Hanging by a thread

Every woman has heard how awful hot flushes are, but no one ever told me that my words would just up and disappear. You’ll go to say something and even the most common innocuous words will just be gone from your mind. It started with just forgetting the word itself but synonymous words were OK, so I couldn’t remember the word “Doctor” but could remember surgery, medicine, hospital. But eventually they started vanishing as well until virtually every other sentences leaves me scrabbling around in the dark for a word that I KNOW I KNOW.

No one told be that there’s nothing scarier than a person who’s convinced of their own righteousness. Some people believe they have the right to commit any atrocity because they are the “Good Guys”. Genuinely good people doubt, they constantly question themselves and the path they are taking in life. That doesn’t mean they don’t get it wrong but when they do they try and learn and grow from that mistake.

There is comfort in age. I find myself more content with myself the older I get. My life is not without it’s problems, and goodness knows I’ve had my share of trauma, but while time hasn’t cured me it’s made me appreciate what I have.

Generational trauma is real and debilitating. So often I’ve heard someone say “oh such and such has problems because of their family, it’s not like they were abused or anything but…” If you come away from a situation scarred then that was trauma, that WAS abuse. Just because you were never beaten or rated doesn’t mean you don’t carry just as many scars as people who were. And everyone is different, what one may see as a fun home life, another will see as chaos where they feel unsafe. It’s not for us to decide. Only that person gets to decide whether something was good or bad for them.

And that leads on to , we all have demons. We all have nightmares. Pain is not something that can be quantified and compared. Be Kind.