My bed is broken, not all the time and its better than it use to be.  I have made a valiant effort to repair it myself, yet it remains precarious.  I did all the things I said I was going to.  I was diligent this time in doing it right and not just making a half-assed attempt to prop it up or patch it.  Perhaps not surprisingly, I found and corrected several things wrong with my bed.  There was no one big problem undermining the stability of my bed, more like a lot of little ones that contributed to each other leading to the unavoidable collapses.   

Others that have had the experience can attest to the perilous nature of sharing my bed.  Breakdowns do not discriminate and will take anyone in my bed down with me.  Its no wonder, nobody stays in my bed for long.  Since the latest efforts to fix my bed, there haven’t been any full-on crashes.  Sure, if the activities in my bed get too foolhardy the predictive precursors to it falling apart are obvious, but so far I have been able to avert another failure.  It would seem I am not quite done with the process of fixing my bed.   

So, to continue using my bed as a metaphor for my life, I would have to say . . .  

My life is broken, not all the time and its better than it use to be.  I have made a valiant effort to repair it myself, yet it remains precarious.  I did all the things I said I was going to.  I was diligent this time in doing it right and not just making a half-assed attempt to prop it up or patch it.  Perhaps not surprisingly, I found and corrected several things wrong with my life.  There was no one big problem undermining the stability of my life, more like a lot of little ones that contributed to each other leading to the unavoidable collapses.   

Others that have had the experience can attest to the perilous nature of sharing my life.  Breakdowns do not discriminate and will take anyone in my life down with me.  Its no wonder, nobody stays in my life for long.  Since the latest efforts to fix my life, there haven’t been any full-on crashes.  Sure, if the activities in my life get too foolhardy the predictive precursors to it falling apart are obvious, but so far I have been able to avert another failure.  It would seem I am not quite done with the process of fixing my life.   

My latest conclusion is that I can’t fix my bed all by myself, though I don’t know where to find the help I need.  For now I’ll just practice restraint in my bed and wait to see if someone shows up to lend a hand.  Guess it isn’t going to be as easy as I thought to fix my bed.  Still, I have hope that one day I will not have to be so cautious about jumping into bed and just maybe I won’t have to be alone in my bed either.  Now wouldn’t that be nice!

Link to My Broken Bed.

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