Some people believe I'm quite good with words. Good enough to be published twice. Good enough for nearly 32,000 hits on here. Good enough that some claim I have helped many students through my words.
In my darkness that afflicted my 20s few other than Caroline the healer ever found words to help me. I was so disillusioned with "therapy" as it hadn't worked and was then turned round on me. Effectively they told me you are the problem not madness. In my disillusioned state I firmly believed that salvation could only come in the form of pills. Despite waiting a decade I did find the pills in the end.
My career such as it is has been driven by a raging anger to prove to them that my whole life was not a delusion. I was not a narcissist. And I am intelligent. After more than a decade working with words in the last few months I had lost faith in my own words. Disillusion haunts my every day. Yet on I went.
Despite my fear I returned to work yesterday. I had no confidence and was so anxious that I feared I would not make it through the day. Not much happened. Then today came and I had to find words. And those words came, came in their torrents and a connection was made. For that I am thankful. I had to be at my best in the most difficult of circumstances. I do not think I was found wanting. Is faith restored? Maybe. But I did it.
The price I pay is exhaustion. Once again I'm drawn to me default of Yang and the Fu Hao. I can't think enough to cook myself.
I Heard a Voice.
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