Spring has sprung.  I know this because my car is covered in pollen.  Bees are all over my back patio.  While I hate the assholes, I’m not killing them because apparently we need them and yada yada yada.  The pretty flowering bush outside my bedroom window is showing signs of buds.  Pretty pink ones.  The crawfish festival is approaching.  Winter is over.  Another season of this life has come and gone.

People are like seasons.  They change.  They come and go.  As soon as I embrace that and learn it and accept it as truth, I know I’ll feel better.  And people, like seasons, have their dramatic events.  Unfortunately, there’s no weather channel for people.  They never cease to amaze–both in beauty and in destruction.  The older I get, the less drama I want (not that I’ve ever been a fan of it).  I get caught up in my own brain too damn much though.

Today, a Monday with its usual chaos was also the last day of the month.  For a sales-driven establishment, this meant double the chaos.  I was in the midst of the chaos and it felt like my brain was, for lack of a better analogy, being floored.  Adrenaline, snap decisions, multiple people clamoring to get into my office or on my cell, and emails pouring in.  I suddenly realized the cause of the stress and my anxiety wasn’t so much that I couldn’t handle that situation, but rather that I don’t turn it off well.  I can’t stop it all from coming at me.  It’s what I get paid to manage.

But what has it cost ME?  And when I leave the office, how much of my brain do I let free of that frenzy?  Quite frankly, since vacation, zero.  It’s like a car that’s never not driven hard.  But I’m no sports car, I don’t come with a warranty.  And how much damage I’ve done to myself and others remains to be seen.  I’ve let the anxiety, stress, and need for snap decision-making override my ability to remain calm and let life just be.  I have carried over that demanding attitude and lack of patience into places it was not welcome.  What the next season holds, I don’t even bother to assume or guess.  That would only fuel the fire.  So, what does a person who needs action and wants plans do when it’s in her detriment to have such?

I don’t know.  I have zero clues.  I’ll figure it out though.  I’ve managed to stumble this far and no doubt the answer I need will come when I need it. Maybe, just maybe, I need to observe the seasons–both weather and people-related–and nothing else.  (insert Vince Vaughn’s laugh from Be Cool)

One thing about me and having some anxiety issues, is that patience and understanding continue to be a problem.  Not knowing something drives me CRAZY!  I will also jump to the worst possible conclusion imaginable in a single bound.  It’s some severe personal flaws.  I think acknowledging them though helps put them in their place.  Today, I realize there is a lot of time left alive (hopefully) and time is a gift, not a torture.  Anxiety Girl has a way of not seeing that AT ALL and feeling like the world must be taken by fire every instant and doesn’t give my brain a breather.  Yesterday, I finally realized Anxiety Girl is gonna have to take a vacation and let my brain have peace.

Sadly, that Anxiety Girl Superhero can drive others crazy on a regular basis.  So those friends with the capacity to see me for the human I am and still stick around knowing the good outweighs the bad, a sincere thank you.  I struggle to maintain clarity in those moments that frighten me.  It’s hard to sit back and be cool.  It’s almost like I have to be taken by the shoulders and shaken (not too hard) and told, “Calm the hell down, woman.  No one is getting out of here alive anyway.”  The great news is that I’m learning to do it the older I get.  And though I still take myself and life far too seriously, I always come back to the center.  It’s been a while since I felt this good.

I haven’t dealt with my anxiety and emotions well the last few weeks.  I knew it was spiralling and sometimes searching for whatever can stop it only makes it worse.  It’s like the more I looked for answers the more anxious I got!  Funny how one sentence–said to me in frustration and I think merely as a sidenote not even the point–stuck with me and drew me out of my own skull.  It put everything in perspective.  It showed me that in dealing with humans, I still have a long way to go in seeing two sides to every story.  Even when that story is our own–especially when it is–all the more imperative to try to understand someone else’s perspective.  I think I got there.  And, in a way, made me realize the huge attempts the other party was making for my benefit even when they didn’t feel like it.  Time to return the favor.

Yesterday, I downed a good portion of wine before 5pm, never got out of my pjs, and slept for like 12 hours (with Chloe interrupting a few times to go pee).  I watched a couple movies and zoned out.  I didn’t pause them when I wanted to dwell on my issues, I just went back to the zone.  I literally had to shut down my brain.  Today, I feel like a new woman–refreshed, clear, and clean.  I needed that shutdown.  I forget to take time to shut down and I know I realize how important it is.  And that also helped clarify for me that all humans need it.  And when someone is in shutdown mode (just like I was), interrupting them is only going to prolong the problems they face until they are refreshed and clear.  The bigger the issues and longer it’s been since the last shutdown, the more time they need.  Anxiety Girl doesn’t understand that.  I’m glad I took the cape off and let it all go.

It’s 6am and I already wanna throat punch somebody. People drive me to the brink of insanity. I haven’t even gotten around to reading my emails. Thanks to iPhone preview, I can tell you, that’s gonna need to be something I do in a couple hours after a pill kicks in and I can start dealing with other peoples problems more rationally than just punching them.

Now understand, this throat punch would not be to an elderly human or an animal. If a child came across my path, well that would be quite odd. I may extend my arm out of sheer defense before I realized it was just a tiny human. I don’t see a lot of kids folks. And as far as teenagers go, well most of them are my size (or here in MS, most are bigger) and hey, I think they count as legitimate hits. Plus, they are full of angst and hormones so it may be a connection is made. Like, “hey kid, sometimes we all just wanna throat punch somebody and when you get through 35 years of nothing but bullshit you can exercise your right to throat punch.”

