QUIETLY ONCE MORE

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IZZY’S PUMPKIN SOUP A FEW YEARS BACK

Izzy was vegetarian. Had been since he was 18 in the original hippy days. I didn’t eat meat while I was with him and he didn’t drink alcohol or take drugs. Fair exchange.

He grew vegetables and cooked pumpkin soup. And we DID things and we went places.

I do think I am reaching a new place in my Recovery from the Grief and Illness. I do not know what that place is nor what it is called but I feel different.

Today, it was another Bed Day. That followed a 3am party with full band down the road 2 doors. I wasn’t at the Party – just battered by the noise. Then today, there was a domestic next door involving blood and police and ambulance and grog. Once again – I was not involved – just battered by the sight of blood and rage.   This is not quite what I had planned.

Ah well. Not bored anyways.

I still find the confusion of managing my daily affairs amongst illness and grief is a “challenge”. Therefore, I keep simplifying. The only dimension which seems better is that I am not being emotionally buffeted by it so much and not allowing things to get too big.

LET GO THE CONTROL AND THE RIGIDITY

IZZY FOREAL

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TALKING THINGS OVER WITH AN EMU AT POTOROO PALACE DOWN SOUTH. 

Now there is an earthquake in New Zealand. Its a shimmery old week. JB used to say that – things are beginning to shimmer. But not for me. Not for me tonight. I am feeling quite steady. Maybe its because of enough meetings.

Bed soon and more Ebor water. Just to say thank you. When I woke from the Coma I was so very thirsty but I was intubated, and unable to speak or move or ingest. That was horrid. The first sip of water that I was given was like something from Heaven. I still recall the feeling when I have a glass of water. 

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Bed. Because its all gone. All security. All solid ground. All gone.So many years of struggling on my own and then came Izzy and I had love and support and plenty of money  but in a flash it was all gone. The company, the support, the adventuring, the music. So – when I woke up from Coma – he was gone.When I make decisions with my poor bruised body and mind, I am on my own.  No wonder the nights are so sleepless. It no longer really matters to anyone whether I live or die. Often – it doesn’t matter to me either.

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