Counselling yesterday and I talked about the circumstances which caused the destruction of the muscles in my right shoulder. Life was very interesting indeed in those times. In fact back then I couldn’t wrap my mind around what was happening and I was busy pretending that everything was just fine when it wasn’t. I only ever talked positive because that make the world right. Of course I complained in my Journals, and that didn’t help as much as it should have.
It’s not just the physical damage or even the trauma that I inherited from those times. The shoulder isn’t going to get better (which is annoying because I was once pretty good at Pool). The fact remains that there is still so much to sort.
The Counsellor asked me for a definition of ‘breakdown’ and I was quick to quote Piaget and ‘cognitive dissonance’, thinking at the time that it’s more than just cognitive dissonance, it’s an emotional and social dissonance which also follows in the train of Domestic Disaster.
Yesterday I was supposed to bring the questionnaire to the session. I’d filled out the sheets several days previously and thought everything was ready. Then, as I was dressed and about to depart, I couldn’t find it. Neither could I find my Organiser.
These are two of the growing number of items which ‘have their place’.
A horrible truth has dawned today.
The Princess is being released from Vet Hospital tomorrow.
My room is supposed to be cleansed.
The mind, however, has not yet coped with or re-filed all the paper work which was hurled about my place on a regular basis during the difficult years.
When I began to clean the room, the big question on that day was, What To Do with that paper work which includes poetry, a funny music novel, (hard copy only), versions of essays, old fashioned letters and cards and various business details all mingled promiscuously.
There’s no doubt that mornings are complex times in this place.
The cats prowl about checking that there’s no dinner from last night remaining in the various rooms. They have been shut in separate rooms for the night and they need to explore the place again. I bring some cats in and take others outside. I also have to supply affection for some and I also provide this one or that with extra biscuits.
So I too do a morning circuit of the place and even with my glasses on, I see that there’s no sign of either folder or Organiser in any of the rooms.
In recent months there have been guests and a celebration. In terms of the major cleanups, I’ve got into the habit of bringing boxes of Stuff into my room, (hence the aforementioned disorder which was exacerbated by mischievous cats creating their own re-sort).
Well on the tidying up day, I didn’t file very much at all. I put several works and categories into folders and reduced the number of boxes by exactly one.
Although the said covered boxes now sit neatly against the wall, forming a hiding place for The Princess in the money corner, I think the they may now possibly contain an Organiser and a folder more recent than the rest.
There’s another dental session later today. I want to take the Organiser.
I write because I’m mentally sorting another examination of the boxes.
A major filing day is definitely on the cards. Mental preparation is now in operation for yet another examination of the three remaining boxes.
The best thing about the recent Dentals is that the headaches and vision problems are much relieved. Thankyou Labor, thankyou Medicare.
Counselling has helped too.
Thank God For The Salvo’s!
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