Today, February 21, marks the seventh anniversary of this blog. Seven years ago today this blog was born with the hopes of being part of a sharing, caring blogging community. This I have realised. During times of trouble, you've provided me with comfort, with encouragement. For that, I'm profoundly grateful. .
Seven sees me more determined than ever that we celebrate the differences and learn lessons from such diversity.
As of late, my interaction has been sporadic at best. Overwhelming circumstances in my personal life have made my ability to focus on writing, a most difficult proposition. Not only am I dealing with the upheaval of an impending move to a new place, I'm incessantly bombarded by a ruthless government that wont accept the huge amount of medical reports that confirm I'm not well. Now, they are sending a health care professional to my house to perform a face-to-face assessment.
Over and over again, I'm having to dredge up the painful memories that I desperately try to move on from. Such evil irony. They're making me sicker with the stress and anxiety.
It all gets too much. Along with the constant hassle by the British government, my neighbours are becoming intolerable, yet again. Thank goodness I may not have to tolerate my neighbours for much longer. I worry about my son as he will have to find his own place. I worry about our beloved dog, Penny, during such unsettling times.
Seven sees me clinging onto my remaining fibres of positivity. I must not allow the negativity to take me back to that horrible place of hell that nearly killed me.
Seven sees me still believing that there will be positives out of the perceived negatives. The flickering flame of hope will not be extinguished. I visualise that day when I can breathe. A day when suffocation by those who would sabotage my yearning to live in peace, will finally leave me alone.
Seven sees me, no matter what happens, that I'll deal with it in a sober state. Once upon a time, alcohol was my love, my best friend. One day, my "best friend" nearly killed me. I got scared, saw the tears in the eyes of my nine year old son as I lay dying in hospital. That was the day I turned it around, got better and became a free man. A day, nearly sixteen years ago, forever etched in my heart.
Seven sees this free man defiantly refusing to be chained. Resolute in his determination to see this through. I thank you for being here.