Oh lordy I’ve done that stupid thing of becoming extremely stressed at work and then not realising it and then everything falls apart and I’m left in the middle going THIS IS FINE without quite spotting that my skin temperature has reached a million degrees and my nose has melted onto my lap.
No, no, it’ll be fine. I spotted it (finally), and booked some time off work. Sort of. A little bit of time. Enough time? Not really. But some time. Time to chill. Sort of. And reset my brain … mostly.
So this is me telling the internet there’ll be a little bit of a delay on what was otherwise an imminent comic. You’ll have to wait a little longer I’m afraid. I know, boobies and willies on standby.
Oh damn, why, in my freaking thirties, am I still so rubbish at spotting when my brain is about to shatter into moth dust and weave a shiny path out the window? You’d have thought, given my diverse and in-depth MH experience, that I’d be better at keeping a handle on it by now. But no, apparently not.
In a way, this is a good sign. You see, in days gone by, I would begin to slowly hate myself and the self-harm would ramp up a little. But not any more! Wahoo!!! Because I no longer latch failures/stresses onto a sense of self, I walk a more peacfeul path! Hooray! Except being this peaceful means it’s a little harder to spot when I’m getting stressed! Boo! Flippin eck, hopefully it’s a sign of transcendence to another level, when you find new [albeit gentler] ways to fail from things you basically sorted years ago.
Ah well, we’re all learning to be humans I guess. I’ll never truly crack it, but we can all walk a joyful path in the process, it seems 🙂
