Monday Morning and afternoon

Good morning,
It is nearly noon, and I am in my swimsuit, ready for a swim.

Last night I suddenly started feeling better.
And it wasn't too hot to sleep, I had my wet tea towel but I turned the fan off and slept.
I dreamed but I don't remember what I dreamed.
I woke relaxed and in no pain, but it has still taken until now to really face the world.
I am fed, medded, washed and ready for a swim.

I am still very much in a poetry mood, but I will inflict that on you later.

Well, for some reason this post didn't publish earlier, so I will add to it since earlier and publish it.

I had my swim, the sea was cool and calm and a lot of people were enjoying the water.

The lifeguard had to come down to our beach and swim out because a young teen had got carried away by the sea in their inflatable, the teen was a tad embarrassed and the lifeguard was a bit red in the face from swimming out and towing them in, he was the one who I reported the jellyfish to.

Coming out of the water, the heat in the air really hit me, it is very hot.

I am very grateful that since yesterday evening, someone from Jersey has been talking to me, I was so low yesterday, I really desparately needed someone to talk to, and someone from Jersey kindly stepped in, and it is much appreciated.

I have been watching a film called 'Broken'. It is a heart wrenching film about real life, life in the kind of places I grew up in, and it is about an 11 year old girl growing up in this kind of place, it really got to me, I took the risk of flashback triggeres but I am ok. But wow, what a film.

The end part especially got to me, because reality is, I am too wounded and broken, I do long for the day that Jesus quietly whispers that I can go, that I can return home and rest at sanctuary, the young girl in the film was so like me, and she saw and was hurt by things like the things that have hurt me, and in the end, she had to choose, to go on living, as I did when I was 12, or leave the tragedy of real life behind.

I wish I could send a copy to the Diocese's soulless psychopathically conscienceless safeguarding officer, Jane Fisher, and say to her, 'This is what creates people like me, this is how a person is driven mad, this is what madness is! I survived my childhood only for you to destroy me!'
But she would turn away and make the usual glib excuses and say it was all me.