I really, really believe this. I think we know, deep down in that quiet place, which road is best for us.

It seems that I left my own “best road” a long time ago without even realizing it, and believe that I have only returned to it over the course of the past few months. I still struggle against the inevitable pull toward that path which I traveled for so long, the path which, though it wasn’t my best path, seemed the easiest to follow at the time.

It’s easy to stray from my best path because it is still so unfamiliar, and there are distractions, or I get lazy. But mostly, I stray from the path when I become fearful…. Fearful that my dreams aren’t realistic or that they’re childish or selfish, that I might never achieve them no matter how hard I try, or that, in reaching for my dreams I might hurt the ones I love.

Despite all of this, I genuinely believe that our best paths are really much clearer, and safer (certainly for our sanity) than we imagine. I believe it will become easier to follow the best path as I learn to not struggle so much against myself and as I come to trust myself more.

What I’ve found as I navigate through and around all of my current doubts (“Am I really a lesbian?”, “How could I be a lesbian when I’ve never loved a woman (which I’ve discovered isn’t really true–I just didn’t recognize it for what it was)?”, “How could I be a lesbian when I’ve never made love to a woman (did I wonder whether I was straight before I had sex with a man?)?”, “How could I be a lesbian and never have even thought about it?”, “If I come out as a lesbian what will happen?”, and most recently, “Are the things I am coming to realize I want from a relationship with another person realistic?”, “Will I ever find someone who loves me just the way I am; knows me, truly, and loves me just the same–or perhaps even more for it?”, “Can I find someone for whom I would feel the same?”, and all of those other worries that sometimes make me question where I am and what I’m doing), is that there is a path that, when I am on it, makes me feel whole. It is my authentic path, and I know it. Frankly, I don’t know where it’s going to lead me or what I will pass through or experience. Letting go of all those questions, or rather–divesting myself of those questions and their inevitable expectations–and simply pursuing my truth is leading me toward my dream of being the authentic me, whoever I happen to be. It takes a lot of weight off, really. It gives me the courage to do the things I’m doing these days without worrying that I’m committing to something that might not end up being “my way”. It sounds hedonistic–and it’s certainly the most hedonistic thing I’ve ever done–but I’m doing what makes me happy–genuinely happy.

I follow the wholeness as best I can, knowing that it is my best path, and trying not to stand in my own way. And when I stumble or stray (which happens a lot–I’m like a toddler just learning to walk!), if I stop, it’s as though the wholeness finds me and leads me back to the path. I am generally not at peace as there are so many new places to explore (Coelho has much to say about that, too–for instance, “When we renounce our dreams and find peace…we go through a short period of tranquility. But the dead dreams begin to rot within us and infect our entire being.”); but I have something now which I haven’t had in my entire adult life and it is a beautiful thing. As I said to Michelle, and told a friend yesterday, it’s as though I am chasing a unicorn–something I’ve never seen, or at best have only caught glimpses of, but which I believe in just the same.

I really, really believe this. I think we know, deep down in that quiet place, which road is best for us.

It seems that I left my own “best road” a long time ago without even realizing it, and believe that I have only returned to it over the course of the past few months. I still struggle against the inevitable pull toward that path which I traveled for so long, the path which, though it wasn’t my best path, seemed the easiest to follow at the time.

It’s easy to stray from my best path because it is still so unfamiliar, and there are distractions, or I get lazy. But mostly, I stray from the path when I become fearful…. Fearful that my dreams aren’t realistic or that they’re childish or selfish, that I might never achieve them no matter how hard I try, or that, in reaching for my dreams I might hurt the ones I love.

Despite all of this, I genuinely believe that our best paths are really much clearer, and safer (certainly for our sanity) than we imagine. I believe it will become easier to follow the best path as I learn to not struggle so much against myself and as I come to trust myself more.

