I survived another birthday. I survived another year. I survived the changing of the leaves. I’m surviving the bipolar change in seasons so far. I’m surviving working.
I’ve been blessed to see my daughters grow and spend time with my loving husband.
I feel as if I’ve been able to begin healing relationships that need it, but I know there’s room for improvement. I know that I need to put more effort into additional healing, additional relationships.
I’ve just looked back on what I’ve written. It’s odd how I’m using the language, “I survived.” It’s odd that I chose to write about that, using that language, before I wrote about my family and relationships. Is that what pain has done to me in this past year? Has it really progressed that far again? I was going to write about something else but this probably tells me more about myself at this very moment than anything else I was planning to write. That’s a little bit jarring.
This post isn’t at all what I expected, so I think I may need to come back to the subject later. How odd. Forgive me.