I am now on day three since my surgery. I am having what my father referred to as the "Heebie Jeebies". This is a collection of frights, worries and regrets crawling out from under the bed and various psychological closets from the swampy places in my poor brain. Influenced, no doubt, by the strange cocktails I have recieved to knock me senseless.
Why does this silliness take the shape of guilt and regret?
I have been a horrible person only occassionally in my life. It isn't a general habit. I try like everyone else to cover my"swamp thing" self and give it a scrub and dress it up in my Sunday best. It just keeps oozing out today. Seeping on it's pastel coverings. Staining whatever it touches.
I have been sick for a few years and have been dealing with pain. Sometimes I am just dealing with the memories of being sick and having pain. Sometimes I am just procrastinating my life away.
Today I will get up and read one thing. I will visit a new set of imagery and I will make a tiny.
Just one tiny object and finish it. Tomorrow I will make a bigger thing or another tiny thing and finish it. Tomorrow I can rip and tear.
Now I will try to get some rest and chase away that "Heebie Jeebie" and try to be nicer to Tim so it doesn't land on him!
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