather fabulous word of Blackadder: "Wibble".  Choosing to be mad.  Because reality is scary.
 


This was a really good week.  I slept almost normally.  I smiled and laughed.  I rearranged furniture.  Showered.  Deliberately left the house - on my own - for no other reason than I wanted to.  Yup.  A good week.

For the first time in a long time, I feel like I'm getting somewhere.  The scary part; is that getting somewhere, means dealing with things outside of my bubble. 


This week has also seen a broadening of awareness.  I've begun to think about further away than tomorrow, or this weekend.  Am I ready to think about leaving the secure bosom of family?  Can I trust myself to be out there alone again? 

The 'what if's' are looming.  They're scary.  Because I know how quickly and easily a bad few days can turn into a cavernous depth I can't get out of alone. 

All of which means, that this week; I'm choosing to say "Wibble".  I'm aware that reality is frightening, and I'm not quite ready to face it.  In times gone by, I would make a decision and move toward it immediately. 

Today, I'm aware that I need to check that I'm as ok as I think I am.  I have to consider all the 'what ifs', and make sure that when the Depression surfaces, I can make smart choices.  But, I've been here before.  I've had a few good periods in the last year, and they felt like genuine progress too; only to fall back into the pit of despair, and have to start again.  I'm scared to hope, yet I know this really COULD be the time I manage to keep moving forward.... . leaving me stuck in the 'don't get your hopes up / don't assume you'll fail' loop of paradox.


Fingers crossed.

Derri.
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