(As should be obvious to anyone who knows me, this state of mind was all too temporary. The relief of not having to run around like a panicked hamster was quickly replaced with the despair that came from understanding that my relationship with my boys was irrevocably altered)
October 17th, 2005.
It is scary at times, I wonder if I am still myself, and if I am, is that a good thing? I do feel better, but different though. I mean, its better than before, I still have some moments, but the difference is quite palpable, my insides do not feel as tied up in knots as they once did. Imagine, walking around, all of the time, worried, scared, fatigued, all day, everyday. If something should happen, or someone get upset, my life became instant hell, and I would drive myself mad trying to figure out what went wrong and how I could possibly fix it.
what a relief to just not give a shit.