Once again Sunday is upon us. And for the third Sunday in a row it is accompanied by chronic shaking. My anxiety has been simmering since a Friday setback. That day I paid the price of medication leaving me in a state of confusion.
Tomorrow I must go back and pick up what I left off. It feels difficult to judge how I'm doing, conflicting messages are precisely that.
As surely as the morrow will come I must enjoy this sunny day of rest. The Magic Flute accompanies my morning, I have read the paper and I'm looking forward to cooking roast belly pork for dinner.
Miriam and Nigel went to Glyndebourne in the week then drove on over to Kent to spend the weekend with dad. Beka joined them for a curry last night.
With luck I too should be in Kent in a couple of weeks. Be lovely to see the sea again. Let's just hope the fear doesn't follow me down there. Can't have my holiday spoilt by irrationally ridiculous anxiety.
I Heard a Voice.
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