Well, the meltdown is done, the workload is eased (I've passed a milestone and moved on), and my pain level is under better control. Does that make it better? Is that it? I'm just a cork on the ocean, my life under the influence of the wind and water I float amongst? If that's so, I'll end up in the big garbage dump between Hawaii and California. Circling with the rest of the floating crap disposed of without thought.
If I do end up there, it's entirely my doing. Yes, life is full of influences that are outside of my control; ultimately, what I do with them determine whether I am flotsam or a sailor.
Life became much more manageable when I just let go of the need to have it turn out right. There are too many fears running through my bones and none of them are truly relevant. Not anymore. In a matter of days, it will be the 1 year anniversary of my mom's death. Not long after that, I pass into the next decade of my life. Pretty busy time.
These past few years just seem like that, incredible events piling up like logs on the beach after a storm.
I am writing more, which is one reward for all the chaos, and I am feeling, right now, like the chaos doesn't matter as much as it has. It's just there, it's there whether I'm looking at it or not, it's there whether I am safe on shore or deep in the midst of it, it's just there, it's nothing about me.
Succeeding at small things.