Day 113 saw a walk with a friend cancelled after dodging fast moving bin lids in the air on the dog walk this morning. Too dangerous. So I write this post early because I need to tell you my story for it has been unlucky for some.
I started with breakfast in an empty house. The children were away skiing so I What’s app’d them wishing them a great day skiing on this their first day on the slopes for the trip. There was no sign of the Dementor. Dancing queen was on the radio. I was shortly to be meeting Chris and his friend for coffee even though we were no longer walking we were going to link up for a chat. I should have been buoyant. But suddenly my hands started shaking and for the first time ever. I found myself sat at the kitchen table Sobbing. Deep wracking sobs. Nothing in my head. No apparent trigger. Just deep, incessant sobs with the tears streaming down my face in such a torrent like I have never seen before except on cartoons of incessant crying. As I sobbed, my head in my hands, I felt translucent. I felt empty. I felt lifeless. I could feel nothing. Perhaps the Dementor had taken more of me yesterday than I thought. Had sucked more life out of me than I thought possible and was not coming back because it had cast me aside as a spent corpse with nothing left to give. Nothing left to feed it. Fine and just as long as I’m sobbing there is breath inside me, there is life inside me and I’m jolly well going to fight for my life back. I’m going to beat this beast and all its vicious symptoms. In less than a year I reach the entry point of my original prognosis. I am not only going to get there but I am going to sail passed it under full sail, pennants flying, confident and driving with energy as all 14 sails fill with the wind of God’s breath to drive me forward on his course set for me. The rigging may creak a little under the full pressure of the wind in the sails set square to the wind but it isn’t going to fail. It is going to carry me forward for many, many, many years of loyal service on the challenge. I will carry the children on my decks, keep them safe in a storm and fill their hearts with a drive to follow their passions as sure as my sails filling with the wind. I am going to watch them grow, and grow, and grow. I am going to watch them graduate from High School, protect them as they pupate at University and watch with sheer joy as they emerge into whatever wonderful creature of many colours that they become, shelter them as they find their feet and pump their wings full of experience and then blow gently to help them fly in to their chosen career. I am going to be there to watch them wed and to cuddle my grandchildren. I am going to beat this beast. So to get started I am going to the Buttercup Café to meet Chris and Brian for a Mocha and a flapjack and then I am going to the gym on the No59. I can’t sit here sobbing all day.
I am so sorry that I am taking you on such a roller-coaster of a ride. I am not sure how much hope, inspiration or encouragement I am managing to give to anyone right now but on deciding whether or not I should write this post I reminded myself of the promise I made to tell you my story warts and all as it unfolds in front of me on this journey. But I promise you that I am more than determined to ensure that there is a happy ending to this story and know for certain that there will be many more wonderful days on the way. I am just in the pit of a dip at the minute but am connected to my faith which is clickety, clickety, clickety pulling me inch by inch back up the track and on to the top.