I’m feeling almost normal again, whatever “normal” means.
It felt like I was caught in a nasty, bitterly cold winter rain storm, with blowing winds that nearly knocked me off my feet, pellets of icy rain biting at my face, and blusters of cold gusts that took my breath away. I knew I would get to a warm, comfortable place eventually, so I pulled up my collar, hunkered down, and pressed on with that “god, just get me the hell out of here” survival attitude.
I can’t say I am enlightened from the experience. I don’t know what in the hell happened, but it sucked. And my body was violently protesting, with residual scars to prove it.
What I know is that the forecast changes day-to-day, hour-to-hour, and that I have absolutely no control over it. I can do my best to be prepared, but the bottom line is this: if I don’t like the weather in a particular moment, all I have to do is wait long enough, and it will surely change.
What I know is that my life is profoundly happier than it was 5 years ago, and for that I am grateful, and was grateful, even during all the scratching.