I have been feeling for a while like the interesting parts of me are fading away.  Or I’ve been losing pieces of myself.  And I have to say that writing and talking has, even in this short time, REALLY helped start to turn that around.  At least now I remember that I like words and I can use them and make things out of them.  Things committed to ‘paper’ become tangible in the untangible parts of the world.  I write, therefore I am.  I write, therefore I will become more.

I am hungover today from crying yesterday.  I hate crying, like really hate it.  The tears, the snot, the blotchy redness, the puffiness.  It seems like the dumbest evolutionary thing possible.  When we’re really upset we spew gross fluids so we can’t see see or properly articulate anything and if we do it too much/too long we throw up (or is that just me?).  How, as a species, is that useful to us at all?  I should try and make it useful to myself somehow.  Like put $5 in savings every time I cry (not just tearing up, but outright crying) and then eventually I can tattoo the help out my back or something, as I’m sure there’s still more crying in my future.  *sigh*

Hawthorn has been trying to help his 18-yo son solve a problem and yesterday morning he said to me, “[My son] has two perfectly capable parents willing to help him, to do anything for him, and he won’t even ask until it’s utterly desperate.”  Hmmm, who does that remind me of? Myself.  It was, perhaps, a tiny reminder from the universe that I do need to be focusing on and practicing asking for help when I need it, when it’s easy, before it becomes desperate. Along with yesterday’s reminder in therapy that it’s okay to upset people, protecting them from how I’m feeling doesn’t solve anything. Though I think I am really doing the best I can in both of those aspects right now.  I’m mean it’s not like I can ask anyone to help me wipe up my snot.  I’ll just keep pushing on until it gets better.

I am feeling alright today, still lethargic and tired, but I think that’s the Lexapro more than anything else.  I have enough work to distract me for the day and, hopefully well into the evening. Still, my bright future seems slightly dimmed by today’s grim weather and it’s hard not wonder how much better my life could have been if I had been kidnapped by fairies when I played in that fairy ring in my front yard as a child.  I bet you can have all the cowboy boots you want in fairy land.  Even if they are just glamoured on.

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