What I’ve found as I navigate through and around all of my current doubts (“Am I really a lesbian?”, “How could I be a lesbian when I’ve never loved a woman (which I’ve discovered isn’t really true–I just didn’t recognize it for what it was)?”, “How could I be a lesbian when I’ve never made love to a woman (did I wonder whether I was straight before I had sex with a man?)?”, “How could I be a lesbian and never have even thought about it?”, “If I come out as a lesbian what will happen?”, and most recently, “Are the things I am coming to realize I want from a relationship with another person realistic?”, “Will I ever find someone who loves me just the way I am; knows me, truly, and loves me just the same–or perhaps even more for it?”, “Can I find someone for whom I would feel the same?”, and all of those other worries that sometimes make me question where I am and what I’m doing), is that there is a path that, when I am on it, makes me feel whole. It is my authentic path, and I know it. Frankly, I don’t know where it’s going to lead me or what I will pass through or experience. Letting go of all those questions, or rather–divesting myself of those questions and their inevitable expectations–and simply pursuing my truth is leading me toward my dream of being the authentic me, whoever I happen to be. It takes a lot of weight off, really. It gives me the courage to do the things I’m doing these days without worrying that I’m committing to something that might not end up being “my way”. It sounds hedonistic–and it’s certainly the most hedonistic thing I’ve ever done–but I’m doing what makes me happy–genuinely happy.

I follow the wholeness as best I can, knowing that it is my best path, and trying not to stand in my own way. And when I stumble or stray (which happens a lot–I’m like a toddler just learning to walk!), if I stop, it’s as though the wholeness finds me and leads me back to the path. I am generally not at peace as there are so many new places to explore (Coelho has much to say about that, too–for instance, “When we renounce our dreams and find peace…we go through a short period of tranquility. But the dead dreams begin to rot within us and infect our entire being.”); but I have something now which I haven’t had in my entire adult life and it is a beautiful thing. As I said to Michelle, and told a friend yesterday, it’s as though I am chasing a unicorn–something I’ve never seen, or at best have only caught glimpses of, but which I believe in just the same.

Funny thing is, during these “good” sessions, I often don’t remember much of what was actually said, just more the feeling of what went on. I know I cried a lot. And laughed a lot (nice little defensive mechanism there). And even laughed and cried at the same time which, apparently, was a good thing. OK, I can see why…

I’m practicing. Practicing with Michelle those ways of being that will, hopefully, make it easier for me to have better relationships with people. OK then.

She made an analogy between where I am in my life, and the glass shop in The Alchemist…my mom always said I was like a bull in a china shop, so in a way, I’ve been preparing for this all my life…

Profoundly sad…

Slow…

Chasing the unicorn. Flashes of white flank or golden horn.

I’ve been on autopilot for nearly two weeks now. I don’t want to discuss anything with him. I’m tired of it, and it gets me no where. But I’m not happy about not discussing things with him, either. So I’m stuck.

And now I’ve made the mistake of forgetting to check to see whether Dr. Sacco is on our plan, and she’s not, but we have an appt. today, and Steve’s pissed off because I didn’t check. I’m so damned tired of making mistakes. And I’m tired of feeling like an idiot when I do. And I’m tired of knowing that Steve’s pissed off about stuff but won’t talk about what he’s pissed about. And I’m tired of worrying about what he’s thinking when I know I can’t read his mind. And I’m tired of hurting him and pissing him off.

And part of me just feels like so much of this is his fault for seemingly always finding fault in what I do wrong. It’s as though I just gave up somewhere along the way because no matter what I did, it was never good enough. But if it wasn’t good enough it was only because it wasn’t me. And I’m just so tired. Period. Not lack-of-sleep tired. Just struggling tired. I’m sick of the ups and downs. I so enjoyed being stable for a while. Sometimes I don’t think I’d care if I had to be boring to be stable.

I look back at my writing over the past three months, and I’m quite sure that the meds have effected it; but I was so happy to have some relief. Now that I’m feeling up-and-down moody again…well, I was going to write that I wouldn’t care if I never wrote again if I could just be stable, but I know that’s not true. It’s just that as I’m writing this I’m grasping at straws. I’m tired of not being happy. I’m tired of looking forward and seeing more struggle. I’m feeling defeated just by the prospect of moving forward.

I biked yesterday, even though it was a crummy ride. I enjoyed it, but it was recreational when what I really wanted was a good hard ride by myself to clear my head. I’m writing instead of running right now. If I miss my run today, I really have to put myself back a day on my schedule so that I’m not pushing too hard, and that pisses me off; but I have a bitch of a day ahead of me. Way too much to do. Too many commitments.

