Just to clarify....

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(NOTE: written yesterday - 27th Sept - posted today - 28th Sept - )

[This may be another one of those slightly unclear posts I tend to write when my head's feeling like a mare gone slightly wild and needs to be retamed. I'm working on getting it back under control....so....bear with me]

Ok, so after my last post about there being a high possibility of actually having my operation next year in Jan, I received a lot of 'yay!'s and 'congrats!", which is awesome and I'm loving the positive energy I'm getting from everyone *thumbs up*....

....however....

...I'm not out the other side quite yet. My donor has a teeny, tiny thing which needs to be checked before the path is clear and we can set a definite date.
That also means....there's still a chance we might be told 'it's not happening....'.

This is the reason I'm not going head over heels, crazy and celebrating.

What's happening next?
24th October sees her back in London for another, more detailed check up and a potential over night stay. Then...a week after...we get the results.
So just over a month....

...of more waiting.

Yes, I'm still in the same place I was 2 months ago, nothing's really changed....but....I'm starting to feel a little stretched.
I keep going through some bad moments, then bouncing back again and shouting 'yeah I'll be fiiiiine'. But the elastic rope on which I'm bouncing back and maintaining my strength, is a touch frayed.
When I went to see the doctor on Friday, my head was already feeling heavy and swamped by a tension headache: a headache no paracetamol or bath or anything can soothe. Basically, stress made physical....though...that said, a headache is a far more refreshing approach than waking up early in the morning, dealing with an hour's worth of nausea, then stumbling from bed and intermittently passing out then throwing up only to wind up in bed for the rest of the day as weak as a kitten. Which I haven't had in a really long time.
Silver lining and....all that.
See? I am getting better at dealing with stress *thumbs up?*

On going to the doctors office I was kind of hoping we'd get a touch more conclusive news than 'yep....can't...really confirm anything and daren't even consider possibly setting a date'.
On realising this, the words 'just...a little...further....' floated across my mind and I actually felt the weight and tension in my head and shoulders increase.
Even the doctor, bless him, could see the strain in my eyes and I could almost sense him thinking 'just a little further...you can do this.'

So....the wolfhound is now wide awake and prowling. Hopefully, just for a couple of days and then it'll go back to sleep again. Usually does.

Basically, my anxiety attacks are back (heh did I ever really lose them?). I had one a couple of weeks ago, then another one just the other day.
I'm now painfully aware that I'm susceptible once again. Even as I write this, I can feel adrenaline coursing through me.
Unfortunately, I was in a good place recently, and it seems a shame that I've fallen, just a touch, on my bum so soon after that.
Fortunately, this has proven that they're temporary and just the odd phases. I can get round them. I just have to work through the bouts of susceptibility when I do hit them.

I'm still actively seeking counselling and next session, I'll be asking about CBT (Cognitive Behavioural Therapy) as the part of my brain that repeatedly beats the other parts of my brain has woken up again. CBT doesn't solve the issue, but helps the patient deal with their thought process and teaches them to break the negative thinking cycle.
This morning, I actually found a painfully heavy irony in giving Tom advice I myself should have been taking. But the negative part of my brain had swamped my thoughts so heavily, I was struggling to actually enforce my own advice. Curious that I actively realised it was the advice I myself needed at the time though....

I know there are people who'll read this and go 'oh no....' on my behalf.
The best I can say is...

I'll get through this. I always do. I just need to....wait....that little bit longer. I just need people to continue being patient with me when I have one of my...odd moments (going quiet, becoming blunter than usual, glazing over, memory loss....distraction....seeming to panic and rub my hands more over the small things....the usual schabang).

Hopefully, what I'm currently going through is only temporary. I hit the odd set back now and then.
I'll get through this one....I always do....Yeah....

*Eyes peep out of box*

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Update
My donor (see...I still find myself wanting to say 'potential' donor...just in case) came to London on 17th September, to receive the results of the physical test: a test to ensure everything's working and up to par and that she can actually go ahead with surgery.
Turns out she's such a good match, the medical team actually had us listed as sisters. Mental!
I've an appointment with my specialist on Friday morning and things may get rolling from there. However, there's one more thing they need to check on her before we can fully celebrate and set things in motion. But if that's ok (fingers crossed mainly for her), then yes...we'll be going ahead. And the chances of that are looking good.

