How nice it must be...

 ... to have a diagnosis that places all the burden for managing your illness on your friends 

AND 

confirms that anyone who suggest you may have a role to play in your behaviour is a Bad Person.

A short story I wanted to save

 An old man, a great painter, sells tickets on the street to see a gallery of his greatest works.

While he waits for sales, he doodles on the tickets with the stub of a pencil.

Word spreads that the great painter is painting again, and people throng to buy tickets.

When people buy a ticket, he is happy, but then he finds out they are keeping them and framing them, and he grows sad, because no one wants to see his paintings.

"Why do they not want to see my works?" he laments, and he hangs more on the walls.

Later, he stands in the empty gallery surrounded by his paintings and wonders why no one will come and see his work, while outside the excited queue for tickets grows longer.

A pun I want to save

 There was an A A Milne themepark in Kilburn for a long time and it had steam powered versions of the animal characters that you could rent for long rides. You'd fill them up with briquettes and fire up the boilers and they would walking, albeit stiffly, down the paths of the park. Much merriment ensued.

And in case they ran out of fuel, there was a cloth "hod" beside the saddle, full of spare briquettes. It was sealed by very strong stitches to keep the heavy contents from spilling out, as the animals lumbered clumsily on their merry ways.

Each animal was cared for by a specialised crew who knew the attraction inside and out and all its individual peculiarities. Changing teams was actively discouraged, and each team prided itself on the individual performance of the animal they maintained.

One day, while touching up the bright-coloured enamel gilding around the saddle of the Winnie the Pooh automaton, the worker noticed that the famous bear's cloth fuel sack was splitting and, as his hands were full, he shouted urgently to the crew working next to him at a donkey, "Hey you! Get over here and stitch up this fuel sack!"

Unfortunately team pride prevailed, and the seamstress shouted back "Don't call me, seat painter, 'cause I can't go, I sew my coal to the stumpin' Eeyore"

To the people who watched me do CPR from the restaurant window:

Fuck you.

and to the people who helped out, including the people who asked if 911 had been called, the lady with the dog who got the AED, the guy who ran into get naloxone, and the guy who held her airway open while I did my thing, thanks!

Trauma.

I know your trauma informs your attitude and your behaviours. 

It makes me very understanding and sympathetic for you. 

It does not make me accept your behaviours 

Horror Movies

 You know that moment in a horror or drama movie where everything could just be solved if everyone got into one room and told the truth?

That's astonishingly common in real life.

SIT DOWN

TELL THE TRUTH

EVERYTHING WILL BE FINE

Hazmat suits on!

 Ok, looks like I gotta wade through some muck. Maybe a lot of muck.

So:

Priorities: 

1. My own safety: If the muck gets too high for my PPE, or my health starts to suffer, I'm out
2. The muck is not anyone's fault. If we get distracted by blame, we need to refocus
3. The muck has to get removed, that has to be the mission.
4. The muck could affect innocent people. If I see that happening, I need to step in an redirect the muck, following priority 1, of course.

The purpose of a safety mindset is to prevent the hazard from impacting the worker. So the hazard here is getting involved in muck, getting muck on me, or making more muck.

So I will tell the truth about muck when asked. I will not make more muck, I will not bring muck home.