Plugging

Sometimes it seems like there is so much welling up in my heart and yet there is no where to express it, no way to explain it and no one to listen anyway. Other times I feel like I am shouting so much everyone is covering their ears as they pass... So still no one hears.

It is not actually an alone feeling, exactly. It is more that I feel incomplete and incapable to express. It is not distress. It is definately not depression, it just is.

There if fullfillment in my life, taking care of Nana, work, camp, church, the dogs, my writing, so it is not emptiness.

It's more like emotional restless leg syndrome.

My father and I spoke this weekend. I need to e-mail the head of the PhD program that I did not get into and find out what the problem with my applicaiton was. I don't want to. I'm not even sure I want the PhD anymore, nor that I want to know why... But I also know that I need to know why I didn't get in and whether or not I can before I can really say no.

I am begining the next phase of my therapy as well. I have to take all the incidents I wrote out (well over 50 events...) and then fill out this whole chart about what happened, how I felt, what it contradicted in me and a bunch of other stuff. I told my therapist that I didn't want to do this anymore. He laughed. It's the same as the PhD thing. Except in this case, I know I will do this and I will finish whether I want to or not because when I am done I will be happy. I might even be free. Free-er than I ever remember at least.

Anyway, I'm just plugging along out here.