June 23, 2022
Oh darn! I had started a post on my computer and then unintentionally deleted it. This happens quite often and is so, so frustrating, because I can’t recall what I wrote even though it was just minutes ago. Now I’m emailing a post to myself, hoping I will be able to retrieve it if necessary. Generally I’m fairly patient about these mishaps, but sometimes it’s still like a sharp knife cutting into my ego, reminding me in such a harsh way that I am ‘damaged’ and and on a path of decline. I’m expecting when I get to ‘that place,’ not much will matter to me anymore. The sweet unknown. I’m looking forward to it—at least I think so.
But alas, enough of those thoughts. The weather is delightfully warm and breezy, the birds are tweeting, and I am still able to journal.
But I often mess up, as just now I somehow sent the beginning of this post to Keith. When these ‘oops’ happen I get tearful, realizing the speed of my decline and the burden I will likely become to my family—which in many ways is already what Keith experiences.
I need to stop writing, or I’ll start crying.