Emotional withdrawal. Yeah, I'm not very sane - none of us around here are, really. I'm not apologising for my mood swings, for my clinginess (I said "Be clingy. I made you tea; be clingy." to him when he was standing behind me, hugging me, and I hadn't realized he was hugging me more because he was about to fall over than out of affection, and I feel like an idiot for saying something so demanding and... well... clingy), for my overdramatics, for my lack of emotional stability, or for my current mental health.

NOT apologising. Is that clear? I don't think it's something that I need to say "I'm sorry" about... you see, I AM sorry it's like this. But I am also a) not doing it purposefully or even consciously, most of the time... b) doing my best to get help and treatment for it... and c) pretty damned up-front about it, letting people know what to expect. So although I'm sorry that it is there, that it affects me and those around me, there is a limit to how much guilt and shame I'm REALLY willing to feel about it.

Now. Me. Online. Writing.

Let me set the record straight: I am BACK. Not full-time, since I won't have 'net access in the apartment for at LEAST until next month. Not completely, since there are still issues in my life, medical, mental, emotional, and spiritual, that I am working over and that do demand a large chunk of my attention.

But I am back, to some extent. I'm not going to just disappear, not going to suddenly go from bitchy, sick, frustrated caterpiller to perfectly-organized, perfectly-healthy, sweet, nice, wonderful butterfly overnight... or even over-month. A lot of what you see, what you've been reading in these pages, that's ME.

And ME is something that all my life, I've tried my best to be able to be proud of. Sometimes I fail. There are things I've done and decisions I've made that no, I'm not proud of. But overall, I'm surprisingly happy to be ME. Yeah, I'd love a different body, a slender, athletic, healthy one that cooperated with me. Yeah, I'd love a more stable mind and more balanced set of emotions. Yeah, I'd love the chance to go back in time, try doing things differently maybe... although that one I'm not entirely sure of.

See, if I did things differently, would I still be who I am?

'cos some things about me, I wouldn't give up for anyone or anything.

I've experienced more love, honest, real love, than most people ever get to in their life, and I'm only 23.

I've had some of the best sex imaginable.

I've gotten to see the Grand Canyon.

I've met some of the most wonderful people in the world, people I consider friends, sometimes lovers, always close to my heart... even though some of them I haven't talked to in a while or seen in a while, still, knowing them has made my life a treasure. I feel sorry for the universe full of people who will never know these amazing souls.

I've given birth.

I've gotten stoned.

I've gotten to eat Godiva ice cream at midnight, laughing, with someone I love.

I've petted a dolphin.

I've petted a llama.

I've petted a boy who was curled up at my feet with his head resting on my lap, looking up at me with this expression that left me breathless with delight and arousal and contentment.

I've grown roses, and honeysuckles, and carrots. And eaten all three. *grins*

I can give damned good blowjobs.

I can write well, and usually find the words I need when I am expressing myself on paper or online.

I can do things with blended images that I actually enjoy looking at after I've finished 'em.

I am not my mother's daughter - I am not anyone's daughter, really. I am the product of hundreds of men and women interacting with me over those 23 years, the product as well of the books I have read, the TV shows I've watched, the games I have played, the music I've listened to, even the air itself has affected who and what I am.

And what I am is unique... and not that bad. I like who I am.

Yeah... I know. Give me 24 hours and I'll be back to misery, wanting-to-die and hating-the-world and all of that. My moods shift so damned rapidly.

But at the moment... right this second... I've gotten to talk today with a lot of people I cared about, even if it was only briefly. I've gotten pain medication *hugs Mana again* and gotten homemade tacos and gotten white cranberry and peach juice. I've gotten to nap, with a cat snuggled against my arm, purring, and being all cute.

I've gotten email and a note that reminded me all over again that I'm not alone in the world, that there are people out there, FRIENDS out there, who do care. And who don't mind if I care back. And who understand how hard life can be, and are encouraging, and supportive, and are struggling themselves.

I've got a pretty good life, today.

*grins faintly* No, it won't last. But neither will the depression, when it comes.

Sooner or later, the roses bloom again, and it's all good.