Mental state
I feel the way I used to feel roughly a year ago or so when I got up in the morning, went to work, saw mates and did stuff. I feel...what's the word....normal (hah, or as normal as a person like me can get)? And.....cautiously optimistic. Things are going pretty damned well so far and I'm fairly accustomed to getting bitch slapped by life around now-ish when I receive good news. So although I appear to be very slowly leaving the box my sub-conscious had pushed me into, I'm very aware that at any point, something could happen to force me back in. And this time, if I go straight back in, it'll be with force and it'll hurt.

I'm informed there's a possibility the operation could happen in December or January. I'm not touching December as surgery will be followed by 6 months (plus) of monitoring with hospital visits, tests after tests, things potentially going wrong....and...I don't really fancy that over the holiday period or want to risk being in hospital for Christmas or New Year.
And I don't want to put her through the same. I think that'd be a touch mean. Especially if we have a choice.
Plus....not only will that be a hell of a way to start 2015, but my birthday's in January...a nice birthday present for 31 year old me.

So I'm treading carefully. Very carefully. But for now...I almost...almost feel like my old self again.
After the last few months, I'm also slowly reintegrating myself into society after having isolated myself for my, and others, protection from my head state.

So yeah...I'm in a good place at the moment. I can still feel a leash on the back on my head, ready to pull me back when the shit hits the fan, but otherwise...I'm risking actually being a bit content. I've still got lots on my mind, but that's a given. That's just me.

I'm also aware that anxiety now has a place in my head and occasionally I can feel its threatening tug, but Tom and I had a conversation in the car this weekend and he confirmed that I'm no longer as bad as I used to be. They may still threaten (like one did a couple of weekends back when the most random moment set off a mini attack in my head and I had to briefly take myself away from company), but they're far more in my control and I'm still doing freelance work and leaving the house, which, as Tom pointed out, I was threatening not to do any more due to a growing agoraphobia.

That's the word....I feel....in control.

When realisation hits home

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And an additional explanation

Went to see Lucy last night: a film about a woman who, due to circumstances out of her control, ends up progressively channelling larger portions of her brain than the average human. That's no spoiler....it's pretty much the focal point of the trailers.

Throughout the film, I felt myself getting progressively more emotional, at bits which didn't really call for any form of empathy. As the film progressed, it suddenly gave me a minor epiphany, a realisation about myself. Well...I say minor...it resulted in my dragging Tom to the side of the building at the end of the film, squeezing him for all I was worth, getting emotional and just opening up in a wave of crazy, which I hadn't done in a while as every time I'd tried....I'd taken the wrong approach and just turned sour on him instead. So I'd put myself on lock down.
I've currently got a mini nuclear device brewing inside me and he's the one most likely to get hit by it, so I lock down so that doesn't happen. Whenever I tried to open the door, I realised he'd just get hit by waves of it, so in the end I just stopped.
I stand in the nuclear hub, looking out at him....and the world....from within....behind the perspex glass. Mainly because I find every time I steadily approach the subject with others, my mind seems to go 'god, no one wants to hear this crap any more...give it a rest'. And I stop. Then even potentially leave the room out of frustration for myself.

Cos that's the only way to protect people right?....Right...?

And the epiphany?
At one point (without giving away spoilers) Lucy states that she is using such a high capacity of her brain, emotions are becoming rarer and she can no longer....feel.
There's another point where she....kind of engages...with herself (no, not on a kinky level. Take your mind out of the gutter!) and that's when it hit me. I realised I've shut everyone out to the point where I've even shut off from myself. To the point where I don't really know myself any more. I even (and this is the hardest bit to admit because I feel like I can no longer be there for people like I used to be...) still feel the external emotions that come at me in waves and the atmosphere in a room, but then I instinctively hold my hand out and start....slowly...pushing it away, fearing that if external emotions come anywhere near this nuclear device I'm standing in the way of, it'll overload and .....well *holds both hands up then releases them in mini 'pff' motion*.

This....this protection...it isn't even armour to protect the wound the way it used to be. Now it's more. I'm in a box. And I've done the lid up so tight, I can't even get myself out. I even struggle to in counselling. I try and express what's going through my head, but it just doesn't want to come forward.
Seeing the film...somehow...made me realise this. Honestly, I'm not even sure how. I think it was something to do with the protagonist's way of interacting with the world that seemed...unnervingly familiar. Minus the awesome levels of intellect and special additional shit she gets.
Now that, hell, if I had that on top of what's been going through my head, I'd almost welcome the closed off sensation. At least that way I'd benefit from it.

