Hullo.

I've had a very peaceful fall. Before that I had an especially turbulent summer- a summer that involved friends dying, going on food stamps, some therapy breakthroughs, fleeing poverty. I didn't blog about that because I didn't feel anxious during that time so much as totally, totally beaten, completely at wits end, like a chicken who has suddenly been confronted with the loss of her head.

Then I had a very peaceful fall. It was a warm fall. I started doing yoga a lot. I biked every day to my peaceful job, where I make good money and serve good food. I loved my parents. I met some nice new people. I had a great trip to see old friends. I saw a lot of doctors and got medicines for my various chronic ailments. The doctors and nurses were all very nice. Everyone has been very, very nice.

Now I'm back blogging because I can feel the big questions creeping back into my life. What else has this blog been but an anxiety release? That's what my anxiety,that question "where does the story go NEXT?" And there must be a way to ask that question calmly, eyes shining with curiousity and interest. That is not, in general, how I ask that question. I ask that question like a person hiding from nazis might. As in, wherever this story goes, I am sure it's not going anywhere good.

There is no story. We're just here. I'm just here. If something happens next, and it probably will, it might make no sense. It might not be a good story at all.

I really consider my flair for personal narrative a burden.

The big questions have snuck back in because the new people I know here now know me well enough to ask them. If they like you at all people want to know about your life plan. It's hard to explain to them that you are taking it day by day, because they might assume you are a recovering alcoholic.

I do feel like I'm in recovery. Recovering from an addiction to exciting, big plans. An addiction to distant futures.

I'm very lucky right now. I'm lucky to be alive, I'm lucky to be living at home, I'm lucky my parents have been so loving this fall, I'm lucky to have my job. I don't feel done resting up.