And I overspent again this month, and forgot to pay my bill on time, so I had to transfer money out of the little account I’ve been building up to offset it so Steve won’t be pissed off about another fuckup on my end. I’m just so frustrated! He got pissed off at me the other night because I forgot to give him a stupid coupon. It’s not that he doesn’t have a right to be pissed off about stuff. I’d probably be pissed off, too, I don’t know. He certainly has plenty of legitimate reasons to have issues with me and my behavior. I’m not trying to hide from it. I’m just tired of dealing with it. I don’t like being around because he’s unhappy, and I don’t know what I can do about it. I’m just feeling like a bitch today. What do I have to complain about? He’s given me a good life, right? So why do I want to leave? Because I’m NOT HAPPY. And it’s NOT about being happy every fucking day. I just don’t want to feel like this. I don’t want to be sitting at the fucking computer knowing there’s stuff that needs to be done and knowing he’s just going to be more pissed at me for not getting it done, but feeling like it doesn’t realy matter because it’s never going to be enough and not wanting to care but caring anyway, and having long run-on sentences that don’t make any sense.

Damned sense of humor always gets in the way of a good rant…

It’s like I can’t even let myself get pissed off about something, or really get upset about something without that little sensor in my brain going off and saying, shut the fuck up! It’s like a parent–my parents–yelling at me to stop crying. Like that’s gonna help! Or having someone tell you to cheer up when there’s flat out nothing to be cheery about. I think (though I guess I’m not really sure) that I have every right to be pissed off and upset and angry and sad and frustrated and everything else negative, but I look around and all I see is the problems that I’ve created, the pain I’ve caused, the dissapointments I’m responsible for.

And I’m pissed off because I don’t want to be judged for my weaknesses. I don’t have anybody I can really trust to accept me when I’m frustrated and hurt and angry but my fucking therapist. And I’m paying her to do it anyway so it doesn’t even count!!!

Steve says he’s the only one who’d ever be able to put up with me. Not so nice of him to say, but probably true. Allyson says I’d probably have trouble finding someone because lesbians are picky. What the FUCK?!? What’s so wrong with me? I can’t possibly be the only one in the world who’s fucked up. And it can’t possibly be that everybody else is this miserable. So what gives? Are there just some people who should be put down because they’re somehow just not good enough?

I’m just so very tired. I feel like I must be looking for something I’m never going to find and that I should just suck it up and be happy with what I have. But at the same time I can’t believe that there’s not more to it. Otherwise, what’s the point? I feel like Sisyphis and my life is my rock–doomed to eternity to keep trying to push it up that hill and watching it all roll right back down… Just how much can a person takes before she breaks?

I guess I know that answer–more than what I’m dealing with. I suppose I should be happy about that, but right now all I can see is that rock.

I’m done.

No, I’m not. I’m not done with dealing with the whole acceptance thing. Is it wrong to WANT someone to see you for who you are, in your entirety, and still believe that they will love you? Is it wrong or maybe just unrealistic to think that if someone sees all your faults they can still love you–want to be with you? If I were put on a balance, would my strenghts outweigh my weaknesses and would someone be able and willing to accept me and embrace me regardless? I don’t KNOW the answer to that question. And I feel like the only way to know is to give up what I have because what I have is NOT that. But if I give up what I have, even though it is less than what I want, I may still never find what I want. It’s just that I think I’d rather be by myself without it, rather than pretending that I have it when I don’t. But I want it so badly that I can’t believe it’s not true.

I HATE THIS!!!! I wish I were a bug or something that just went through life looking for food and running away from predators until one day I was either too slow or too old and that’d be the end of it. And my stupid superstitious self figures now I’ll be turned into a bug and I’ll get stomped on. But really, am I any more than a bug right now? Isn’t that about all that’s going on. Aren’t I more like a mouse on a treadmill? And is there anyone who’s not? Bottom line, is there any point? Do we all get to some point in our lives when we look around us and wonder, What the fuck?!? Or are we supposed to wander around blissfully unaware of what’s going on around us? Or maybe we’re just supposed to pull ourselves back up when we’re down like this and not bother other people with it. Because that’s how I feel. I feel like a bother. Like a pest. Like something on the bottom of one’s shoe.

