I am back to blogging from home. It is now grey-weather winter and the semi-lockdown has re-arrived. I can only attend Starbucks for a pick-up. Simon, Brandon, Jorge and the girls (Alex, Large Blonde – who impresses me with her brightness – and Brunette – who has my tea ready when she sees me across the parking lot) shout out to me in the drive -through as I whisk by, sad of eye. I feel pressed to move along against the “Please! sit-and-write.” of previous days. I am moderately addicted to the anti-depressants. I spend far too much time scrolling social media and drowning in the news. As a result, I have tried to find time for preparing my manuscript for publishing but can’t seem to find energy. I can’t go a day or two without a pill and not have a stress incident of some kind. Speaking of medication, the vaccine is on it’s way but likely won’t be here in the quantities needed until next September. Sigh.
In spite of all this, I am changing my style an almost imperceptible bit. I think I am healing but the truth remains to be certified. Maybe we need a larger sample group. But…lately, when an incident starts to swamp me…I laugh. It’s a small moment that readjusts the thinking. For example, I was in the kitchen (a very common place for me these days at 255 lbs?) and I was getting frustrated. I spilled water, dropped a cup then kept misplacing a tea towel… I stopped in mid-panic and smiled at the ludicrous situation. All things were going in the opposite of my desired direction. I paused. I grunted my appreciation of the humour. The stress lifted. I went on about my business.
When everything piles up, I am paused in my ‘frozen moment’. I can’t move, think, breathe a second or two from time to time but a snort of amusement thaws me. Is it this way – was it this way, always, during wars, famine, collapse? Did the romans snort a quick laugh as Vesuvius rained down on their vacation homes? Did General Custer say, “Ooops, my bad”, as the knife slid across his throat? I should do some research. I will have to look it up on-line since my parents are now gone and I can’t ask them. They got out while the getting was good. Ha. “Dr. Google? what the h is goin’ on?”
Robert On The Air 