The Power of Pride and Humour

Today has been a strange old day in my world. Mainly nothing ‘serious’…messing around with the staff at my placement, meeting with my care coordinators, talking to the mental health professionals here about things I’ve been working on, preparing to interview new staff with the senior recovery workers, watching Children in Need…

However, a thread through it all has been a subtle sense of pride from all of the professionals I’ve come in to contact with today. Pride about things that seem tiny and inconsequential to me, especially in the scheme of how awful things are right now and the monsters I’ve been battling as well as the very real fight for my life, but that pride as well as bucketloads of humour coming from all sides has somehow left me feeling a bit…’glowy’.

Not a normal feeling. Not even a safe feeling. A feeling with a lot of its own confusion and guilt. Sentiments that I don’t understand. But I can settle with that for the teeniest bit of ‘glowy-ness’ when all there’s been is crushing darkness and torturous pain.

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