Wednesday, September 3, 2014


I know you're used to grand, sweeping confessions here on the blog-o, but this one is the biggest yet (and possibly ever).

(wait for it)


For the last ten days I've thrashed wildly against the perils of being alone. The negative self-talk, the cookie monster, and The Darkness. Instead of throwing my usual weapons into the mix (distracting podcasts, season two of Orange is the New Black, margaritas, salted carmel things), I've faced these demons with only the cunning use of meditation, tears, and an unending well of desperation.

There was a lot of thrashing.

I'm not on the other side right now. Most people write and publish these things once they're safely on the distant shore from crazy, but I'm still swimming.

Well, I'm dead-man's floating. Mostly underwater with occasional surfacing to breathe a bit, and then turning inwards yet again to face my navel.

This is reason number one why I hate EPL. She had a pretty good life (as did I), and then had a year of crazy wandering, and then was fine. And she wrote from the space of being fine, after having made it through. This is not helpful to read when your eyes are filled with saltwater.

Reason number two is also my sweeping confession. She ended her journey with love. She stopped denying herself, found herself, and then came to resolution when she found a man. I'm noticing this sickening compulsion I have to "make it through" until someone on a white, shining horse can come sweep me away from my muck and my problems.

This makes me yell at myself the way I yell at Rapunzel,

You have to learn how to save yourself.

Eat. Pray. Eat again. Pray again. Love unabashedly and with total abandon, but do not write love as the end of the story. Love requires prayer. And eating.

The dead man's float is about resting and saving up your energy until you're ready to lift your head out of the water and get your bearings again.

I've stolen some peeks out through soggy eyelashes, and sometimes I get really scared by how far away the land is. Most times, I'm grateful to still be floating.

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