cost of everything and the value of nothing
What would you do if there was nothing you needed to do? I'd like to think I'd read more, study more, cook more adventurous food, work out more, escape to the country more... The list goes on and on but the word "more" crops up fairly often, along with the words "farm", "horse", "swimming pool", "look fabulous" and - most especially - "staff". In my lottery-win-fuelled life, I imagine myself as a cross between Barbara Good and Lady Lara Croft (as played by Ms Jolie): riding, farming, lording and (ethically) shopping.
TA shows us the error of our ways. With nothing he needs to do he has found his life reduced rather than enriched. Putting aside the finance issue, I try to encourage him: galleries, art, craft, DIY, singing, dancing, running, walking, volunteering, reading, writing, drawing, modelling (both kinds!), learning, cooking, cleaning... But the truth is that when the world doesn't value your time you don't have the time to value the world.
I remember the rising panic and claustrophobia well. The feeling that there's a whirling dervish of pain spinning round and round in the brain, all that energy and thought, but going nowhere - abort, abort, abort before you see your life disappear down the plughole vortex. I only had three months of it and I was clinging on to my sanity by my fingernails. Could you tell?
I admire my husband; I'm incredibly proud of him. Through sheer luck - and with constant emotional support from TA - I managed to escape after sipping the poison he's been drowning in. He's a survivor. He's a hero. But is it any wonder that he's looking for an escape route?