Recovery, Part 2

Life appears to have returned to normal. Life is filled with the same things as before. Some things have changed, but all in all it is balancing itself out. Love has increased. Hate has increased. So they are still in equal proportions as before. Is it impossible to love something more without then liking something else even a little less? Do they go hand in hand, or is it purely coincidental?

When I got out of hospital I was more sure than ever I was on the right course. I didn't doubt myself, or those around me. It's funny how people can say one thing, planting a seed without even realising it, and then you start to doubt. This doubt is harder than any I've had before. I don't doubt myself; I'm more sure than I ever was. I know who I am and how I feel.

It was scary enough before; having just put myself out there. But my words were met in kind, and the world was falling into place. Now my words are still met in kind - but there's something else there, too.

So what am I to do? Do I carry on, and wait until one day you seem to definitively decide you'll stay or go - in a convincing fashion? Or do I drag you to that point now - and risk pushing you either way?

Recovery, Part 1

I feel the need to write. My life has changed. It's different. But it's still exactly the same. I'm still lost. I still have no direction. I still have choices to make. I'm still confused. Indifferent. Vague. Scared.

But I'm not scared. I had a tumour. It's gone now. It might come back. I'll deal with that then. Now I'm dealing with my recovery. It's slow and it's hard. It's frustrating. Not being able to do simple things. Like get out of bed by myself. Not being able to lie down by myself. Having to sit in the same position every day. Not being able to stand up straight. Not being able to walk more than 200 metres at a time. Not being able to sleep. Some times being unable to bring myself to eat anything. Do anything.

But it's still better now than it was before. I was scared I wouldn't wake up. I was scared of waking up after. The pain. I'd never been to hospital before. Now I've had major surgery.
I got through it. It was easier than I thought it would be. Physically. Emotionally, it was harder than I thought it would be. I'm willing time to move faster - begging it to fly by. I want... I want to do more than sitting at home day after day. I want to feel useful.

Comfort.

I forgot to mention.

I'm trying to think of ways to describe how I feel right now.
I'm freaking out, I'm stressing and I have a million things to do.
At the same time I'm happy. I have something I'm almost sure I won't lose, but at the same time you worry every now and then that it might slip away and you'll have no power with which to keep it from doing so.

All these things running through my head. But still, one overriding thought... At least it's a good one.

Anyway. I think for now, the way I feel is best described by the following picture.
I don't know which one I am, but I know it doesn't matter.

Soldiering on

I haven't written in a long time. I haven't sat down and let my thoughts take me on a bit of a journey. A thoughtless journey, but all the same I haven't let my mind wonder free for quite some time.

Truth be told, I don't have an outlet to do so any more. I used to have a few, but I left them all.

Now my mind feels cluttered. It's filled with so much junk. Some of it I need to function, but the rest... The rest is taking up space. The thoughts I do need don't have enough room to roam free! I need my space back.

The question is: How?