I am running at the mouth, no I mean at the fingers. I am all disclosure no filter. What a stupid stupid way to be. Yeah…I wrote before about how these kinds of means of communication are sometimes misunderstood by the masses. And I do indeed think that the things I go through could serve as learning curves for those needing a direction or point of empathy if they, too, might feel similar sentiments at times. But, eh? Not all that. No way.

I also realize that me moving has stirred up a TON of residual bullshit. The sad miserable feelings I had before I moved out of Colorado as a kid are still in the back of my mind, creepily enough. The feelings that I had leaving all of my friends also have not permitted me to fully invest myself in my experience here, always comparing and contrasting. I had musings of leaving, going somewhere else, until I realized…I don’t want to be anywhere else. I really don’t. I will make my way, I will find my experiences. It’s not about letting things happen here, it’s more about making things happen here. In NY you could often just put yourself somewhere and things would just, you know, occur. Here, actions have a little more meaning and are a little more deliberate. Which is ok–it’s a cultural shift I need to remember and get used to again.

Val spoke to me at length today about my fears and stood by as an excellent sounding board because she was able to really fully understand what I was afraid of and why considering her own daughter has gone through many of the same experiences I have in terms of hospitalizations, surgeries, doctors, etc. She also understood my worries about finding friends and ending up with someone who was strong enough to handle me in all of my potent charm. She wins because she did not say anything at all when I started crying to her, only to respond with similar stories…points to her for actively empathizing.

But you know what? I’m good. I am no fool. I am fun. I might wax poetic about being sad sometimes but generally that description is not one people who know me in the flesh would use. I am a little mad at myself for letting D take me into the netherworld of yuck yesterday, sparking a lot of doubt I slept on last night and let sear my soul today. But I kicked it out. Beat it, who invited you? Not me. I just was getting philosophical in one of our conversations about relationships and hit the bottom, and I don’t mean just skimmed the bottom, oh no. I crashed hard with a deafening thud and even scared myself. I probably scared the crap out of everyone I spoke with as well, until I remembered that heart surgery not killing me probably meant I wouldn’t die of a broken heart.

I also (shock!) addressed a skeleton in the midst of my bottoming out today–I answered the phone for a devilish 800 number which hid the responsibility of a loan I am starting to pay to get back on track. So the debt is starting to lesson and wane.

And tomorrow is the secondary appointment to my tooth issue down in Denver. And then Saturday morning to early afternoon are my small business workshops and experiences. And next week is Tai Chi and Qi Gong. Oh, and get this, I have decided that I am going to go on a little writers retreat with a bunch of people I don’t know for a week in July. I mean, they’re writers, men and women. But that’s really all I know about them.

I just have to keep chugging along, keep this momentum going and stop tripping and flipping on the stuff that doesn’t matter at the end of the day. Oh man, there is a LOT of shit that doesn’t matter. Much much more than doesn’t matter than does these days…and I will fire my damn self if I ever skid near the bottom over nothing again. A total and complete waste of time, that’s for sure. That’s still only the 3rd, 4th time I have shed tears since I arrived over sadness and not happiness. Beats my weekly cryathons in NY, that’s for dang sure.