the sun and beign not crazy
I spent 5 years under a wet blanket. A wet blanket made of Not-Crazy-Meds™. In the beginning I needed it to quench the wildfire raging thru my brain, then to help smother the last cinders threatening to reignite. I needed it and I am very lucky not only that it was there but, that some dear people pointed out that I might want to crawl under it. Before I was destroyed or they strangled me. A completely justified action by the by.
There comes a point that the fires are out and the soggy ground wants to try growing again except this wet blanket...thing. This heavy, wet blanket that deadens the breeze across my skin and the sound of laughter and the joy and chaos of the being. That very needed wet blanket that's still there cause there might be embers even at this late date. Might be. Could be.
So I am dropping the wet blanket and crawling back out into the sun. It's a little brighter, and I'm a little sharper on the edges and some of those embers look like they might start glowing again. For now though...I get to see the sun.
There comes a point that the fires are out and the soggy ground wants to try growing again except this wet blanket...thing. This heavy, wet blanket that deadens the breeze across my skin and the sound of laughter and the joy and chaos of the being. That very needed wet blanket that's still there cause there might be embers even at this late date. Might be. Could be.
So I am dropping the wet blanket and crawling back out into the sun. It's a little brighter, and I'm a little sharper on the edges and some of those embers look like they might start glowing again. For now though...I get to see the sun.