How can I feel this way, when I know I’m supposed to be happy? I really do believe that we’re supposed to be happy; but then, maybe I’m wrong, and that’s not the point at all. Maybe we’re just here to figure out that being happy isn’t the point. Maybe we’re here to learn that accepting what we have is the real deal. Can I accept what I have, where and who I am in life? Really accept it, and in that acceptance somehow find happiness? Am I just a grass-is-always greener kinda gal? Always thinking there’s something better if I go just a little farther down the road? Isn’t that what got me in trouble the other day when I got lost in the park?

I’m grappling with something beyond all this. I can’t put my finger on it. I know it has to do with being in therapy, with wanting something more than what I have, with wanting to be accepted, but being afraid to let anyone see how deep I can go into all of this. So let’s take it apart if we can without passing judgement. I think the bottom line is that I want to be able to share this kind of shit with someone and not have them freak out, think I’m fucked up, and leave me, without having to pay them! almost LOL. That’s what I want, but that’s also what I think may be unrealistic. I have no evidence that it is possible! So why bother. Why not just resign myself to always having to monitor what I say and do. Or why not just say What the fuck. This is who I am, and accept that maybe what that ultimately means is that I WON’T find anyone who’s interested in dealing with all my crap. But the thing is, I DO have good qualities too. I care about people–really, really care about people. I think I’m reasonably funny. I’m very passionate about things, though not necessarily the same things for very long. I guess I’m a lot like a grown up kid. Part of me wants to pass judgement and say, well there’s your problem. You’ve just never grown up, otherwise you’d quit your crying and go do something productive. The other part of me wants to revel in the fact that, despite everything I still do see the world very much as a child does, when I’m willing to put my fears of judgement aside. I WANT to be that person, but it’s rather lonely, and the loneliness may be too strong, and I may give in and give up that child just to not be alone anymore. But I don’t really think I can, because I think it’s just who I am.

So I’m stuck. I don’t know if there’s even anything to figure out. Maybe what I have to accept is that being alone is just what it’s all about for me. Maybe the connection I’m looking for is just a child’s dream.

So I dragged myself out of bed this morning–or more like, the pup’s barking dragged me off the couch this morning–at 7:00. Not bad–she slept 5 hours.

The world didn’t really look much rosier than it did last night, and it was cold, and all I really wanted to do was crawl into bed for the rest of the day. But I took care of the pup then came back in and fixed myself a real breakfast before heading out to Graham for the SWOOP project. I spent the hour’s drive belting out the same King’s X songs I’ve been singing since December. Seems they’ve become sort of meditative. I can sing them without thinking about them and that distracts me enough so that I can think about other stuff, or just settle into my feelings without over-thinking them. I’ve been crying a lot lately, and at odd times, prompted by odd things or by nothing at all.

Yesterday evening I was feeling so incredibly overwhelmed again. I nearly e-mailed Dr. Harrison to let her know I was in a bad spot, as she asked me to do so if I started feeling like I was really going downhill. My reasons for not e-mailing her weren’t particularly good ones, but I didn’t e-mail her and this morning I woke up to a new day.

Once again, SWOOP did a great job. We worked to build a large garden area for an herbalist who had to move away from her other farm. I dug the pit for the water garden, picked up buckets-full of rocks, and helped to dig out the paths between the rows. By the time I left a little before 1:00, so much had been completed. It’s just astounding to me how much can get done in so little time (relatively speaking) when people work together.

I didn’t talk to many people today. I was happy, for the most part, to keep my nose to the grindstone. It gets lonely sometimes, working this way, but it allows me to see/hear what’s going on and get sense for who people are. I felt like I got some good work done, and really look forward to the next project.

I headed to football straight from Graham so arrived already a little dirty. Playing football was great. I could do that every weekend! One woman was kinda scary…I’m not very easily intimidated, and I’m accustomed to being around tall people, but there was this tall woman who wore sunglasses the entire time and never smiled. She just made me really uncomfortable. Fortunately, though, that didn’t effect my playing! I wasn’t anywhere close to good, but I blocked a couple of passes, and probably pulled more flags than anyone else. I guess I caught the ball twice, too, so maybe I wasn’t that bad. Regardless, I had a great time.

