On ice

What kind of fuckery is this? Thought I’d kick off the week in the loveliest way I know: with a run in the park. And what a glorious morning too, the early morning sky a pink hue and the cold snap of last week over so a little milder and gone too were the winds brought by storm Arwen. I had my booster jab a week ago and although I don’t know for sure if this was the reason my energy levels were at a low for days, I felt much stronger again and was SO looking forward to a lap around the park. Music in my ears and off I went. Barely half a kilometre into the park there were deer wandering across the main path so I decided to head off down a smaller track to leave them in peace, and this is where I noticed a slightly painful cramp in my right calf. The sensible thing to do here would have been to stop and stretch a little and then maybe walk for a while to warm up a bit, but I was so annoyed at the crappy runs I’ve had the previous week that I refused and instead stubbornly continued because I was going to enjoy a long run come hell or high water. Minutes later down the muddy, slippery track hell caught up with me and my calf just seized up so hard it made me stumble. I hobbled back home and here I am now on the sofa, where Hubby ordered me to sit with my leg elevated and calf resting against an ice pack. Grr.

I don’t know when to stop and even when I do I bloody don’t. The irony isn’t lost on anyone, I imagine.

A good friend of mine, who I have called Willow on this blog when I’ve mentioned her, has created a fantastic TikTok series of clips where she talks about death and dying. She is a hospice nurse and what she’s doing is fantastic, plus she does it really well. I’m toying with the idea of doing something similar but around addiction and recovery. Problem is I don’t like being in front of people or the centre of attention so it seems, even to me, a slightly strange idea. However, it is and always has been, my goal to speak loudly about my experience as addiction – like death and dying – is one of those subjects we seem to hide and hush down like we’re too scared of it. Who knows, the idea is percolating and maybe I just need to get over myself, do what the hell I like and not care so much about my faulty alarm system.

Speaking of which, I am getting a better handle on the panic signals my brain sends me. I’m also getting better at spotting bad energy when it comes my way. These days I am much better at closing the door on people and things that are no good for me or who have no business darkening my existence, but once in a while some f*cktard slips through the net and so I’ve spent the past few days looking over my boundaries and reinforced the fencing here and there. Because I’m quite a naive and very trusting soul, I am especially prone to being fooled by the more conniving type of individual – the sort that disguises their shitty-ness with appearing overly nice and kind. Even insults are carefully wrapped up to the point where they almost sound like compliments. Not having that rubbish in my life, but as luck would have it there is a situation where I have no choice but to get along and function with one of these mood killers, so I’m doing my best not to let the dark shit they tease out in me linger beyond what I absolutely have to put up with, which I intend to keep to a bare minimum.

Being a quiet person who prefers to hold back and observe probably sometimes gives the impression that I’m an easy target, but it’s different now – it feels like my eyes have been opened and I’m less likely to fall for bullshit these days – and I’ve been taken for a few rides too many to entertain it again. That’s all well and good I suppose, but I still have work to do as to how much I allow it to affect me. In a way it’s worse when you think it’s a friend and not a foe, it’s just seems colder and so much more manipulative when someone acts the saint. That’s what this person does – a complete and utterly maddening dichotomy of saccharine and viciousness. No thank you. Go shit on your own doorstep, mine is sparkling clean for the holidays.

Yes, I am in a stinking mood, but guess what? I’m nearly four years sober and life is pretty damn awesome! I hold the power here and so shitty things and people are shown the door and cramping muscles are elevated and put on ice. Here on the Pink Cloud we only allow love in and we only let love out too. All others need not bother, you will be turned away.

How are you all? We’re staying put for Christmas as we’re moving house – looks like this will happen five minutes before Christmas as everything has dragged out but that’s cool. I have my boys and everything else I need in my life and now that precious diploma is actually within touching distance too. Life genuinely just keeps getting better every day and all these rewards continue to come my way for this one simple reason:

Today I’m not going to drink.

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