Man, and I thought I was doing well. Nothing like a stomach flu to rip me away from the exercise and diet I've devised to keep me emotionally stable. So I was crying at mass on Easter Sunday (the 2nd time this month; at least I was able to keep it together enough to stick around this time), and again listening to "Defying Gravity" on the drive up to the in-laws. When it hurts, it hurts every time my spirit stirs, like it's trapped among broken glass. And I forget or ignore the things that sweep the glass away. I'm smart enough, at least, to recognize what's going on and not do anything stupidly drastic . . .
Wow, did I marry the right guy. I fell in love with him in the middle of an emotional identity crisis (to study abroad in Paris, or to stay and find out if he was the One?) -- he didn't freak out, and he never has. He reminds me how useful it is to think rationally, and that I *can* think even when my feel is so off.
I am sincerely looking forward to bellydancing tonight, and hoping for Silver Creek Falls this weekend. Gotta get out of this cage.
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