as sure as you have eyes, they've got no right

...I'm scared. I'm scared, and overwhelmed, and doubting myself, which is something I don't often do. I have been blessed with a keen sense of self-awareness, so it's not often that I doubt myself or my desires, or my abilities. I usually trust that I'll be able to do whatever I put my mind or will to.

...we've seen the last of good King Richard...

*sigh* I'm being ridiculous, I think. It's just...there are variables at play that I can hardly control, much like the last time I went through something like this. And the lack of control is terrifying, and adds to the stress. Never mind the fibro, and how it's responding - I'm having tummy issues. I know they are psychosomatic and that nothing's wrong. But being intellectually aware of all this does me no good. *wry smile*

...and drag yourself home, half-alive...

I wish I could be less realistic and more optimistic, but it's that realism that's served me so much better in the past, over the years. I'm no fool. I haven't gotten where I am by just going with the flow...tooth and nail, my friends, tooth and nail, and realizing that, at any moment, the world could turn just slightly, and all would change, and I could do nothing about it. I don't despair at that fact; I accept it. Checks and balances. It's a rule I live by.

...you feel no pain, and you're younger than you realize...

I nurture a certain image in my mind: looking out over the swamp from I-20, before the Maurepas buck in the bridge - the sun skipping on Maurepas' face, and the swamp as green and gold as it was before Katrina...New Orleans is just a thought in the distance, a happily anticipated guest an hour from arriving. If I can keep this in my mind, this and the emerald-and-amber Holy City, then I know I can be okay. If I can imagine the amethyst sky over the Holy City, I can be okay. If I can convince my blood and bones that it will be okay, and that they don't have to protect or overreact, then I can be okay.

The trick is, actually doing it.