A little sick today. Not sure if it's allergies or something else, but not good sleep last night, and dreams up the wazoo. One dream included my mother, who confessed to me that she's been smoking firecrackers in an attempt to kill herself. And I was distracted by a display of huge quartz crystals nearby, mounted on one of those rotary magazine racks.
Mom called last night just to chat, so I'm sure that's where her influence in the dream came from. I don't know where all the anxiety came from, but this morning I was just exhausted, and I woke up with what looks like a black eye.

Wrestling with my conscience.

I haven't talked a lot about my emotional state. I think that's a lot because I really don't know what it is. I have confidence that things will be great in the long run, but right now I wonder if I just have a thin veneer over a pit of despair.
No, that's not right. Despair is too big a word. Loneliness for sure, although keeping in touch with friends via e-mail and LJ helps a LOT. Still, there is something dark and sharklike just below the surface, and on days like this, the ice gets pretty thin.
Heck, it might just be self-pity. That's enough of a familiar place for me that there is a certain comfort in just wallowing. All of the relatively new feeling-good-about-myself stuff is strange and alien, and in seeking comfort, maybe I revert back to the old ways.
Not where I want to be. But this transition period is difficult at best, and some days I just want to snuggle under the blankets and hide away from the rest of the world. Or better yet, to be held and comforted.
And something just occurred to me: there is no fear. Even in this half-defined state, I am not afraid of what is to come.

I'm just lonely.