174/2023

Happiness is not my natural habitat.
I have often been there, inside that
Jungle, but found it too luscious, too
Wild, too unpredictable and inconsistent,
And retreated beyond its boundaries
Into the bushes around it, to glower at
It without understanding it, without
Being brave enough to give myself up
To it.

My therapist said I had anhedonia.

I crave it, though, that place I try to
Escape from the moment I’m in it.
The problem is, I know nothing
Is permanent.

R 22/06/2023 20:10

Ren will probably understand this more than most if and when she reads it from her place of grief. As will my family who live with this on a daily basis (the irony being they love my smile and laugh in its singular seldomness).

The sun is going down, and I am listening to Big Thief’s Not (thanks, Alex). There is a kind of melancholic hope hanging around somewhere over my right shoulder. A good time to get Madge out and drive her (carefully) somewhere before the darkness comes.