Small victories. Les petite victoires. I'm feeling much better. Jean's out and about right now.
It's me. Kim. ME. I can say it now. I can use my own words, I can use pronouns! I can type grammatically, though I'm having to resist the urge to add multiple exclamation marks and chatspeak to this as I type. I feel almost back to normal. It's been a slow progress, but something must have happened, just snapped in my head, and pulled me back to reality. I'm normal. Normal-ish.
We've been in this town a week. No sign of -
Okay, not that much, I'm not going to push it. Sorry. There are still some things that I can't-- that I struggle with. Jean said that getting me to be coherent and aware is a massive improvement to how I was. I don't want to look back on the other posts. It made sense in my head but there was something in the connection between my head and my mouth.
Jean is slumped. She was happier some when I got back together last week. (She uses the term "Came back" but I didn't go anywhere, I was just locked up in my own head...) But she's not well at all. I'm so relieved that I'm able to talk that everything else seems distant, but nothing seems to stay happy for her anymore.
I'm babbling again. It's difficult to keep my head safe, but I'll do it. For Jean. She doesn't deserve to lose anyone else. Then again, nobody deserves to lose their friends... their family.
Just an update, and I had to display my new-found powers of pronouns to the world! I hope Jean gets back soon-- there's an envelope for her. I hope she didn't go out drinking again.