Nine Daisies

There is an old saying that spring has not really come until you can put your foot upon nine daisies at once. Funny, I thought it was summer, as walking back into work after lunch I noticed the profusion of daisies on the grass verge, like little stars in a green sea.

It was just coming up to summer last year when I started this blog. My life had erupted into turmoil over finances and a rather sour illicit encounter. Since then I have been through trauma I could not possibly have forseen and life is still not entirely steady. The roller coaster has stopped tipping me upside down with such regularity, but there are still lurches and upheavals.

I wonder sometimes whether I will ever feel truly calm again – at least, for longer than an hour or two.

However, I am beginning to realise that I am far tougher than I ever thought I could be. Granted, the mental turmoil goes on and on, and I feel months, if not years, away from a good night’s sleep.

But I have not fallen apart, have not swallowed a solitary anti-depressant, nor sought comfort in a wine bottle, nor fallen prey to panic attacks (although this has been a close shave on a few occasions, notably a couple of weeks ago when I had that dreadful day of dissociation).

Should I therefore be patting myself on the back? Not a chance; I think that would be courting disaster, tempting the event that I truly couldn’t deal with, to happen. So I will refrain.

If this last year has been a learning experience, I have learnt a lot and hope that I can use that wisdom for more than just my own ends.

But I have paid a huge price, have thrown what feels like my entire life to the four winds to be tossed and buffeted about with no idea of a proper resting place.

I landed here in October, in this small city, but have no clear idea of how long I will stay, or where I will go next. A lot of that will depend on you.

I landed in a job (accept in haste, repent at leisure!); the big mistake, apart from the trade union work. She is now harassing me on a regular basis; She watches almost my every move and that is an appalling feeling to deal with. I have been told that She is “out to get me” and I am watching my back constantly, but that sort of pressure makes mistakes inevitable. This will get worse before it gets better; I have one or two small opportunities to help myself, which I must take and use well.

I landed with you; even a year ago I had no idea of your existence, then Friday 13th July tossed me into the maelstrom that saw me cast the boat off from Knowle just two months later.

This has not been an easy path to follow – not you, but all the circumstances, all the hurdles, all the pitfalls. You are the easy part of it, but you must be my rock as I will be yours. My wisdom (such as it is) is yours to use and I must continue learning.

What has gone before will never be written off, never be invalid, but it can also never be changed or revisited.

Sometimes my fixation with linear time can be useful as it helps me put the past into perspective and it has also saved me a lot of regret along the way. My odd, pagan, drunk, drug-abusing ex used to say that “there is only Now” – and there are times when I can understand that philosophy. We learn things from people in the oddest circumstances, don’t we?

I think now that there are only three things that I truly fear. One of them is losing you.

When I go outside again, the daisies will be there, being blown about in this very unseasonable wind. Despite their thin stalks, their heads never seem to blow off. A thin thread can still be strong.