Silly season

So, here’s the thing. I’m in pretty good shape. I’m fifty-odd kilos less than when I was disintegrating. My sugars are doing well. My diet is kinda reasonable. My doctors are – mostly – happy.

But I have the bonus fun bit. A nerve disorder. It has no treatment other than morphine and it occasionally breaks me. It is there every day. And probably while we’re talking. But I try very freaking hard to not let you know. 

And I’m at the supremely minor end of chronic pain. I can manage. But see someone struggling a little one day? Grab and reach what they are aiming to pull down from a shelf. Offer to help. It might well piss them off but you might also catch the person who really needs an ounce of help that takes barely a moment. Ask people what they need. I’m a diabetic. I don’t always need injections (honestly, we probs don’t if you don’t already know) and when I do, I will be pretty clear about what I need. Ask. Unless it is blatantly obvious that the need is way above the awareness, let them know you are available but not pressing.

Same for day to day stuff. Not the life threatening gear. But just being aware. Let those around you know that you are there. If needed. Or if not. It may be deeper and darker than we know. It may be WAY less. But there is nothing wrong with letting the people in our world know that we could be there if needed.

And on a purely superficial level? I told a bundle of women and men that they looked amazing the other day. Big event. Pretty young things. The PYTs got all the attention. I spent the day telling people they were looking great. Regardless of age, gender, dress code. Just because. Spreading a teensy bit of love. Made me feel amazing as a bonus.

Offer help. Tell people they look awesome. Confide in someone as to why they make you a better human. Accord respect. 

Build the world from our esteem up. It can only get better.

There you go. A christmas-ish message from this confirmed grinch. Be better. It’s not hard. 

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