A mini-me update:
I've been feeling entirely more Me in the last few months. Haven't really said much more than little obnoxious asides on Life & Me.
Four years I've been living under new 'management'. PTSD & ME has been a liaison I wish no one to share. I forget. I'm scattered. I'm moody as a prepubescent girl. I am eagerly distracted (no, that wasn't autocorrect "eagerly distracted").
My closest and best therapy has been Scooter. He helped me learn focus and that little things really ARE the big things.
I've gained a few insights on myself. A big one is that I spent a very log time practicing medicine. With that came the internal dialog, external dialog, global survey, assessing current physiological status of everyone around me to know if/who was capable of maintaining the forward momentum that dictated every aspect of my career. This multitasking thought process is an ability I am sure many are aware of. However, fractured brains that KNOW only this thought process require a multitasking in healing/entertainment/silencing/measuring/growing/sealing simultaneously.
I have researched history. Moved backwards, Nixon, Franklin (my Fav), Vikings, Rome, Greece, Huns, Silk Road, etc....Egypt has been a long time favorite. As have the Aztecs (thanks, Ma).
I have begun a slow and steady nurture in the yard. Removing the locals deadly (to me) insects by drawing in insect eating birds. Supplementing the soil this season with my prolific marigolds.
Leading my rowdy canine down the path of Peace. So she can help remind me to center (for this, I deeply miss Monster Berry Pie).
I spend a few hours everyday creating. Solid goals ahead of me with deadlines. I am making them. I am pleased.
I have found if I have little interest, I give it no attention. None. Delete. Moving On.
I've revamped the Blog I haven't touched in a coons age. I have a few goals with that as well.
I MUST multitask. My brain has no choice. It's just how it works. I can sew for hours, but I need a nature documentary on head phones droning on. I can type thoughts out quite clearly, but I need music to move the words.
There is more. There will be more. I have goals. I make small ones. One step in a process (today I am cleaning out THIS cupboard). I must then STOP. Clean up my mess. And then I can go do something else. Two hour blocks of time. The length of an average 9-1-1 call.
Beginning. Middle. End.
Welcome Aboard, the train is now leaving the station. If I don't LOVE it, it's donated.