Gratitude for the wet fern and other things as the nightmares are realised sooner than thought..

Things are getting worse. I hear my name call, shouting in a way . I run. I feel stone inside, still, that there will be no temporary break, that I will be expected to do more of the duties which I cannot do, or to find the emotional intelligence to manage the increased suffering.

I feel sick. I don't sleep. .

Part of me is staying away from the rest. Trying to be logical, to say hey.. you are reacting violently to the change. You knew it was coming.

So distractions.  Random things to also think about with the suffering.

Gratitude for the rain, for the rain makes the ferns and so grow nicely , and the wet ferns could make nice pictures for blogs.

Gratitude for the young woman and the young man who laughed at things I said.

Gratitude for the young man who laughed with me at the changing circumstances. GPL ended the conversation.

Gratitude for the woman selling pineapple. The pineapple was bad, I did not curse as much as I would have done. She asked where I had been and so and was willing to listen as I gave her all the gory details.

Gratitude for the woman calling me late at night while I curled up thinking of the end of the life that I knew,  wondering what the hell would happen to me.. how I would manage. "Sorry to call you late, but is only you could give me this information now.. " and me laughing and thinking that the woman has remained the same in the 7 years since I met her but she sings less now.

Gratitude for the brilliant woman from 25 years ago, recovering from mental illness, calling to say hello and to talk about work and not working.

 Gratitude for the dysfunctional love - sending the email to the loved one who had done amazing work. Even though the loved one was clear.. it is over. And I know the emails are going into the void. But sending anyway.. gratitude that I can think of the loved one with love, and sadness rather than hate and yearning.

Gratitude for the unexpected message from the man who saw my letter to the editor, also dealing with mental health issues, but managing not to harm anyone or himself.

Gratitude for the ability to write this. To know that as I write this, that I am trying not to write of the fatigue and fear, the grief at the multiple losses , the anger at not being resilient and not being organised.  Gratitude for knowing and being aware so that I could try fixing as much as I could. And not be bothered by the things I cannot fix.