The truth is, I've planned for every outcome, that's how I don't sit in expectation . . . I have had to plan for every single outcome, every single time I leave my house.  I need to know the appropriate response before I ever have to make it.   If I don't, people could easily figure out I'm different.  Yes, all of us who know that feeling, hear that feeling as if they were eight years old again, "if they do this, do that, if they don't do that, do this."  Social Nightmare!

Laughing . . . I just realized I'm going to have to put a hot oil treatment on my hair so I have to take a shower, that'll stop me later and get me into inside rain, no excuses, no rationalization.  Whew,nausea waning.  I still need to take a break because typing that brought it right straight back at me.  I have to lay down for a little while, eating is out of the question.

Right now I'm sitting here, can't make the call to the neighbors, just can't.  It causes me tears, begins my heart runnin' into panic, causes me to rock back and forth (stimming).  When I'm here by myself I can act as the observer, watchin' my physical reactions and knowing why that is the reaction.  It doesn't make it any more comfortable for me.  That's what I've learned about living alone, I'm not good at it.  All I need is a car jump, they are a mile away, they are my neighbors.  If one of my neighbors called I'd grab my keys and out the door I'd go.  I'm sure that will be their reaction if they have jumper cables. It is immediately "depressing" for me when I realize I cannot call them, it's not that I won't, it's that I can not. 

I know my stuff, mental and physical stuff, is out of whack when I consistently hold my breath.  I don't hold it once, I hold it consistently, over and over again, all day long.  I'll be working and all of sudden I just suck in air, for a minute it seems like I'm gulping it.  I never realize how long I've been holding my breath until then.  Laughing . . . and I wonder why I'm dizzy . . .

I've run the gamut of what I could write you, most of it stored
in files marked for psychologists actually interested in what I have written.  Laughing, meaning they're in e-mail draft or labeled in Word files.  Indeed, I have acted as my own therapist because my life is so far out of their paradigms that their diagnoses literally sicken me, AND I know I'm way funnier than any of them . . . and I digress again . . .

What a day this is . . . my phone is ringin' off the walls.  I'm going to have to go out and walk, walk, walk this afternoon . . . whew . . . I can't even explain how many times I have said, "if you believe you are the only one who feels this way, log onto the net, type, find them all, know you're not alone."  OR "if you think your thought is original, know what I know, if I'm thinking it, someone else on the planet is thinking it, find them."  UFO's, the economy and stock market, GMO's, starvation, medical need for PTSD, quantum healing and that's just my telephone morning . . .

And just to make you smile, must e-mail the neighbors tomorrow, they brought me "steel cut oats" and home canned cherries.  I will confess that I thought steel cut oats were just overpriced yuppie oat meal. How wrong I was!!!!!  Now I truly believe that oat meal is a sad thing for the oats to have to be.  Steel cut oats are happier . . . I won't say it exactly like that, I was just typing like I normally type for a few seconds to make me laugh.

I can imagine peace, away from this house, away from my phone . . . away where nobody knows how to find me, nobody worries about me . . . and that ends that dream for today . . . I'm going to watch something on Hulu.  After a day like today I turn on Hulu, watch something I have to follow while playing a computer game until my brain slams right side to left side real.

When I met the man who walked my dreams, my teacher, my
spiritual partner, a soul mate, I was married with young children.  It was a no win for me.  He was a four tour Nam vet with PTSD who sometimes drank tequila for breakfast.  He would have cost me custody of my wee ones.  I would have walked away from everything, except my children, for him, everything.  The truth is, if I had chosen him, if I had walked away from my children, he would have never forgiven me, I wouldn't have been a woman he could love.  The ultimate Catch 22 I still breathe real.