Trying to find my… I don’t know next path/ purpose/ quest… or just getting my “sea legs“ back under me.
A month and a half after the BCInvasion & i am still physically, mentally, and – especially emotionally – drained.
(Reminding myself that yes, you are dealing with a chronic and complex illness which, despite all kinds of recent attention, really doesn’t have a pathway forward as of yet so i continue to experiment blah blah blah) #MECFS
Everything with my wonderful wife and darling son is great, i’m getting all sorts of medical care, my immigration status will eventually get sorted out… but for whatever reason, feeling lost, depleted, disoriented, and very very blue.
So after a seitai treatment and a conversation with the kindly doctor, snuck into a quirky, jazz-filled and calm coffee shop called Gloss and went back to my usual therapy routine of simultaneously hydrating and caffeinating while writing a variety of postcards to folks i know, folks don’t know, folks who have sent kind things to me, folks who need a kind word and whatnot.
I’ll be all right eventually, just need to lay flat for a long while, yet there is always something that needs done, logistically or otherwise.
Bonus: quick snapshots of the postcards just dropped in the mailbox (while returning with my squadron of companions realized I forgot a couple but hey… im *trying*) – anyhow, i often take snapshots of the fronts and backs for my own archival inconvenience as well as a digital back-up in case the cards don’t arrive but never really get far down that road – yeah i make lists and keep logs of letters sent and received and then immediately forget where aforementioned lists exists.
A little variety: some made, some purchased, some acquired in ways i don’t recall / none have return address stamps but definitelydo have exquisitely-chosen postal stamps
