Shh!
The clarity is coming in infrequent wafts. I had one yesterday when sleep deprived enough to calm the mania, and was able to sit at my book and think what it would look like from the other side. What I saw was a bit scary. There are still thousands of miles between my mind and what I would consider normal. What used to be normal, for me. In that gust of clarity I perceived the continuous problem-solving and mental chatter as what they were; disturbances, efforts to deal with IT. I think my therapist is right. A period of 'wordlessness' is what I need to get closer to the state that is required for basic functioning.
In the spirit of this, I won't be writing much. D is in bed, sick I'm off for the christmas break and though struggling financially, still keeping basically afloat. I've got D to agree on some terms for having children, though I still have no real passion for the idea of doing it save that it will make sure I have a legacy and am not missing out. Otherwise it looks terribly boring at best, and frightening at worst.
I had an idea that I like for better respecting one's body; Give your injuries names. They all say 'be kind' to your body and 'be kind' to yourself. But that's all too abstract for me so I named my hip injury Deborah. Now it feels perfectly natural to say Deborah needs a rest. Or, Deborah is almost back to normal, but could use a massage.