Two years ago I experienced a nervous breakdown.
Let me first say, that after that experience I will never trust an MD again unless I need a bone mended or bleeding stopped.
But that's not what I wanted to ramble about.
I wanted to ramble about the new me, the one that is organizing a camp for 150 girls and their leaders without so much as a twitch of stress. OK, maybe just a little twitch when one of our male leaders asked if it was OK if he didn't come up until a day later, and only a week before camp. I ALMOST went ballistic over that. But justifiably so since I've had an extremely hard time keeping my schedule of male protection filled in. It looks like a freaking jigsaw puzzle--Joe Blow staying for one night here, Harry Stu staying for a couple of nights there, when I'm required to have at least two men in camp at all times.
Other than that, with things falling apart around me, with holes that need filling, with worrying about things I'm forgetting, with leaders waiting until the last minute to tell me about problems that should have been addressed weeks ago, I'm just fine. I'm relaxed, confident, strong, optimistic and excited to spend a week with more female bundles of hormones than you can shake a stick at!
What happened? It's a very long story. Maybe I'll write a book about it someday.
But, the new me doesn't seem to be much of a writer. I wrote some of my best stuff so far when I was on my way down into the pit. Now that I've climbed out, I almost have too much energy to sit at a computer and write for any good stretch of time. I'm also interested in so many other things, writing is taking a back seat to them. The whole dynamic of my family has changed, which leaves me more interested in them than in writing.
It has definitely been a rewarding and interesting year, and I am grateful to be alive and living it!