So Xanga made me change my layout. In a panic I picked one of the most purplish themes that I could.

Things are not setttled. I am officially swirling in panic. Everything is about to change, and I am not nearly as ready as I should be. In three weeks I will be experiencing new everything. This is incredibly exciting and wonderful on most days. But I cannot seem to catch up to my circumstances. I fear that if I do this dream will vanish.

Childish? Yes. Normal? Well...as normal as I get. At least I am playing a lot. I truly think that is the only thing that has kept me from the brink. It's time to sleep.

Feeling overwhelmed today. I just cannot seem to settle into a balanced perspective; instead, I find myself to be flooded with the ENTIRE picture. Everything feels too sharp, too hard, too difficult. I think it is because I have been trying to ignore a realization that I have had of late. In theory, I know that I am ready for this next step.

Convincing my inner toddler that I am ready is another matter. There's no halfway point with me lately. I am either completely calm, or feeling the need to peel off my skin because I am emotionally overloaded. I do not feel strong, I do not feel brave. Just afraid. I am tired of always having to pull myself through these ordeals on my own. Why can't I just learn this vicariously through the wonders of television like everyone else?

I know, I know - I just have to buck up and get on with it, realize that we all go through these things and all of that life stuff. I guess I am just longing for a little less inner conflict and a lot more whimsy in my life. I need to learn how to quiet myself...or at least how not to turn every little decision into an epic inner struggle. Suggestions are welcome.   

Feeling good, for the first time in recent memory. Things are possible again, things are open-which sure as hell beats the claustrophobia that had permeated into my being before I turned myself inside out.

It is coming up on the fifth anniversary of my moving back to Sudbury. This time of year has weighed heavily on me in the past because each anniversary of my move reminded me of how I felt I had failed, and how I had yet to get back on the horse, skip town, and do the one thing that I was "born" to do. What I have come to realize in recent months is that I am where I should be. Music is what brought me back to life, what coaxed me away from the edge of the cliff. Coming home is what helped me find my way. I have had to face every ghost, every loose end, every blunder I have ever made. It has been eerie and difficult and almost always painful. It has also been invigorating and wonderous. I feel light, I feel young.

Amazing what happens when you take the chip off your shoulder, isn't it?