The Adventures Of Samwise

That's one of my favourite quotes. It's from The Old Man And The Sea by Hemingway. It kind of sums up how I feel. I often get told that I have such bad luck. That's usually accompanied by a sorrowful look, a head tilt and a soft voice. I know that people mean well. I really really do get that. But I find it so offensive anyway. Because I don't possibly understand why anyone could think that I have bad luck. I kind of get where they're coming from in terms of "oh wouldn't it be better if you didn't have any of this!!!" But quite frankly, no. I am me and I am perfect like this. I am broken and I am faulty and I am happy and I love it. This is me. Healthy is not. That is okay. I don't need your interpretation of luck, because I have my own. I should definitely be dead by now, that is a fact. I am not, that is also a fact. So how that can make me anything other than lucky, I have no idea. People assume that lucky would be to be like them, and t

I'm sat in bed right now with my big pup snoring next to me and my four rats sitting munching their dinner and I'm very proud of myself. Because today, I did completely ordinary and mundane stuff that I would usually do every single day, and I did it all without crying once. That's a big deal. So there's this weird thing, that I'm sure I'm not the only one who experiences. Where once I come out of hospital (oh, spoiler: been in hospital again) I struggle.  Even washing. You have no idea how exhausted you can be until you have to have a lay down after having a quick shower. By which time you need to shower again because you're too sweaty. None of this is helped by my brain. It dislikes me as much as my body does sometimes. At the moment, the levels of anxiety I have are some of the highest they've been for a very long time, if not ever. But I'm still smashing it. So yesterday morning I was talking to one of my favourite family friends. Someone who