You know, I could be a positive influence on a teen with a random throat punch. Like motivation to keep on keeping on until their own mid-life crisis hits. What if that kid was ready to give up on life and then in this spiritual moment of awakening we share, he/she realizes there is more to life than [insert whatever is troubling today’s teens-Instagram?]. Also, could be the deciding factor for that young adult that we need more therapists in the world. Or this kid could decide we need more doctors who can distribute pharmaceuticals. Or, maybe an entrepreneur could be born at that instant! That kid could open Mississippi’s first all night coffee shop to serve women going through a mid-life crisis driven awake and eventually insane by their own thoughts. Whereas if I had a classy…..snickered there at “Mississippi” and “classy” didn’t you? Ok, a cleaner and less scary alternative to Waffle House to go sit and think then maybe the innocent suffering of throat punching he/she experienced would never have to happen again.

Meh. Maybe I’ll skip the throat punch, realize I am NOT getting more sleep despite a burning desire to do so, make coffee (it’s looking like a 3 cup day), shave my legs (ha! I’m just saying that), wash my hair (I’ll really do that), and go get paid. But secretly, while I talk to everyone today, I’ll be ticking off the insane number of reasons they SHOULD be throat punched knowing I cannot do so. Ohhhhhhh! Now we have a mental game to play on Thursday. It just got interesting.

A long time ago (in a galaxy far, far away), I made a vow to myself. That vow encompassed never letting myself feel this way, this much for anyone ever again. And yet, here I am, lying down to sleep with a trillion thoughts swirling about. As to what is felt, I’m too scared to go there. I don’t like breaking vows. The few I have made are simple, and thus far reliant. If I dig too deep, I may uncover what I fear the most: I have already broken that vow never to feel so much I can hurt.

And I know that’s silly. I’m not a robot (sadly), I’m a human. Not just a lousy human, a WOMAN at that. A nurturing, sacrificing, giving, loving woman. Who feels. And after 35 years, it unsettles me. But ya know what? Despite my uneasiness with all the things that are part of me, denying them would be a lack of acceptance for me. In all my forms. So, what do you do? (Clearly you lay awake at night and ponder stuff that makes no sense)

At some point I reckon I better make peace or sever whatever is below the surface. But that requires careful examination. And so, the journey continues. Elusive and confusing as it may be, it’s mine. Dear self, forge on and forget not that good things are ahead.

I am laying in bed, hoping to get very tired and fall to sleep with a quickness. My brain needs to shut down. There are a myriad of thoughts polluting me. And tenfold the emotions. This is new territory. I don’t like it.

I’ve never had so much to say to someone and kept it inside (positive things…plenty of unexpressed negativity. This is different). I’ve never felt the urges to leave this place I call home for just one more random hug in a parking lot of a coop (or wherever) and to plant a kiss on his cheek. I have never ached nor missed nor cried like this. I laughed at the tv–& knew he would have to had he been here–and suddenly the pain inside my chest was unbearable. I’ve never seen me like this. I have no idea what to make of it.

Inside the powerful and whimsical brainiac lies….a romantic. Not the kind to recite poetry or make superfluous promises. A different kind. The kind willing to wait it out and see. The worst kind. The kind that just flies on hope and faith. Things not seen, words not spoken. It scares the fuck out of me yo! The unselfish kind who doesn’t want to push more than she wants to know. That’s remarkable in this lifetime for this gal. Someone at a loss for words. Who knew.

Enough said.

I’m sure a couple of people (3 at most) have been waiting on the post-vacation blog. Well, add some Primivito, and here it is. And, it’s relatively simple: I do not want to be here.

I do not want your Central Time Zone, your fast food, your non-recycling, your bathrooms that don’t have bidets, and your tv (along with the bill). I don’t want your wine. Or your whine! I don’t want your traffic in your SUVs, your cheap utilities, your cheap gas to fill the car, or your Walmart. I don’t want it. I do not want to be here.

Do not misinterpret: I love the USA. I do. It just isn’t where I want to be right now. Coming back was the most difficult thing I have done…& I have taken some difficult steps. But boarding a plane to come back to all this when I just wanted more of THAT…….well, nothing compares to that feeling of surrender and instinct.

Let me break it down: I’d give up this house, job, car, and all the above mentioned American luxury to have the sound of him whistling, laughing, snoring (yes dude, sometimes you snore), and cussing Italian drivers in my face. I have made my way here in MS and am grateful for it, but it’s the end of the line. In fact, as my friend James just reinforced to me, I am long overdue to get the heck out of here and start my new path. I’ll follow you mofos on Facebook and come back once in a while to see your beautiful faces, but I suddenly no longer feel this is home.

Why? What happened? Well, it’s easy: home is where the heart is. My home is not here because my heart is not. My heart is with a man stationed in Italy. While maybe he’s not entirely comfortable with that, I realized that I am. It has surfaced that he can be stationed anywhere, and that’s where I wanna be. It’s really as simple as all that. It is easy to stay where you’re comfortable and where you’re accepted. It’s easy to stay at the job that tries to break you and where the money deposits every two weeks, as agreed. But is it happy? Not anymore. Not as of the day that I was encouraged (and finally believe), more awaits. And I can succeed globally. I can go be the awesome “me” in any nation, language, or culture.

Because I adapt and appreciate. But today, I hate being here because I want to smell, feel, and hear HIM. Yeah, I know, you expected something more from me post-Italy. Believe me, sane writing is on the way. But at this moment, and all the ones since I got on the first plane out of Venice, I have just wanted to scream that I do not want to be here. I want to be with him. If that’s not possible–maybe he doesn’t reciprocate–than I will be honest and say that I will be starting down other paths. (Elusive and mysterious isn’t it? 😊) Stay tuned.