It's finished!

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jamesG.1

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It's finished!
« on: July 08, 2018, 08:08:01 AM »
Well that's it chaps... the business is over. I'm out.

blimeyÖ what a difference in only 2 days.

Just spending even a small amount of time fixing things, making overdue connections and cleaning up my laptop - and Iím transformed. Working my way through my archives getting stuff ready to go on the photo libraries and other sites.. Good task when Iím dissociating, it can be done without too much brain power, more a persistence job.

What the hell was I doing with my life all these years? Hellís bells! Vast amounts of work on these hard drives and yet I have nothing to show for it all. Mind-boggling. Itís all in my ex's house, my mumís casket and my darling brotherís voodoo playbox. My biz partner? I dunno. Now I know the cause of his behaviour is down to a sick parent he neglected to tell me about, Iím easing up on him in my head a bit, but really, the man is an utter workaholic. Because we were so integrated, that meant that I was too, simply by default. I had no choice in the matter. Itís been exhausting and draining and coming right on the heels of all my misadventures, itís been an absolute pig. Itís cost me thousandsÖ tens of thousands. As has the late mother, my ex and award-winningly narcissistic brother.

I have a feeling without a name, a sort of resignation and defiance blend with an impatience and a desire not to waste time debating the details a second longer than possible. Whatís done is done. What is important now is that I have a measure of control back and can make decisions based upon my own needs and abilities.

My life was owned.

It isnít now.

So, the first thing now is to simply recover for a few months as I wait to see how my head behaves as the PTSD fades. Financially Iím covered and Iíve mothballed my credit card while I await my flight path. Have to say that the credit card people have been amazing. Totally understanding. Welfare wonít kick in til Iíve burned through the final fees which should take about three months, during which I will be concentrating on uploading my images to photo libraries. Writing will follow on in due course.  Itís quite an opportunity.

Despite all that, the welfare thing canít be too long and drawn out or Iíll stagnate. If I get even a basic 9-5 job, Iíll be quidís in, because once I combine that with the book sales and a small amount of freelancing, I start to accumulate very quickly. Itís all down to stamina and dissociation.

The dissociation is a pig, it can kick in out of the blue and does not seem to follow obvious patterns I can predict or plan for. Iím getting better at working with it and around it, saving some tasks for when itís rampant and going with it  when my head is clear. Itís very, very hard to explain it, and if I get rid of it for a day, I can actually find it hard to remember what itís like. As I have it right now Iíll try. Itís a sort of headache feeling without pain. A thickness, or tightness matched with sudden fatigue and an utter inability to focus. If it made me crash and sleep it would be a something, instead it seems to keep me awake at the same time as I'm comatose, so I get to experience the boredom and frustration which, as everyone tells me, feeds the bloody thing. Hydration and inflammation seem to be a very big part of it tho, so Iíve been experimenting with taking naproxen when I feel it coming on, together with copious water. These things are so vague tho, so you canít really conduct proper controlled tests because the conditions are so variable. We are in the middle of a heatwave here at the moment, and thatís really causing water loss, but thatís at the same time as work ends and I get control back, so thereís no real way to be sure whatís happening.

Alcohol is now a very reduced factor in all this. Itís a classic PTSD response and it really does lift the dissociation, no question, so itís no surprise people lean on it. But Iíve been very anti the bloody stuff even when I was doing it. My new town is a good move on that point. The pubs are ghastly and full of the sort of people youíd cross eight lanes of rush hour traffic to avoid. The shaved Morlock look is very big here. I am also very wary of drinking alone at home anyway, always have been, so when I do it I usually feel rubbish about it, and over time that has started to turn all that around. I think too, that my ambition over the writing is now bigger than any desire to get plastered with a bottle of cheap wine. C-PTSD is quite a handicap if you want to write and produce and market etc etc, and I am blowed if I wasn't anything to be dragging me down now that Iím free to let rip. Plus the costs! Absurd. Iíve got very good with my food costs and eat healthy and cheap. I can live all week on 10 quid of vegetables, but two bottles of wine and bingo, hello Mr carrot.

Iíve needed some space to consider all this tho. Part of the work enigma has been the way it just swamps everything including the ability to manage even basic admin and household stuff. I kid you not, I have washed and rewashed clothes again and again because I haven't had time to hang them. I literally get dragged off the toilet seat to work. Itís been insane. In only a few days thatís all changed tho. The routines are going to be astonishing for me. Amazing.

So yeah, I have a good pan, and once my head has settled a bit, Iíll weigh up the job options. I want repetition, mindnumbing familiarity. Stability.

Russian saying: If you donít take risks, youíll never drink champagne.

Substitute with sparkling water and peace.