There are some days where the world seems muted. Now, if you’re sick with a cold, sure, it’s a foggy haze. But other days, when there’s no cold to blame, when it’s not hazy but somehow, the words don’t want to come (not on paper so much as out of your mouth), then those are days that both confound me and also that I treasure. I feel very insular today. Now, last night I had one of my exhaustion migraines that I have about 3-4 times a year. They inevitably lead into a panic attack if they get far enough to capture me. The only way for me to stave them off is to get to sleep when I recognize one coming on, and stay asleep for the night (and they always come at night). But last night, I managed to get to sleep…but then I was woken up and couldn’t get back to sleep before it descended on me, like a winged harpy out of a dark cloud.
There are no medications I can take for these, and they’re rare enough that I don’t want to deal with medication for them. But when they happen, they suck. And usually the day after I’m like this—low key, quiet, living within the confines of my mind and not really wanting to peek out more. These are the times when I really have to watch what I say because my self-editing abilities are low. My temper is not trigger at this point, but my willingness to put up with bullshit is nil. These days—the day after, so to speak—are days when I want to retreat into a cave and hide.
Alone with my thoughts…at this point is a mixed blessing. I’m approaching my birthday—the big 5-0. Do I feel fifty? I don’t know—what’s fifty supposed to feel like? I feel like me, to be blunt. And I’ve never felt a ‘certain age’…although I do remember when I turned thirty-five I finally felt old enough to wear pearls. Don’t ask me why but pearls to me seem to be a sign of sophistication that only a certain age can bring. And 35 seemed to be the right age. Sadly, I still do not have pearls. I should get them—I do love them. They also embody ocean energy and right now, I need ocean energy. Hence, we are going to take off for the ocean for a day soon. Not the inlet (Puget Sound) but the edge of the Pacific. I’ll take my camera. Even if it’s raining, I don’t care as long as there aren’t any mudslides on the way to stop us.
At this moment, I wish we had a house on the beach. It’s dangerous over here, not practical—the Pacific can brew up some rough storms, but the thought of walking on the beach every morning to clear my thoughts looms large in my mind.
Enough introspection though. News: my Moon Stalker forums are open. Feel free to register and join me for discussions. I’ll be having live chats there in the chatroom when we get situated again. Rules are pretty straightforward: no flaming, no fanfiction, no inciting bad behavior, no talk of pirating books or CDs or anything like that. You can’t use my character names as nicks—they’re already registered and may pop in from time to time to say hello to you. So come on over and start up a thread or two (don’t wait for me! LOL—these are forums for you to discuss my books, life, the universe, and why it’s so hard to ignore chocolate). I will pop in there too. Introduce yourself in the Moon Stalkers Inn and get to know the mods.