I'm taking a few days off from the blog universe. But I will be writing.
Let me end the week with this. I had a really good therapy session today, if good is defined by hitting on hard things about what was real instead of what was neatly packaged and protected by me from a very early age and with good reason--reasons I'm not supposed to be angry at myself for. Okay. I can try that. I'm wiped though. I feel like my nerve endings are protruding through my scalp, but my body feels tired and slow. I wish I could sleep, but I have to go pick up energetic jenna. It's a feeling not unlike whiplash to go from therapy to jenna.
Mostly today I am amazed at people who can keep their heads above water with the freelance life. I have learned a fundamental truth: In general, it takes forever to get paid. Way longer than the cash in your bank account lasts. Is this one of Murphy's Laws?
I'm depressed today, but not in a bad way. In a good way. In a way that tells me it's good to be still. It's good to sit with this. Good to feel it. It's not going to kill me. It's not the terror i'm used to. It's something even bigger than that. It has to be, since whatever it's called has trumped my panic. And nothing has ever done that.
Maybe it's saying goodbye to a bastard of a 40th year. One I never saw coming.
One I wouldn't trade for anything.
I can't believe I'm saying that.
Who have I become?
me?
