Brave

Describing this as difficult week is a bit of an understatement.

Cathartic suits it better. A purging of everything  in preparation for the new to come in. I think this is a better way to look at the week. I know I've come out of it stronger, calmer and more hopeful than I would ever believe - which is great. That I've managed to achieve this with a modicum of grace and dignity also lends a bit to the week. That my wonderful support network have been there propping me up - even better.

Thing is, I know I'm not the only one doing it tough at the moment. Stories of illness, broken bones, arguments, acrimony, separations... it's a long list of not very-minor-grumbles. I look at what's going on with me, and though it is some big stuff, it appears to be the norm -which is both freaky and sad. 

I'm counting my blessings - and I think I'll be doing this for a while. For every curve ball that's been chucked at me, I've looked for the lesson, taken it on board and moved on.

Firstly, my contract finished up this week, which I'm seeing as a good thing there is an stuff that needs to be sorted about the place. The time it will take to get the next gig will mean I have some time to get this stuff properly. One of the things they don't tell you about work - it doesn't make time for some of the life things you need to get done - or writing time - or just planning and contemplation time. 

The next thing to come up was a blinding case of gastro. My first day of 'freedom' and I spend the day driving the porcelain bus. I felt a bit like the girl from the Exorcist - pump action vomit coming from heaven knows where for a while, followed by two days of utter listlessness. That was fun. With barely the energy to get to the kitchen to fetch a glass of flat lemonade, it was a wonderful time. Sam's cat, Tia, the perfect nurse, lay by my side for the two days I could barely get out of bed, keeping an eye on me in the only way a cat can. 

Nursey Puss doing her stuff

Thankfully, the gastro giver was located. Chance, one of Blarney and Barney's twins was to thank. He also passed in this lovely bout of the spews and runs to his mother and father at exactly the same time as I got them. Three days on and we three adults are mended, though our stomachs are still rumbling a little. My appetite is still to fully return, though the loss of two kilograms is delighting me somewhat. I wonder what he'll pass on next time - pink eye? TB? Ebola? 

The last, and probably biggest kicker of the week went down this morning. A conversation held fifteen years too late. A conversation that was always going to be held, but did not, and could not have happened then.

I can't and won't go into details about what went down - but after an hour of feeling the full brunt of somebody's hurt, pain and anger, it was time admit defeat. Nothing can be done about the situation. It was fifteen years ago. We have never spoken of what happened with this person to this extent until now. But it needed to be said - it needed to get out. I'm thankful I've dealt with what happened through various means. It was obvious the other party hadn't. I'm just hoping that getting all of the emotion out helps them heal.

So yeah, it's been a tough week - a really tough week - but the blessings of the week shine through.

For starters, I've learned a lot of lessons. The biggest one being never hug a two-year-old with gastro. The other lessons are just as big and far more subtle and less likely to have the consequences quelled with bleach after.

Secondly, my support network have been wonderful. Props and crutches and offers of bottles of flat lemonade - kind words and friendly smiles - just what one needs when part of you thinks your world is falling around your ears. Today, after the talk, Jonella took me out of coffee and cake and listened without judgement - also truly needed - and gratefully received.

Lastly, I'm managed to get through the week without a serious breakdown, depression or tantrum. My head has remained on my shoulders and I've walked this mess, at times tentatively, but I've managed to stay strong and upright. It appears all the work I've been doing over the past few years is working. Gotta give myself some credit for that.

I'm just hoping the curse of midwinter is over and now, with the lengthening days that some good things starts coming my way. For everything that's gone down over the last couple of days, I'm not sure what else could be flung at me. I'm really hoping that was the end of the Midwinter crap.

It's been pure catharsis. Now is the time to rebuild. A time to make new plans. A time to dream big and go for it.

For a start - just to start the process, I'm going to take myself off to see "Brave", the new Pixar film. I love Pixar. I love kid's film. And somehow, a film a bout a stroppy redhead who bucks the system and goes after what she wants is just the medicine that my recently frazzled and newly purged soul requires.