My habit of ‘doing’ something, trying to force something that never comes out as I planned it, because it never can The more I push, the less things work.
I don’t know what to do, how to be etc. I’ve never known. If there was something I held dear, I’d have something to fight for.
We’re a long way from the daily grind of securing food and shelter, but still we complain. By ‘we’ I mean me and by ‘complain’ I mean whinge. A complaint seems to have more validity or weight to it than a whinge. Whinging seems more petty.
There is a pattern at work here. This generation repeating the roles of the last. I’m opting out. Mental health is being used as a reason for the request. My mental health isn’t great at the moment either.
Boundaries. Nothing is as simple as one thing or the other, but now it feels like my options are to be seen as the hysteric now or be seen as neglectful later.
Java has had a couple of other little dogs visit but only for a few hours. He hit them both on the nose when we weren’t watching. Thankfully, Coby’s humans are OK with Java showing Coby who is the boss.
I forgot I’m supposed to be learning boundaries and also ended up volunteering to help take them to swimming tomorrow and next day as well. It will take a couple of hours out of my day and it will give me a feeling of being involved in something. I’m concentrating on doing it for them.
I’ve done a couple of loads of washing, had breakfast, tidied up a little bit and am writing now all before 11am. I even plan to do some web project stuff today.
I’m well enough to know that I’m unwell enough to go to the professionals. Re-training myself to do nothing is, ironically, and all-consuming task. My cat is my inspiration.
I accuse my father of being selfish, but the whole time I was getting cranky because he might be embarrassing to me. How selfish is that.