The trouble with Rapid Cycling bloggers

I have just received a metaphorical kick in the arse by one Miss Seaneen Molloy http://thesecretlifeofamanicdepressive.wordpress.com, in the form of an email stating that I had better “UPDATE OR SHALL I FIND YOU AND MAKE YOU DO SO”. As she does not seem the type of person I should like to cross, and because my gross negligence of this project has officially crossed over into the realm of hilarity; I find myself once again inspired and ready for literary buffoonery.

I had actually began a post at some point early last month, but failed to finish for reasons made obvious by the post itself. I had intended to return to it and revise, but then my mood pendulum swung gaily to the left, and hitting ‘publish’ would have felt quite like lying, so I let it go.

But here it is anyway, just in case you were wondering

Panic Aggression and Par-annoy-a

Nothing is wrong. No one is upset with me and I haven’t started any major fires yet. I am not in trouble with the law and I still have a job. I am not being evicted, my little has been fed and tended to and my living room is as tidy as it is ever going to be.

So why am I so ferociously afraid? What is this constant lump in my throat and why do I feel like my life is spiraling out of control? I am Catherine O’Hara on the airplane just before she screams “KEVIN!”

I have completely ruined life and am desperately searching for the reset button.

Logically, I am having an episode. I dropped enough acid in my formative years to be able talk myself down from anything, but mostly it just feels like rationalization. Everything is fine. God’s not disappointed in me. I still am only a minuscule speck in an ever expanding universe and nothing, NOTHING that I have done or could do in my life will cause so much of an upheaval that it will upset the balance of reality. This isn’t real. This is a by-product of my cranial fizzes and pops not fizzing and popping like they oughtta. Logically, I’m right on track.

I wish my emotions were logical.

Whew! Thank Frank that’s over. I am actually quite fine now, thank you. I have just celebrated my 28th complete revolution around the sun. I had literally The Best Birthday of my life thus far. My favorite boys played a show and I danced like my life depended on it. Honestly, if you ever get a chance to see A Gun That Shoots Knives, please, please do so. They embody giddiness and all that is magical in the world.

The fantastical night of debauchery and Tom Foolery was followed by an early morning drive to my old stomping grounds for a memorial of epic proportions. A favorite uncle and truly inspiring human being had passed away this winter, having family and friends dispersed across at least three states, the memorial had been postponed until the snow had a chance to melt.

The six hour car ride alone was an experience unto itself. I had mixed two-hundred and forty minutes of choice music and giggled in the back seat with my little one while my buddy Jimmy and my Auntie bonded in the front. I cried from happy nearly the entire way as I had pretty much had the greatest night prior, and was headed to see almost my entire family and many of my most favorite folk who have known me since I was just wee, and continue to love me regardless.

I was allowed to cut the reigns on the kiddo and let her run free with all of the other wild children. We do not live in a small town, and my grip is tight and smothering to a young one with such strong wings and desire to use them. But once in the safety of my old home, the baby was off and flying.

I was relishing in my own freedom too. I used to be afraid of people who knew me too well. I had always felt that too much familiarity would somehow stifle growth. As if those around us could keep us trapped and can limit us by their preconceived notions of who we are. Oh, I could not have been more wrong.

For someone who often feels disconnected from humanity, unconditional love can hit hard and unexpectedly, leaving no room for anxiety and self doubt.

I am so unbelievably and unwaveringly grateful for those who count me a part of their lives and have carved out small me-sized spaces in their hearts for me. I can be quite a lot to deal with, and at times I seem so self absorbed that I am not seeing you. But I am. I always am. Sometimes I just don’t possess the language to tell you.You keep me humble.

I came home from my trip to find that some good friends had cleaned my room in my absence. BEST. BIRTHDAY. EVER!

With butterfly kisses and marmalade dreams. Your Everlovin’,

C.T.W.

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