Breaking free of bad habits is hard and I'm beginning to see how much of life is dictated by the past. Truth be known, my bad habits are really not THAT hideous. I swear more than I would like, talk too much and fail to make the most of opportunities sometimes.
If I have more, please feel free to point them out,
But recently I've noticed how some things just keep on happening, over and over. Not necessarily to me, but those around me seem to sometimes appear to draw certain things into their cosmos. No naming names, but there's a couple of circular lives going on around me and all I can do is observe (see? That's me trying not to talk too much).
When I wrote my car off and metaphorically - although not literally - walked away from it, I was forced to spend time on my sofa in recovery. The drugs allowed me to absorb some really, really rubbish TV and it was some of that which showed my lives made up of drama. Drama that came from nowhere or seemed to be the result of self-fulfilling prophesy.
Eighteen months later, I've definitely changed. I don't want everyone to know about my illness, nor my inability to carry a bag without shattering pain in my shoulders. (Well, clearly I'll open up sometimes!) Most people I see have no idea. And I like it that way. It's horrible when you've let slip to someone that you're having a test and they ask you straight after if you're feeling better. Tests don't usually have that rapid a beneficial effect!
Sometimes, breaking the circle by refusing to talk about the stuff of life makes the sun shine. Going round and round, over and over the same ground doesn't seem to make any sense.
What's that saying? If you keep doing the same things the same way, you'll always get the same results. Or something.
Posted via my iPad
If I have more, please feel free to point them out,
But recently I've noticed how some things just keep on happening, over and over. Not necessarily to me, but those around me seem to sometimes appear to draw certain things into their cosmos. No naming names, but there's a couple of circular lives going on around me and all I can do is observe (see? That's me trying not to talk too much).
When I wrote my car off and metaphorically - although not literally - walked away from it, I was forced to spend time on my sofa in recovery. The drugs allowed me to absorb some really, really rubbish TV and it was some of that which showed my lives made up of drama. Drama that came from nowhere or seemed to be the result of self-fulfilling prophesy.
Eighteen months later, I've definitely changed. I don't want everyone to know about my illness, nor my inability to carry a bag without shattering pain in my shoulders. (Well, clearly I'll open up sometimes!) Most people I see have no idea. And I like it that way. It's horrible when you've let slip to someone that you're having a test and they ask you straight after if you're feeling better. Tests don't usually have that rapid a beneficial effect!
Sometimes, breaking the circle by refusing to talk about the stuff of life makes the sun shine. Going round and round, over and over the same ground doesn't seem to make any sense.
What's that saying? If you keep doing the same things the same way, you'll always get the same results. Or something.
Posted via my iPad
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