Day Eleven and We're Going To Get All Wistful Again

Third evening in a trot I've been out and about, I do not recommend this for ME/CFS sufferers at all as I'm barely holding on and tomorrow I will need to be careful not to crash completely.  All the warning signs are blaring like mad but I can't listen to them.

Tonight was the school concert, my sons have an amazing ability, both play the guitar, the piano and anything else they set their sights to, I am in awe of anyone who can play a musical instrument.  Hearing them sit down and work out how to play a tune they've just heard on TV, or practise a new piece for the guitar ensemble.

Two instruments I'd love to be able to play so effortlessly - the cello and the piano.  I can barely sing without cats arriving at the doorstep to see where the fight is, the boys read music, I just see lots of interesting shapes and patterns on the page.

Something you always think "What if..." about:

Oh, hear we go again with the dragging up the past, by the end of these thirty days it's going to have been like a giant therapy session.  Saving the NHS money with every post.

Okay, sometimes I do wallow in "what-iffery", it can consume a person if not careful.  And I'm not careful.  If things hadn't have happened as they did would I still have my sons though?  I've always felt so, it was more destiny, it was meant to be and I just picked a rubbish wastrel of a father. Blah.

There's a game people play "if you could go back and tell your teenage self some advice..."

If I could then my advice would be to believe in myself and to do what I wanted to do with my life and not what others wanted me to do.  Life would have been much simpler and I would have had a much different path to follow.

I say that here because if I had that confidence to speak against the grain, to ignore my mother's line of "What do you want to do that for" every time I said what I'd like to do with my life then...what if...

What if I had gone to art school?

What if my love for art and story-telling had been encouraged?

What if I'd had the brass neck to say "Guess what, I don't want to be a nurse or a secretary Mr Careers Advisor so try again"?

What if my parents had been able to recognise that what Mr Careers Advisor said was wrong and discussed things properly?

What if I had the courage now to be able to stand up for myself?