Following my hospitalisations, medical retirement and moving out of my unit I descended into chaos where I couldn't focus on anything and I drifted, fairly aimlessly, along with very little idea about what to do to try and help myself.
I think writing this blog has helped to crystallise a lot of my thoughts, and work through them by reducing them to writing. As I have been successfully able to maintain at least one post per week, I have found myself able to, little by little, turn my attention to other areas. I am keeping a to do list on my smart phone, and setting myself small but achievable tasks and goals. I can see, tiny but real, progress as I complete and tick off each one.
In my previous incarnation (as I describe my life prior the exacerbation of my disease), I would have scoffed at such a simple list of tasks and probably remark that I could complete a full week's worth of such items by mid-morning on the first day. Wow, how times have changed!
I haven't made much headway as regards my the next post in my Mechanised Man series, despite giving extensive thought to it. I think I have placed too much pressure on myself to make this post the definitive entry in the series (or least in Book One). Also I am coming up with a lot of thoughts on content, but I'm not jotting them down to retain them for when I start writing. I am also yet to settle on some issues of scope and direction, and I am also a little unsure about how far I want to go. I have no doubt I will get it done in the next few weeks, but I still need to think certain things through before writing begins.
But back to the boxing metaphor, I am surprised that I am rising from the canvas this time. I thought this time I was finished, that I didn't have the strength or inclination to pick myself up off the mat. I now think there must be an instinctual process that kicks in after allowing you some time to wallow in own despair and indignance. I think maybe this is another expression of the human instinct for self-preservation.
I have also begun to think quite deeply about what my basic needs and desires are as an individual, how they were met or not met in my previous incarnation and how they can be pursued and met, albeit sometimes in a different way, now in my present reality.
I think I will do a post on this in its own right. By writing about something, it helps me to better understand it and I think that there may be some value in taking a closer look at this whole area.
Yet I have a sense that I have reached a bit of a bottleneck, the ideas and themes that I wish to discuss on this blog continue to grow in number but I have found in the last fortnight that my (written) output has dropped off quite significantly. I originally had been a little worried about why this had occurred, but it isn't disinterest or lack of motivation. I think it is a resourcing (time) issue; I am spending more time on other aspects of my life, things that I had paid little attention to because of the depression I have felt in the last few years.
So almost paradoxically, through writing I have felt better about other things in my life which in turn has led to a reduction in my writing. This has been a collateral benefit, unforeseen. But whilst reducing my output, it must surely improve its quality because I am not drowning underneath an ocean of despair, regret and frustration. I have learnt to dog paddle.