Friday, October 16, 2009

I look back at all the strange posts I've been making to you, Bloggy. There's only one explanation. I have too much time on my hands to think and analyse even the smallest things. I can't help it. I'm nervy, unsettled and emotionally adrift so far from my loved ones. I'm so tightly wound up, yet I don't have much I need to do.

Outcome of this extraneous bit of analysis: get more busy.
Dangers of not doing this: The 'what was I thinking' groan that will inevitably come once the phase passes. Also, the very real fear that I could become depressed and listless. It would be inexcusable. I have nothing to be depressed about.
Risks: Treating the symptom by keeping myself busy. May not be addressing the root cause of the problem, whatever that may be.
Hopes: I can feel myself winning. There's a reason why I keep writing in you about all of this. It's because I am actively fighting every tendency against regaining my balanced moods and self.
Pitfalls: The way up and out is sticky and dirty. I am really my own worst enemy. Noone could willingly do worse for myself than I would if I lost any sense.
Aims:
That I can judge myself by my own scale and won't get blown around by praise or damnation
That I will be at peace with being myself and being by myself
That I will be able to choose the influence people will have on me
What I've done well so far: Kept my balance despite the everything, despite my nerves and loneliness. I've worked hard, not slacked, not given in to self pity. I haven't let myself go.



Set me free why don't you, baby