After the game, I headed out with a bunch of the women for a drink and some grub. That was fun. Everybody laughed a lot. It was great to just hang out. I’ve never felt as comfortable with any other group of women. Now, there was this one woman who kept asking me questions–not too nosy, but enough to make me clam up for a while. Maybe (probably) she was just being nice, but she just kept at it. The topic of kids came up, and one of the women is a teacher, so at some point I mentioned that I’d homeschooled the boys until recently, and this other woman latched on to that one for some reason and kept pushing to know why I’d stopped–I guess I’m not really interested in going in to the whole reason I chose to stop, so I just said, “Lots of changes.” But she kept looking at me as if to get me to go one, and I nearly did, but just said, “Lots of changes.” again and tried to let it drop. I don’t figure anybody really needs to know a lot about me right now. It’s funny. If she’d asked why I was there, or if I’m still married, or why I’m there if I’m still married, or if I’m a lesbian, or any of that stuff, I’d have been fine with it. But things that have to do more with my family, or my mental health (!)–that’s personal.

I did learn that at least a handful of women in the group have been married and have children. That made me feel better about my own situation, even though I don’t know what their particulars are. Figure as I get to know some of them better, I may learn more.

Toward the end, about half the people had left and there were maybe 10 of us left talking including the woman who’s heading up the backpacking, so I got to talk to her for a little while about the trip and various gear, and we talked about triathlon and duathlon stuff. Then somebody asked if I was going to the lodge in a couple of weeks and I decided right there on the spot that, yes, I was. I admitted that I’d nearly chickened out and one of the women laughed and said, “Why? It’s just us.” That was good. I’d had a great time all day, I was doing something I enjoyed with people who were also enjoying themselves, and I felt welcome–at home. Then she had to freak me out by telling me that everybody goes skinny-dipping though! Not that I have anything against it–well, maybe I do–not sure, have never really thought about it; but all I could think was how f’ing COLD it’s gonna be!

I got home happy , tired, dirty, and sore–just the way I’d imagined. When Allyson and I were talking a couple of weeks ago, I joked that maybe I just like hanging out with gay chicks. Well, it’s true. I do like hanging out with gay chicks–at least the ones I’ve met so far (except for the scary one). But I really don’t think it’s a phase…

So glad I made myself go this morning. Just look at everything I would have missed.

Oh, and I sorted through three baskets of laundry! Really, the wonders never cease.

Now, if only I can put my bike back together, I’ll take a nice ride tomorrow. I wonder if one of the reasons I was in such a funk yesterday was because I didn’t exercise. I know I need to give myself a day of rest, but maybe I need to do something those days, even if it’s super light. I just pray that I’ll stick with it. How many times have I gotten into something like this and had massive energy for it in the beginning, and then within only a few weeks I’m looking around saying, hmmm, I thought I was going to do X, Y, or Z. I don’t want that disappointment again. I really need to succeed.

And part of that is going to depend on getting to sleep at a reasonable hour, so that’s what I’m going to do right now.

So I dragged myself out of bed this morning–or more like, the pup’s barking dragged me off the couch this morning–at 7:00. Not bad–she slept 5 hours.

The world didn’t really look much rosier than it did last night, and it was cold, and all I really wanted to do was crawl into bed for the rest of the day. But I took care of the pup then came back in and fixed myself a real breakfast before heading out to Graham for the SWOOP project. I spent the hour’s drive belting out the same King’s X songs I’ve been singing since December. Seems they’ve become sort of meditative. I can sing them without thinking about them and that distracts me enough so that I can think about other stuff, or just settle into my feelings without over-thinking them. I’ve been crying a lot lately, and at odd times, prompted by odd things or by nothing at all.

Yesterday evening I was feeling so incredibly overwhelmed again. I nearly e-mailed Dr. Harrison to let her know I was in a bad spot, as she asked me to do so if I started feeling like I was really going downhill. My reasons for not e-mailing her weren’t particularly good ones, but I didn’t e-mail her and this morning I woke up to a new day.

Once again, SWOOP did a great job. We worked to build a large garden area for an herbalist who had to move away from her other farm. I dug the pit for the water garden, picked up buckets-full of rocks, and helped to dig out the paths between the rows. By the time I left a little before 1:00, so much had been completed. It’s just astounding to me how much can get done in so little time (relatively speaking) when people work together.

