About a month ago, I was on my way home from the college I teach, at the moment, I go there twice a week, this song Uta no Kehai by dear Ichiko Aoba was being played  through “shuffle play”in my car and I burst into tears.
.
Tears of joy knowing I have such a great work where I am accepted as who I am fully and so I can accept and appreciate every being therewith ease, I have a community of wonderful students and families for private lessons, a comfy space to teach and my grand piano I bought on my own, my digital piano, my son is healthy and doing well in many aspects of his own life and part sharing with me still, loving partner who is willing to put effort in the relationship, my family is doing fine back in Japan, etc but at the same time part of me actually was crying for why it took so long to have so called “what seems normal” for me.
What is normal anyway.
Japanese normal? Australian normal? Universal normal?
.
When “perfect day” film came out and I went to watch it, I remembered when my parents told me when they got together, they lived in an apartment like the main character lived in the film.
Two small rooms.
The only difference was my parents’ apartment had a toilet in a corner of one room. No door.
My brother was born and my mum was brave enough to take herself with my brother back then a baby to a public bath nearby for there was no shower in the apartment. 
.
My brain tend to think of the worst scenario naturally ( PTSD) so when I became a single mother, I thought I will end up in a boarding house and sharing the kitchen and bathroom with others and I really thought with my mental vulnerability, my son would be taken away from me.
.
Oh my brain state was not great.
.
I do not come from a shiny family background.
.
I do not even know who my grand father was like and the other families he had.
.
I have been managing “bi polar 2 “ bit over 10 years or so and I think I am in a good position with my own kind of routine, rewarding jobs, and I can check in with myself being careful not overdoing anything includes socialising which can be too stimulating for me.
.
For some of us I guess self care is to have somewhat stable jobs that give us hopes, rewarding enough and fair wages according to your skills and experiences and this can take a long time to get when one come from overseas and have some mental vulnerabilities while my heart aches for people getting killed with bombs.

Ah my brain.

Me ups and down.

Life.