Figuring me out

it is interesting to figure out oneself after having your skull opened, brain hydrovac’d,skull closed back up and then had radiation beams go in and scramble with the ol Brain again and toss in a few handfuls of toxic medications down the gullet, then try and think, at all. At the moment it feels like a mad cat with large claws running away from flying chainsaws. Quite a show, I’m sure. Every new event may be like throwing a blanket on the cat then waiting to see where it emerges. 

I have bledssed moments where the cat escapes near cataclysmic death and hope emerges and the chainsaws disappear by some miracle. 

Weird mental picture, I know. 

I find that peace, routine and rest are my greatest allies at this point. Oh, and meds. Also the trustworthy companionship and help of others. 

It’s just that I am feeling lost and afraid at times and I know that those times won’t last. I am just in the stage of navigating my way past the gyrating chainsaws. Bear with me. 

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