I’m nearly better, though measuring your own progress is far from an exact science. I was re-reading my old diary (from 2006) and trying to figure out if I was happier then or if I’m happier now – and I think the answer is, both. I was happier then in the sense that I had work and money; we were involved with the children and had frequent holidays. On the other hand the diary is full of my frustrations: people I disliked and didn’t know how to deal with; continual demands on me from work and children – and above all a total lack of time to write, which resulted in mental chaos. My mind felt completely cluttered; and whilst I don’t have any of the external trappings I had then, what I do have is a large measure of mental clarity and plenty of time to write. If I don’t write I get mental constipation: thoughts build up and up and are never released, like one of those progress bars which never quite gets to the end – or if it does, just starts all over again. They ought to call them Sisyphus bars because they never get to the end…
Getting better is like returning to normal from Douglas Adams’ Total Perspective Vortex: ‘we have normality. I repeat, we have normality. Anything else is therefore your own problem.’
I have to figure out which symptoms were due to the TVP – aka chest infection – (eg tiredness, depression) and which are now my own problem. Of course in a wider sense everything is my own problem, but it’s good to know which are caused by a bug and which aren’t. Though I suspect it may not be that simple. After all, why do we get bugs in the first place?
Now there’s a question with a never-ending answer.