So scared.  Not even sure why.  I fear what's going to happen, and what won't happen and most of all nothing at all.  Fear has bullied me, stymied me, tripped me, I wait for fear to take a nap so I can tiptoe over it only to find myself taking a nap instead.

It occurred to me that I like commas far too much and I place them, unnecessarily, everywhere.  Time to read Rule of Thumb again.  So many books to read this summer.

I felt bored yesterday and a bit lonely today.  When I first realized I was bored, I thought how childish of me, I have a camera and books to read, and I am fully capable of finding things to do.  As I was getting ready to take my daily walk, I realized I am over my ex-partner.  Truly over him and the grief of another lost relationship.  I know this because my brain was free to realize I wasn't crunching the grief or finding things to distract me from it. A very freeing feeling and one that makes me very happy.  I didn't come out of it unscathed, where I once had furniture (that he is now in possession of) I have weight gain, I am slower.  Our break up came in the middle of a four-year depression.  Took my legs right out from under me.  Medication, food, and isolation did not help.  Not a method to prescribe to, that's for sure.  Education and support held me.  But, I am not sure I was capable of anymore, energy-wise.  The energy simply wasn't there.  I kept eating thinking that would give me energy, but it only served to slow me down.

Sometimes, I realize things too harshly. In the aftermath and the wreckage of depression, I see again, the gentleness of the grass growing and from a distance how soft and billowy tree branches move in the breeze. Trees are ironic.  Six pelicans have been swimming in the pond.  I love watching pelicans, it's like watching something be a caricature of itself.

My legs are returning to me, along with my strength.  I forget how strong I am and sometimes when a flash of anger arises, I deal with people harsher than I realize.  Chill is typically my middle name.

I am putting off what I know I inevitably have to do. Fear.  Because once this last stretch is done, then the next chapter has to be written, and that's the scary one.  It involves rejection.  I hate rejection, I also loathe ridicule, which happens to large people a lot.  I need a plan to deal with it.  Like a song or something. And a note reminding me to breathe.  Made the note, I keep a little sketchbook by my laptop and every day I blind draw my fist, date it.  One day, I want to show my artist friend, whom I asked to teach me how to draw, and she said, this first, so I learn to see with my eyes.