I have been thinking about the extent to which I am different, in both act and thought. I have come to the conclusion that my changing perception of myself is a bit like who Doctor Who regenerates. He keeps the same memories, but his body and thoughts are new. (The best bit apparently each time discovering that he is not ginger!)
It’s kind of a shame I don’t get a whole new physical body. Pregnancy stretch marks and crappy coeliac disease I could live without. However, this would negate the time and effort I have put into running, so maybe I will settle for the one I have. My sleeping has got better, or at least I am seeing a lot less of 3am, and I am hungry *all* the time, which is odd as for a long time I have had no appetite at all. The physical seems to be slowly on the mend, although I suspect this will be a slightly quicker process than the psychological repair that needs to take place.
The memories I have, some of which are uncomfortable, I need to help me be a better person. What is the point of regenerating if you can’t learn from your past or at to try and make amends? Even worse I can’t actually even remember everything I did wrong, so what I am left with is an uncomfortable significant silence in my record of events.
My regeneration is definitely a work in progress. There has not been a magic moment where I changed, as over the weeks the shifts have been small but important. The story of me is changing all the time.