I know there is a way out of this place and I will find it. It's just that right now I feel like I am in the middle of a giant speedway. Everything is racing around me and it won't ever stop. So even though there is part of me that knows this is going to pass- right now I can't move.
My week has been okay, in spite of the fact that I've done nothing to take care of my big problem/picture. I know I have to- that my landlord is a nice guy and he will only passive-aggressively chastise me a little. It won't even be that unbearable, except that I can't look at my immediate situation. My brain is trying to find A BIG SOLUTION. Nothing is impossible, I just can't move.
GET ON THE OTHER SIDE OF IT.
Once I get over the hum of "I can't believe I'm at this place again" I think I could get through if my circular reasoning would just stop. It's going so fast- and it begins with I have to get the Daddyman out of my life and ends with I can't get the Daddyman out of my life. It's so impossible to overlook what an emotional open target I must be. No matter who is trying to help the other it strips us bare to the bone every time. Even with a diary to speak to about these things, even with that exercise, I realize how weak I still am in spite of my awareness that something in me was (is?) growing stronger every day. I must have been wrong or I wouldn't be here again. My awareness and growing confidence was no substitution for my stupidity. You leave those flanks open and you lose what you have to stand on. I really wish rent were cheaper here. I make a fine wage. A fine wage for a single girl who lives alone. A fine wage for half of a working couple. It's screaming all around me that financially I can't do this alone. It spins all the rational thought and emotional strength out of me like a fucking salad spinner.
If this was a television fantasy I would have my revelation, blink once slowly, and be transported to the desert. "At least here there is peace." I would think. Sure is hot, though. I'd blink up at an unrelenting sun. Sure seems close. Oh well. I can get used to this at least. After all, I can always find the water I need.
But as I stand in the center of the Speedway, part of me knows that all that waits on the other side is the desert. Financial desert, emotional desert. It's bleak and dry and trying. I think part of me is staying in the terrifying middle of the mess until I can see something on the other side that is better than the desert.
If I've been picked up by a cyclone, I want more than anything not to be set back down in godforsaken Kansas!
Maybe now that Johnny Cash is in heaven he will be my personal champion up there. Maybe he can do something to make sure that my feet avoid the slippery rocks.
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