First person singular

So I got up from posting yesterday's blog and went into the kitchen to find the evil twins of pain and depression waiting to do their worst - which of course they do much better together! And I sat with my head in my hands wondering 'What can I do to shift this?' - not a comfortable position for me to be in, physically of mentally. My commitment to non-attachment makes me so wary of dependency, reliance and neediness I can shy away from any way of meeting needs that requires outside input. What if it I ask and don't get? What if it doesn't help? What if it does help and I get used to it and it stops? I used to go for long walks or play my guitar to sort my head out, which would seem sensibly self sustaining forms of self nurturing... until changes in my body made them too hard to do to do much good. Attachment to independence and freedom can unfortunately become an addiction too...

So my laptop's in front of me and I wonder if some music might do the trick but my mind's a blank as to what to choose. I type in 'ska' on YouTube (Tony Songhurst would understand!) and the first track is 'Can't Get Used to Losing You'. Rhythm's fine but words are not...but it does make me think of 'Save it For Later' the first few bars of which are pretty much guaranteed to make me smile and has some passable lyrics. I need to hear it in better sound quality though so go and hunt down my Walkman (neighbours are quiet by now and don't want to get them started again)... But my Walkman is a fairly primitive device and as I'm scrolling down the albums I come to Dookie before The Very Best of the Beat, and have to play Basket Case instead - a simple ditty of the dangers of too much introspection with some of my favourite drumming ever. And the strangest thing happens... I start to dance... Dad dancing maybe but an energetic and healthy dad! The demons have gone, nothing hurts in any way...I am exuberantly, enthusiastically the me I can't stand losing, and my pent up frustrated energy has an outlet.

And the song ends and the pain comes back, and I get back to cooking tea. And Rachel comes and sees me hobbling around and says 'Still hurting?' and I say yes...but the strangest thing happened a while ago...

I give thanks for company and acupuncture, and the checking of my pulses showing this unexplained and unexpected buzzy wellness too. As if I've had my anaemia treatment, only I have not...

I give thanks for Stephy completing one of my cryptic crosswords. For nearly meeting someone for a cuppa today, realising I need cake as much as conversation and buying myself one from one of our special bakeries...while I'm out pottering about with more agility and stamina than I've had for months...still limping and slow and sore but more upright and able, and able to enjoy the experience to some degree.  As if I really am getting better at last...only I mustn't get too attached to that idea either! For town being very quiet so there were no queues to stand in, and when I sat on the seafront I could let out a chuckle of delight without receiving strange looks. The sun had gone in and the sky and sea might have seemed uninspiring but it felt as if there were some important shades of grey there...steely ones like me!