It is hard to believe that 2 and a 1/2 years have passed since mum's funeral. I have looked back on the blog many times to that period of our lives. I repeated myself often and talked incessantly on my fear of delivering the eulogy. Apart from some of the older brethren struggling to hear it was a spine tingling performance, maybe amongst the best public talks I have ever given.
As I sit in my flat fighting off overwhelming anxiety I am constantly reminded of mum's desperate battle against crippling anxiety. Life has all become too much for me in recent weeks. When I awoke to try to get up for work about 7.30 this morning I quite literally could not get out of bed. Some 45 minutes later I struggled to the phone and see the blurred diary I called in sick.
A few things have fallen into place today that I hope will stave off this terrible feeling. Yet I remain desperately tired. Beka thinks I should go and see my Doctor but I know he will sign me off. I don't want that.
So as I crawl through each hour my guide is the Messiah. That features in my eulogy too. Apart from that I have achieved nothing all day. My friends give the best advice but still it comes at me in waves. I know it will right itself sooner or later but right now I feel it will never pass.
I Heard a voice.
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