Elixir

The pink fog comes on little kitten heels.*

As has become the norm, it snuck up on me again.  I don't even realize that it's there until I, um, notice it.  That my thoughts have been lingering continually on a very narrow area, and how very lonely I am feeling.  It's sneaky that way.  Like cooking a lobster: start with a cold pot of water, and it doesn't even know that the end is near.

The mini-crisis worked itself out by attending my monthly meeting, just the elixir that I have come to count on.  Our guest speaker was my therapist, and she had prepared a presentation this time around.  Previous times, she had moderated Q&A sessions, which were great, but this was more engaging for the group as a whole.  She has taught Sexual Development at the university, and this played out like a good interactive lecture. 

The company of my friends broke the spell of my dysphoria.  They have problems, too, and that pulls me out of my own self-pitying habit.  My issues are different, but are certainly no worse than many others.  It's a nice little reality check.  Zen and the art of motor-psyche maintenance.

5am and off to bed.

* (apologies to Carl Sandburg)