In all honesty, reading back over this after I wrote it last night and tidied it up this morning, I'm realising a lot of people are probably going 'well.....duh!'. But sometimes the answers aren't obvious to the person going through them. I've encountered that myself when talking to people. Sometimes, a swift nudge from an unexpected direction is what's needed. To hit that part of the brain conventional methods can't hit. And last night...that happened to me.
Which now makes me wonder how many people I've frustrated in their attempts to give me that exact message.

On that note:
Friends have been offering themselves up as vessels for my worries....asking me to talk to them if I need to. But honestly, when you're this far entrenched in a box, you can't find the right words any more....and find yourself repeating everything. And that itself can be.....draining.
Not that I'm not grateful. I will always be grateful for the offers. More than I could say. It's just...I don't know how to words any more.
Even in previous entries, I felt like I was missing something....and this is the closest I've got in a while. Well...that's how it feels to me anyway.
The rest of it is just blllaaahhhhh....noise.

Some more rambling...

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Maybe if I record my thoughts in enough places.............they won't be in my head any more....

[Note: I wrote this earlier this morning...then went out shopping, then re-read the draft and tidied it up....however, I think this is more a stream of consciousness to help me understand what's going on inside my head more than anything else. And might make an interesting read]

Update on the sitch 

The test is happening on Tuesday. Then we won't find out for another couple of weeks (I think). These next two weeks are my busiest in regard to doing stuff. Including work. Probably for the best. Keep me busy...out of the house.

I find that I'm occasionally forgetting to take my medication again. It's not life threatening...I can risk missing a day (yes yes yes I know I know I shouldn't, but it really doesn't make a huge difference if I don't). Notice I didn't say 'a day or two'. I know two days'd be foolish.

However, sub-consciously I think I'm 'forgetting' to take them in a vein effort to try and stay normal until I under go the op and have to take half a pharmacy for the first 6 months, then just a little less, then a touch less after that....for the rest of my life.

[Christ...if all you need is a cup of OJ and some toast and not a hand full of meds just to start your day when you get up in the morning...take a moment to appreciate this].

Current head/physical state

I currently feel like I'm in a wind tunnel. I'm purposely not listening to music and don't have the tv on in the background like I normally do because I've got enough of a loud mess going on inside my head.
I think just once, this happened to me, then suddenly the noise in my head just stopped....and it actually scared me how quiet it actually was. I honestly thought I'd had the TV and radio plus some you tube thing happening on the internet. But no. It was just me and my thoughts.
I'm very aware that if someone were to try and speak to me right now, it won't actively go in [distraction].
[since writing this, I've had two relatively important calls.....that...were a challenge to undertake]

It's constant white noise...just with the odd decipherable word popping through. It's not the screen or white board in front of the eyes which I've mentioned before. It's....it's the fight or flight: It's awake, it's up....and it's loud.
How am I feeling physically? Ok so the above is mental. Physically, I've a touch of the shakes (barely noticeable, but it's there. I keep fumbling my writing and items I hold), the slurring may still be there...I'm not talking much so can't tell...and I feel nauseous. And finding myself sighing more due to not breathing as deeply as I should be (cue use for e-cig which helps me focus on my breathing). It's a sigh that makes me sound fed up, like I'm feeling extremely blue etc...but I'm not. It's more a case of my body going 'thoughtsthoughtsthoughts...oh shit, yeah ....oxygen'. Inhale.

I'm preparing to fight. Whether I actually do when the time comes is a different matter.

Stepping away and returning to a re-read of the above

Ok....ok that's interesting. After I wrote that sentence above, I felt like I could step away to come back and read this later.
Did that. And now my head is actually a touch quieter. I can hear the living room clock again.
It's as if confirming to myself that I'm preparing to fight, helped. Helped me understand my head.
Lol I now feel like Robert Downey Jr in 'Scanner Darkly' (Great film by the way).
In replacement to that, I can almost hear the cacophony of 'meditate/exercise/yoga' which is now passing through people's minds as they read this.
Unfortunately, when you're in a state like this it....well...have you ever stood in a particularly windy terrain with someone trying to shout something at you...into the wind so their voice is carried away? That. That's what everything turns into when you're in the above state. Again...wind tunnel effect.
You know people are giving you advice, you can hear it. It's just not registering or sinking in. You think 'oh yeah...really should do that...' then it's gone. And you forget again.

