Saturday, April 09, 2016

One ping only

With thanks to The Hunt for the Red October.

Having crushed a three month goal six weeks in I've decided to go for a six monther even though I am but just two months back. 

So I sent a ping out to see if the ping bounces back. 

If the ping returns I'll know it's a go and I can go for the full 12 monther. 

The three, six and 12 plan was pronounced upon me by D—, who literally sat by me on my second day back as I sat quivering in a chair while he dealt with my emails, as a mandatory must-do. That the best way to blast clear of a wreck is to have goals to help you heal and move forward. This advice neatly complimented with that from my psych. That after I space out, and I've just realised it's happened, to forgive myself then think of something positive I am going to do. Plan to, in other words, to inflict maximum wellness. 

It's working. I've found this mental jujitsu auto-kicking in. That if I pace under the patio in my sock-covered feet after morning coffee and before leaving that I am planning for work, rest and play for both the short and long-term. 

Fuck me I am incredibly blessed. I had a horrifying return, nearly crippled on the first day back, but with love and support from friends old and brand new, I got helped the fuck back up along with advice on how to stay up. Not only that, I am in a place that understands my injury and its wobbly recovery and has been there for me every step of the quivering, unsteady walk back into a workplace after a severe relapse (1).

I'm basically Chumbawamba manifest in a single, short hairy form. If, that is, the big C was helped the fuck back up, by those near to them and the just-met. 

WFTW.

(1) I had an anxiety reaction to a sudden drilling noise from pod dismantle and had to flee the work area. I later told my foxpod colleagues about the leaf blower incident and how fight (slash) flight can just kick in. Then, in the the afternoon, construction kicked off again and I had to relocate to another floor until it was finished. Upon return a manager sat with me to make sure I was okay. I think I may just have to nail my feet to the deck.

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