I’ve been quite tired lately.  Fynn and I have fished quite a lot. Partly because we love it but maybe it’s also been a distraction.  16th May was the 4th anniversary of my dad dying and today is 4 years since his funeral. Life is passing me by so fast.  How long I’ll live or how old I’ll get to I don’t know. My mood has tailed off.  It’s maybe why I’m tired. Who knows. I’m not too interested in much at the minute.  I’ve no idea why I’m writing this either.  

I’ve just started reading a very interesting book about the interconnectedness of trees and how they share sugars, information and so forth through their fungal networks underground and through releasing chemicals into the air when attacked.  I’ve know about this for quite some time but the book was a gift I received last week when at my stepdaughters wedding, which was amazing.  Having read a little I felt memories of my earlier life flood through and into me like a ‘download’ or a jump back in time.  Mostly it involved my mum. It brought up the emotions of those times for myself and made me wonder what she must of felt too.  Memories of going into a toy shop in Oakham, where she moved too, and the play park area there which we used to walk through to go into the town.  Lots of high running emotionally charged feels flooded to the fore.  I wonder how she must of felt each time I stayed with her and when she had to drop me back home in North Norfolk.  It must of been a rollercoaster for her.  The excitement that I was coming to visit followed by the harsh reality that I would be leaving again.  The feelings of knowing she would have to drop me off and drive away and leave me again, like she had when she walked out.  It also hit me that she still did this time and time again.  That even though I sensed it as how she felt it it brought up exactly how I felt each time, dropped off and deserted.  It’s shown me how complicated the early years of my life really were and nothing was ever really explained to me.  It’s shown me yet again why the psychologist added complex PTSD to the bipolar diagnosis.  It’s funny how when things are going well something from the past rears it’s head yet again.  That’s life I guess.