I feel set up. Maybe just by circumstance, but I’m there. I thought I was winning, finally. Hah!
Spent 50 years determined to fight the f’n pain. Can’t win against that, it’s the PTSD. It hurts. Can set it aside, partial win. The pain isn’t driving me any more.
Spent 10 years determined to write my story and because it was so hard to do, forget almost everything I know about writing stories. I thought I was done with the endless job of wading through my particular map of hell, but No! Wait!
It needs to be rewritten.
Years and miles away I said to myself that I’d do almost anything to not be a character in an Ibsen play. Win-win-win . . .Big time NOT!
Mr Ibsen must be laughing his f’n head off.