This blog demonstrates the idea that if you've too many thoughts overwhelming your head, get them out there. If you can't talk to someone, then write them down....video them.....get them out there one way or another.
Worried about them being discovered?.....bin/burn them. Tear them up. Just get those thoughts out of your head. Any way possible. Before they drown you.

[No title...needed]

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I haven't given this one a title because...didn't see the point really. I think the content is more important than what I label it.

Larp season is over, therefore my main source of distraction and release isn't available until next year so I'm now focusing my mind on work...

...and it just occurred to me that the next couple of weeks, or even next month, is crucial as I learn whether my donor can in fact under go the operation which could change my life (no pressure...).
Tension in my jaw and shoulders is back 3-fold, I'm back on the non-nicotine based e-cig as it gives me focus and helps moderate my breathing and I've found myself far more susceptible to zoning out...again.
The sense of clarity I had when I received the donor news has gone and the blanket I'd shrugged off is once again shrouding me.
My sense of distraction has increased, my concentration lowered and my memory is sporadic. I've found myself doing the 'thinking spin' far more frequently: that moment when you walk into a room to under take a simple task, let's say making a cup of tea. During the process, your brain notes you need a couple of items, and reach for one...doubt yourself and reach for the other. Within the space of 3 seconds, you can't work out which one would make sense to pick up first as your brain goes 'milk...no, spoon...no, milk...no, spoon' and you...quite literally...spin on the spot about 5 times until you realise what you're doing, stop....and force yourself to think properly.
I'm also listening to music on an almost constant basis now. Just so I don't....think. The rare times I don't listen to music is when I'm working or writing as that's just about enough to focus my thoughts into a linear process.
And random shots of headache which paracetamol and back rubs don't help.

My speech has also become slurred at times...I seem to develop a difficulty expressing myself and talking to others. This is worse when there's a high level of excitement and I'm trying to get my point across with a group of people who demand their voices be heard first. It's like being drunk without the high.
[in reference to the vlog: you'll probably notice now that my voice isn't quite as slurred...probably because I've a script before me and it's just me talking...so I've got time to think]

I have, however, noticed that I'm on slightly dangerous grounds: being naturally empathic, I can pick up on emotional readings just by walking into a room and it can make my brain explode. When I'm like THIS...it's worse. It's like my brain is trying to replace my own emotions by picking up on others, so I pick up on pretty much everything and anything without clear focus of where it's actually coming from and THAT can send me into override. Therefore...there's a danger I become isolated. I can't handle being around too many people, so I close myself off....and thus shut myself off from society, knowing if I pick up on too much negativity, words I immediately regret will come out of my face and damage can be done. Even if there's nothing malicious behind it at all.
I know there are a number of people who read my blog, heed my advice and look at things from a different perspective as per what I've described my situation to be like (I can't tell you how much I've appreciated those people writing to me and telling me this...it means a lot to know I'm making a difference through my experience).
So....how do I handle this and not isolate myself? ....there's no simple answer, I'm afraid. I just wing it. I cross each bridge as I come to it. I have to trust my gut instinct and if I was wrong...back away and try again another day. But that's how you learn.
Fortunately, when it comes to social events, I'm blessed with friends who understand my complicated head state and know when to joke, when to give me space and when to seriously check I'm ok.
Only once or twice in the past have I come across people who don't know me well enough and risked my unleashed wolfhound. Those moments have passed very swiftly...again...thanks to those friends who did understand me.

Ah...a bit of visualisation for you

I literally found this whilst waiting for the vlog to upload on YouTube.
This may have to be my new approach to any negative thoughts in the future..as long as I can maintain it.
This is a scene from The Watchmen...one of my all time favourite films. The guy with dialogue is Rorschach and it's the moment he's locked in prison for a reason which now evades me, but something that he's not to blame for...or something?
He is extremely bad ass, has been through the grinder, may seem like someone you'd cross the road to avoid but he'd probably throw a kitten out the window of a burning house if it meant saving its life. He's what I named my tattoo after.

