Day 13

And it was only in nature that she saw them. It was never from peering out the window or walking down the street. She knew that in order to see them, she had  to make that effort. The walk was quiet, up the hill and past all the townhouses with their chimney’s smoking and up through the snicket. The woodlands was alive with birdsong, the air filled with magic and secrets.

And it was here, always here, that she saw them.

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Day 8

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And as the carriage sidles up to the door, the wheel snags on the cobbles. The lone passenger corrects his hat, moving it back down over his eyes, slanted slightly to one side. Moving his hand, he reaches through the carriage window for the door handle. There is only one thought running through his mind as his foot finally hits familiar cobble: home.  

Triumphant (REDJanuary)

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Along this road, there is a school. A school that left with enough trauma that I have not been able to walk by it since I left at age 12.

Despite many attempts and the support of a friend – it was just never something I could do without extreme anxiety.

Today though, I smashed it!

5,700 steps later, I felt triumphant! 

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Much Better

DSC_0213.JPGI miss my camera. My big, pain in the arse, bulky camera. I miss photography.

I chose not to bring my camera with me, to protect it from damage and potential break-ins.

I miss Sunday morning strolls.

I realised, rather late, that these are things to be easily rectified. I have a camera on my phone and the only thing stopping me having a stroll is me and my lack of motivation.

This morning I took a stroll, I took photographs and I feel so much better now.

I feel like equilibrium has returned to my life. I am now standing with both feet central on the ground.

Much better.

 

…But Not Too Much

I decided I need to treat this place as though it is home because that is exactly what it is now. For the last couple of weeks, I have walked around and ventured to different areas without much thought.

At home, I used to go out for a Pepsi, sit and relax and enjoy the calmness.
At home, I used to go out for a Pepsi and sit and people watch.

This is home for me now and I have settled better than I had ever expected myself to – my first time living away from my family home and my family is not as frightening as expected.

I need to treat this place as though it is home… but not too much. Home is where I got sick, where I failed constantly to try and recover and repair myself. Home is a place where I lost too many things, too many people. Home is full of memories that I cannot escape from – people I cannot escape from.

Now it is time to start living like I want to. In the present.

Time to start living how I always have done. With strength.

Time to start moving.

Time to find Costa…

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Inspiration is Everywhere

pink-amas-live-2012-billboard-1548( https://www.billboard.com/articles/events/amas/8039126/pink-amas-performance-2012-try-best-list )

40th+American+Music+Awards+Show+Rr-qwxm2oJWx( http://www.zimbio.com/photos/Pink/40th+American+Music+Awards+Show/Rr-qwxm2oJw )

Swan-Lake-3D-3( http://yewon.myblog.arts.ac.uk/2014/01/27/matthew-bournes-swan-lake/ )

sl1( https://www.broadwayworld.com/article/Bournes-SWAN-LAKE-Returns-to-New-York-NY-City-Center-Oct-13-Nov-17-20100831-page8 )

stillife_1-1500x1000( https://iso.500px.com/tag/still-life/page/2/ )

shutterstock_329614487( http://zenfulspirit.com/2017/05/17/the-science-of-forgiveness/ )

As always – credit where credit is due. None of these images belong to me.
Be respectful of other’s art and reference them.
xoxo. 

 

 

TRIGGER WARNING

9 years and not a scratch. It never goes away – the thought. It follows me everywhere. Perhaps not every day, but on the bad days. On the days where I don’t wish to speak or communicate, I reach for the blade. Holding it in my palm, I feel the scratch upon my skin. Never again. Do NOT. Holding it helps, feeling the blade without any actual harm. My brain is fighting against itself.

Do it.

No. Do not.

For 9 years, I have managed. I have found strength I did not know I had.

One day at a time.