Haven’t been bothered to write anything here for a week or so. 2018 has been relentlessly difficult and so I feel no shame in having circled my metaphorical wagons and just having allowed myself to regroup.
This year so far has been bullet pointed by illness, tragedy and unfortunately deaths. In my immediate family. And in those of the people that really matter to me. Despite my “Always Tomorrow” sort of outlook, I might have to admit to feeling occasionally just totally fucking defeated. Not really the happiest of bunnies right now.
But it does seem human enough to sometimes want the perpetual emotional poverty of this year to end. I don’t think there’s anything wrong with acknowledging that I sometimes feel beaten.
I’ve loads to look forward to though. I’m still building back torched bridges with family. Nights out are circled in the diary with decades old friends that help me make sense of it all. So plans for some sort of future are at the very forefront of things.
I totally know his shitty month will end. And I’ll still probably be picking myself up at the end of the next one. Because that’s just what Scottish folk do. In my defence, I already saw myself most of the way through May. I’ve been up and down and over and out. But being back in the race is certainly doable. Because today I have a day off from everything. And the phasers are set to Fun. Monday is fucking cancelled though. Possibly Tuesday. Wednesday is on standby only.