Saturday’s bad weather was more than tempered by my CRA notice telling me how large my tax return was. It’s made a wonderful difference, getting the Disability Tax Credit.
Have you noticed how my posts have shrunk to the same thing every day?
I don’t have the clinic provoking thought, and my lines are memorized, so I just hang out inside on the cool and dark days, and I do yard work on the sunny days. There’s days and days of work and I look forward to doing it.
A fellow named Joe, who did work for my friend, Judith, has said he’ll split my bucked wood, but he hasn’t seen it. There are several smaller pieces that he can do. I’ll know more when he comes by. We’ve just started emailing. My back shed is all clear and ready for new split wood.
It’s okay having an empty head. I’m not stressed about anything, and I think that’s a great thing for my wellbeing. I had a. man crush on a British fellow named Lewis Capaldi. He’s a singer, but I’ve seen clips of him on British talk shows and I find him irresistible. He’s very funny and extremely candid. He’s real and it’s so alluring. Plus, he has Tourette’s Syndrome.
Tourette’s is a neurological disorder. He’s part of my community, and so I watched a film about him on Netflix. It was very interesting to me, because the film covers a very stressful period of his life. He rose from obscurity to a first album that made him an arena-filling superstar. His success put enormous pressure on him to produce a second album and as the cameras roll, he falls apart, overwhelmed by his symptoms.
What’s very clear to me, is that the emotions of people with neurological disorders affect our symptoms. When we are stressed or sad or in fear, our symptoms explode. It was quite something for me to watch a person in a situation like my own, going through a really rough time.
I’m very lucky that my FND did not kick in until I was retired. Many people in my support groups are mothers of young children and/or have jobs. They lose their income and their ability to interact with their children to the extent of their desires. I only have my symptoms to contend with.
It’s Sunday—my day to do as I please. But that distinction is rather moot now that I have quit the clinic. Now, every day is my day. Woo hoo!