I didn’t talk to many people today. I was happy, for the most part, to keep my nose to the grindstone. It gets lonely sometimes, working this way, but it allows me to see/hear what’s going on and get sense for who people are. I felt like I got some good work done, and really look forward to the next project.

I headed to football straight from Graham so arrived already a little dirty. Playing football was great. I could do that every weekend! One woman was kinda scary…I’m not very easily intimidated, and I’m accustomed to being around tall people, but there was this tall woman who wore sunglasses the entire time and never smiled. She just made me really uncomfortable. Fortunately, though, that didn’t effect my playing! I wasn’t anywhere close to good, but I blocked a couple of passes, and probably pulled more flags than anyone else. I guess I caught the ball twice, too, so maybe I wasn’t that bad. Regardless, I had a great time.

After the game, I headed out with a bunch of the women for a drink and some grub. That was fun. Everybody laughed a lot. It was great to just hang out. I’ve never felt as comfortable with any other group of women. Now, there was this one woman who kept asking me questions–not too nosy, but enough to make me clam up for a while. Maybe (probably) she was just being nice, but she just kept at it. The topic of kids came up, and one of the women is a teacher, so at some point I mentioned that I’d homeschooled the boys until recently, and this other woman latched on to that one for some reason and kept pushing to know why I’d stopped–I guess I’m not really interested in going in to the whole reason I chose to stop, so I just said, “Lots of changes.” But she kept looking at me as if to get me to go one, and I nearly did, but just said, “Lots of changes.” again and tried to let it drop. I don’t figure anybody really needs to know a lot about me right now. It’s funny. If she’d asked why I was there, or if I’m still married, or why I’m there if I’m still married, or if I’m a lesbian, or any of that stuff, I’d have been fine with it. But things that have to do more with my family, or my mental health (!)–that’s personal.

I did learn that at least a handful of women in the group have been married and have children. That made me feel better about my own situation, even though I don’t know what their particulars are. Figure as I get to know some of them better, I may learn more.

Toward the end, about half the people had left and there were maybe 10 of us left talking including the woman who’s heading up the backpacking, so I got to talk to her for a little while about the trip and various gear, and we talked about triathlon and duathlon stuff. Then somebody asked if I was going to the lodge in a couple of weeks and I decided right there on the spot that, yes, I was. I admitted that I’d nearly chickened out and one of the women laughed and said, “Why? It’s just us.” That was good. I’d had a great time all day, I was doing something I enjoyed with people who were also enjoying themselves, and I felt welcome–at home. Then she had to freak me out by telling me that everybody goes skinny-dipping though! Not that I have anything against it–well, maybe I do–not sure, have never really thought about it; but all I could think was how f’ing COLD it’s gonna be!

I got home happy , tired, dirty, and sore–just the way I’d imagined. When Allyson and I were talking a couple of weeks ago, I joked that maybe I just like hanging out with gay chicks. Well, it’s true. I do like hanging out with gay chicks–at least the ones I’ve met so far (except for the scary one). But I really don’t think it’s a phase…

So glad I made myself go this morning. Just look at everything I would have missed.

Oh, and I sorted through three baskets of laundry! Really, the wonders never cease.

Now, if only I can put my bike back together, I’ll take a nice ride tomorrow. I wonder if one of the reasons I was in such a funk yesterday was because I didn’t exercise. I know I need to give myself a day of rest, but maybe I need to do something those days, even if it’s super light. I just pray that I’ll stick with it. How many times have I gotten into something like this and had massive energy for it in the beginning, and then within only a few weeks I’m looking around saying, hmmm, I thought I was going to do X, Y, or Z. I don’t want that disappointment again. I really need to succeed.

And part of that is going to depend on getting to sleep at a reasonable hour, so that’s what I’m going to do right now.

I don’t think this is something that meds can help. Not that they’re not helping. I think that they are. But there’s the biological system and the psychological system and right now the psychological system is winning the battle. I’m not so sure today that the biological system will survive.

