Vulnerable

Vulnerable. Not a word I often use. And certainly not about myself. Feeling exposed. Or is it guilt dressed up as something else? Enjoyed my recent time off. Did things I haven’t done for a long time. I read seven pages of a book which wasn’t about disability. I watched half an hour of test cricket. And I listened to some music while not multitasking. I spent time collectively and individually with the children. A Monday morning Peter Rabbit 2 cinema experience with my son. I had a lovely time. Same he replied. Priceless. A Costa with my eldest daughter. A lot of grunts. Priceless. I think. And a morning at the farm with the twins. Seeing a real life duck and pig for the first time. Beaming smiles. A forever memory.

But I missed work. The routine. The rhythm. The intensity. You don’t quite understand how optimal you are operating until you slow down. I felt a little lost. Twitchy.

A fine line between want and need. Control and comfort blanket. I criss-cross. And with little understanding. For all of us that can be dangerous. Awareness needed. I have learned I am greedy. For time with the kids and my partner. And to change the disability conversation yesterday, not tomorrow. I am hoping it is the right kind of greed.

Recognise the signs. Get balance. Things cannot be mutually exclusive.

Feast Friday.

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