Rare is the day I get deceived by who people are. I've made a living getting inside people's heads. Some have described me as a mind reader, someone who can see into their souls. Not my words but the words of others.
My recent malaise, depression, intrusive thoughts, fear and doubt is as it transpires the result of a deep deception. I try to be kind and supportive to everyone but that kindness can be used by some. As someone said on Friday your kindness has been weaponised and used against you.
Knowing many people can be helpful though. And some can say things that instantly diminish the emotional pain. It took a while coming but it is diminished. Not that I feel great but better than I did. Do not trust too much; too dangerous.
Battered and bruised I'm working my way through Sunday morning. It's a nothing kind of day outside. Mild though. Inside I'm listening to Tosca and preparing to cook roast beef.
After a week of doing nothing but online mandatory training and some of it was pretty harrowing and emotionally draining. Triggering is not a word I like but how shall I put it, caused flashbacks and brought back the shame of old. Next week my diary has some structure.
Back in Kent preparation for dad's birthday in mid March. Restaurant is booked, Miriam and Nigel have booked to stay and an invitation has been extended to Beka.
Must get on with lunch preparations.
I Heard a Voice.
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