“The highest forms of understanding we can achieve are laughter and human compassion.” ~ Richard Feynman
It’s compassion for myself these days. It’s been hard for some time now. No complaints though. That said, sometimes it is difficult to tell what comes from the illness (bipolar 2 disorder, PTSD, minor brain damage) and what is circumstantial reactions. For over a year now I have been beaten down and I want to rise from that condition. I’m not quite sure how to proceed, but it will come to me. I’m tired of relying on prayer alone. At least I have the company, each workday, of numerous cats. Cats are good for the soul. I wish they could talk. I’d do well to know some of their secrets. But watching them is all I get. Let’s leave it at that. But there is one more thing. Last summer I wrote an article for the newspaper. It was something that needed to be said but some folks took it as an insult. Now I am feeling trepidation, fearing that someone will try to cause me trouble in return for what I wrote. I suppose that I could pass it off, these fears, to paranoia, or to the morbid thoughts that are a symptom of bipolar 2. Whatever the source I feel the need to be cautious, to be ready if it does come to trouble. I don’t reckon it will. Maybe it’s just me? I can’t afford to think that. All should be well. We’ll see, hmmm? yes.
Peace out, y’all. Goof gloriously.