Sometimes I'm not very good at remembering who I am. I get all caught up in either feeling very special, or very not special. That, at my worst, can be entirely dependent on how well something is going.
When it gets bad I usually need rest and to do normal things and be around normal people. This weekend I didn't get a whole heap of rest but I did do some normal things..
I read a book: The Blasphemer by Nigel something.. rubbish.. trying too hard to be profound and missing by a country mile!
I watched a film.. the Help. Beautiful.. anger making and over the heads of many of the audience. Lots of choosing to laugh at the angry character... Civil Rights was my special subject- say no more.
I went for a walk..
I hung out with friends- lunch in Liverpool, dinner in Manchester, breakfast in Leeds..
I'm starting to feel more normal. I'm starting to remember that I am special, but not because of what I do. I can see that I am unspecial, in that I am a sister in this messy world, and I can smile at that.