I’m home now, my brain woke me up after a ridiculously short amount of sleep because it’s trying to kill me, clearly. I had a whole stack of thoughts and ideas about the possibility of a new branch of the Hearing Voices movement here in SA, about the DI Inc, about Bridges and organisations and boards and corporations and how the system works and the nature of all systems and… you get the picture. I scrawled notes in my journal and tried to convince myself to get more sleep. I so rarely win those fights with my brain. I wound up on the phone having an excitable conversation about changing the world and making great art. Super hero cape mode engaged.
Then I got up and remembered the bathroom desperately needs cleaning, the dishes need doing, I have a weeks worth of clothes that need cleaning, and a pile of mail and admin. Back down to earth with a bump.
The post conference crash is upon me. I’ve gone from 600 like minded people in a big, overwhelming, huggy mass, to tonight on my own in my unit. All the connections and friendships I’ve just made feel like balloon strings pulling through my fingers and floating far away. A powerful memory of being lonely and lost with no one to call upon in the world comes back to me.
I know this place. It’s not real anymore, it’s memories and ghosts. I’ll endure.
In the meantime, I have books brought back from Melbourne to contemplate. It’s good to have our researcher part back again, reading and learning and thinking about things. More sleep would be appreciated however. Looking forward to starting to write up our notes from the congress soon too. Trying to keep my footing back in my day to day life.