Anyway! Positive thoughts:
- There's a couple of work things on the horizon
- I'm not depressed
- I can joke about the condition without losing hope
- I'm working off the renewed inner strength I was struggling to find last month

Frankie - AFK (Away From Keyboard)

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It's...been a while since I posted, mainly because I've actually been enjoying...being myself having overcome the depression I was hit with on and off last month. Mainly because I know, at some point in the future, there's a chance it'll hit again...

September is going to be a pretty huge month for us as my donor will be undergoing the physical tests to ensure she can under go the operation.
And I won't lie to you...I'm a little terrified.
I'm terrified if it's successful, I'm terrified if it's not.
I saw my counsellor yesterday and she highlighted to me the difference in my tone when I was talking about general, every day activities and the like then the latest health update...it couldn't be more obvious that I'm desperately pushing the latter onto the back burner until we've received more news. Recipient guilt is already kicking in.

I've got a larp event this weekend, from Friday to Monday....and I plan to forget everything taking place in the real world. I've no intention of reminding myself what's happening in a couple of weeks time, and I've no intention of getting emotional over the matter. And I plan on doing this by not discussing it. It's not more armour I'm putting on....it's more....indifference on the matter. Knowing it's there, but refusing to acknowledge it until I have to. Please don't mistake this for ingratitude. I'm extremely grateful that this opportunity has arisen and to the person in question. Seriously...It's why I was in such a bad state when I received the news...just utter shock that this opportunity presented itself to me.
I fully understand if the donor changes their mind because it's a difficult decision to make. But for now...to protect myself...ok maybe I am adding a touch more armour. But it's mainly a case of acknowledging it, but then putting those thoughts away.
If someone asks me about it, I may give a small smile, have a little...something...flash across my eyes which they may or may not notice, then move the subject onto something else.

This is a subject I...for now...want to forget about. The last event I was at, I was ridiculously melancholy (despite my laughter and messing around) for both in character and out of character reasons. Each reason felt as important as the other so it put me slightly out of sorts. I was even told by a good friend of mine at the end of the event that I hadn't seemed my usual self.

I'm sure reality will pop up every so often with a stick and beat a reminder into me that I'm unwell, through the usual leg ache, physical discomfort, difficulty catching my breathe and the odd palpitation, cos...y'know...fuck being able to do what you want when you're body's got a limit on it. But for now....
Enough. I want to enjoy myself. I may feel a touch melancholy due to in character reasons, but I refuse to be made to feel crap due to out of character reasons. I intend on having fun. And hopefully THIS time I won't be mildly crippled by neck and skull ache. Epic headache!

Then September can come around and slap me with the reality stick as much as it wants.
What I will say is the weeks around the test and the results we'll be seeing friends and lots of the family which I'm really grateful for as that'll almost enforce the feeling of support I have around me.

But for now...I just want to allow myself the luxury of running away....from me.
My counsellor forced me to accept that despite removing my armour after the news, that's what I was now doing....and this weekend, I wholeheartedly welcome it.

Am I finally seeing the end of this long tunnel?

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I began this entry on the day I received this news, just to record the full impact of my emotions. But truth is I'm posting it when I've seen my specialist, everything's confirmed and the ball is rolling. Given the number of road blocks we've encountered so far....I didn't want to tempt fate by posting this entry, then being informed we were back to square one.

This news came when we'd basically given up hope in finding a live donor, believing the antibodies to be a perpetual road block. Paired pooling was us going 'yeah....it's not going to happen is it...' then diving head first into an option which could have us waiting for up to 2 whole years before being considered for alternatives if nothing came to fruition.
This last donor test was a 'what the hell...let's give it a go and see what happens before we give up'. Y'know...just in case.

Therefore, it was an epic shock to the system to call the consultant on 30th July and be informed that this person was:

• Blood type O
• Cross match a success
• Tissue type 3 out of 6
• No antibody issues

'I'm sorry...what...I...could you repeat that?'
'No. Antibody. Issues.'

This person ticks all the boxes and can donate to me. A match

Holy....