The last two weeks have been too familiar, with the ups and downs, the mixed states where I’m depressed and driven all at the same time. My grief over Oscar’s death is too much. Everything is coming back, including my walls. I remember things that I don’t want to remember. I’m grieving for things long past. It’s all welling up and there’s no place for it to go. The walls are rebuilding themselves and I don’t know how to stop that either. I want to give up. I want so very badly to give up. But I don’t know how. Surviving is just another habit and habits are so hard to break.

So tomorrow I will get up and I will do what I need to do to survive, whether I want to or not.

I have this fear that this is all I have now– my habits. Good or bad, it doesn’t matter. I can’t escape the cycle of life. This morning’s dream still haunts me. So much loss, and it was as though no matter what I did I caused it. Any decision I made led to the destruction of someone or something I loved, and it was killing me.

Fuck it. I hate this. I’m sick of –of what? Everything! I’m sick of it all.

I’m sick of caring so much. I’m sick of being the person I’ve built up. I just want to be free. I want to be me. I don’t know what I want or what I need. I only know I don’t have it and that I’m dying without it. I don’t want to look weak or confused or afraid or vulnerable or unsure. I don’t want to ask for help. I don’t want to have to depend on someone else. But i don’t want to be alone. I don’t want to isolate myself. I want to belong.

Ended up riding 15.5 miles, just the same. And did my 30 min. walk/run thing, too; so like I said, I had a good day.

Swam 1500 yds last night during masters swim. I got there and saw the schedule on the board and immediately thought, “There’s no F’ing way I’m gonna be able to do that!”. But I finished each little piece and got closer and closer to the end, and by the end of the hour, I’d completed it! Thought for sure I wouldn’t be able to move this morning, but I was fine. So that’s 3 runs, a bike ride, and a swim this week. I have one more ride and one more run scheduled by Sunday. Not bad. Now I just need to add in some weights and/or core work. I was going to swim tomorrow, but then I won’t really have a day off, as I’ll be working with SWOOP on Saturday, followed by football. Don’t want to overdo it!

Thanks to T for setting up the schedule for me and for the encouragement.

Anyway, she has a client or two in Cary and another client or two up in North Raleigh who need mid-day care. She’s going to get back to me with the logistics, and after my trip to FL, I’ll join her on her walks for a few days to learn the ropes. Then it’s off to the races…It’s something I can do while the kids are in school, and if I decide I like it, and if I’m good at it, then I could potentially have regular work. Don’t figure it pays very well–we didn’t even talk about it and at this point I don’t care that much. The point is that it’ll help me feel at least a little less dependent. It’ll also give me something to do, it’s outdoors, and it allows for the opportunity of extra socializing and for my own dogs if I chose to do that later on. I’ll have to figure out the taxes thing, as I’d be an independent contractor, but that’s just paperwork–not like it’s going to throw us into a higher tax bracket.

Obviously, I’m pleased to have the opportunity to work with her, too, though it’ll be mostly on paper and via the phone/e-mail; but it’s nice none-the-less. So, we’ll see. I enjoyed talking with her. She’s kind of a weird person to talk to, though I can’t really say why. It was interesting–she made a comment at one point about how there were differences in the way she and her partner liked to do things and one of those hinged on communication. When we knew each other before, we mostly talked about dogs and training. I’m sitting here trying to figure out what it was I liked about her. I think it was shared interests and the fact that she smiles easily and laughs willingly. We laughed on the phone, too, though I couldn’t say about what…

It’ll be nice to actually see her again, and maybe this time I’ll get to know her better. But I’m a little nervous about it. I don’t quite know what happens to old crushes. I’ve never had this kind of experience where someone I liked comes back into my life. I was really nervous returning her call, but once we got over the “how ya doin’s” and were talking about business, I was fine. I guess I’m worried about things being weird. Afterall, she was a huge reason I quit doing the dog training stuff, though she didn’t know it. I just liked her too much. Man, when I think about it, that was a major crush… I must be about as dumb as they come. How could I have not wondered if I might be even just a little gay? Hello? She’s a woman, you’re having fantasies about leaving your husband and running away with her. Yet, I don’t remember ever questioning it. I just liked her and wanted to be with her and wanted her to want to be with me. You know, just little stuff.

Hmmm. I guess I’ll just have to wait and see how it all plays out, and whether I’m still uncomfortable working with her. Seems that the fact that I’m, well, more AWARE of my interest in women could make it either better or worse and I won’t know until I know.