Sorting

Holding steady through the anxiety, I think. A theory behind not analyzing my psycho weirds is that as the episode wanes, the truth of ^it^ will reveal itself with far more elegant simplicity than analysis could hope to achieve. ^It^ is not an engineered design. ^It^ is a dysfunction that happens along without so much as an invite.

The dominant theme which seems to be bubbling out of this anxiety attack is that the next fixed point on my calendar is nearly here. Hubs is set to meet me at the train station in Alton, Illinois on June 18th. Best beloved sis and her twin granddaughters will meet me at some yet to be defined campground between here and the train station. From there, the five of us will roll around the distance between Alton and Schaumburg untill the 22nd when we will meet up with Hubby's brother and wife for the HDSA National Convention.

Within the bubbles are expectations I didnae realize I was holding. Was I supposed to have determined some great plan for my future? Perhaps a great accomplishment to show for the thousands of miles I've driven since I left for my brother's funeral pilgramage in March?

Dunno. . . Still feeling the waves of anxiety. Still sorting. Small steps, big faith and lots of prayer.