Um...words failed me. That made the phone conversation particularly difficult as I had to keep squeaking to let her know I was still there whilst she continued to speak...then wait til we said goodbye before I could hang up then sit and stare at the wall...whilst my brain had a moment.
Only for a few minutes though as I had a counselling session literally half an hour later. I walked to the hospital in such a daze I'm actually surprised I didn't get run over by a car. I arrived just in time...then the month long overflowing dam just opened. I get the impression she may have struggled to keep up with me for the first 10 minutes.
After counselling, I went home, had a sandwich (not trusting myself with the stove) and just...stopped. I felt like I was rebooting. I felt numb. A month's worth of fighting depression, carrying heavy armour, trying to protect myself and others from a typhoon of crazy which I anticipated to carry for more months....only to start August with amazing news.
I can't express just how stunned I was...how stunned I AM. Seriously. This was the one test I was anticipating a negative result, anticipating it so I wouldn't fall ill as my body reacted against what my brain was fighting.

The weirdest part? At the beginning of the year I think, we were talking to the doctor about setting a theoretical date for an operation, if, say in the preceding months I did get a donor. Just to give us something to aim for. Just to set our minds on a target. Something to work towards. It's something we use to help us move forward. If we didn't have a donor by then, we'd go for paired pooling.
August was the date we gave. We're here now, and ok so it's not an operation, but it's a hella step closer!

I feel the same exhilaration I felt when Tom, after 7 months of unemployment, told me he'd got a job. Only bigger. I'm actually scared about feeling excited in case something stomps on this.
I genuinely stood on the train on the way to counselling and actually pinched myself to see if I was having a vivid dream. It's happened before.
So far...so good.

Next Step

Now we need to arrange the same physical exam Tom went through, for the donor to confirm all's well and good for the surgery itself. We'll then get the results, talk to my specialist in September and potentially even set a date for the operation (holy crap, right??)
If all goes well, I COULD (emphasis on the 'could') have an operation within the year.
There's a 'could' there because it's possible something might come up during the physical (finger's crossed for the donor, not as much for myself, this doesn't in fact happen!!), and 'could' because it's possible people who are more urgent will push my operation further and further along.

Honestly, if it IS delayed.....I really won't care. Given the fact that I'll have something so many other people out there are lacking....a donor.

So...how's the patient feeling?

Tired. Dazed. And apart from a headache which started on Thursday and seems to have lodged itself into the base of my skull and refuses to leave, I have a sense of clarity now I haven't had in I don't know how many months.
Throughout the whole of July and a touch in June....and in swathes throughout the year....I've been covered by a blanket of depression. One so heavy, I couldn't see through it and felt painfully...overwhelming. In July, things got a bit much and, to stop myself hitting breaking point, I thrust the armour back on. And although it was heavy, it stopped me from feeling the pain I knew I had inside. I could feel the emotions worming their way around my system, trying to break out...but I refused to allow it exit, mainly because I knew if I did, it risked hurting other people. Mainly because they'd see how hurt I was. So I pushed it down and away. That's not to say, when I had positive moments and moments of laughter, they weren't genuine and I didn't enjoy them....but there was always that heaviness...just there.

For the last month of so, I've been desperately leaning against a bulging cupboard door, which threatened to spill open and cover me in all the emotional and mental shit I've been packing away.
After the news and counselling, I felt so numb, dazed and the heaviest fishbowling I've encountered in a while, the next day I awake to a headache which symbolised all the stuff I'd packed away into that cupboard finally exploding and breaking through. My face hurt, my eyes hurt, my neck hurt. I felt pretty awful.

BUT.....I felt like the heavy blanket of denial and general emotional hell was....finally lifted. And I could breathe again. I went out to a casting on Thursday and for the first time I realised I was noticing sights, sounds, smells and so on clearer than I had done in a while. I was actually aware of the world around me. I'd honestly been so deep in my own mind, I drawn into myself so much, my senses had been dulled. And I hadn't realised this until the veil lifted. I can now think clearer than I have done in too....damned....long. I almost feel like myself again.
One thing I will say is light's now actually seem much brighter. In fact, on Friday, I found myself wearing sun glasses for the first time in how many years because just the reflection of the light on the clouds got a bit much.

The only problem with this is, if something does come up to interfere with the good news and a possible operation, there's a chance I could fall back again. There's a chance that if there's a rejection, I could be hit by a huge dose of recipient guilt. There's a whole load of possibilities loaded up in the future, a whole bucket of shit waiting to fall on me.....

....but for now...I'm going to ignore the 'what if's'. I'm going to ignore the possible sword of damocles hanging over the whole situation. I'm just going to enjoy the good feeling and sense of clarity which comes with this sense of peace. Whilst it lasts :)