Back to everyone else's reality

Feeling the grace of the people in my life wash over me, and I am humbled.  I get so scattered, trying to do too many things at once, accomplishing nothing in the process except letting the time pass and so increasing my sense of desperation, so, especially grateful to the people who redirected me to only do one thing and get it done.  (And especially to the one who stayed with me until midnight and told me to go to bed instead of trying to accomplish anything else - I was up half the night anyway, my mind racing, and then up again and out of the house by 6:30 am.  I worry too much, but I had a lot to do, and it did take all day.)  (And the people at work filling in for me, when I kept calling in every day to say I still needed time off.)  Finally slept for a solid five or so hours last night, been months where I couldn't.  If the window is open, there is a constant drone of traffic from the freeway that lulls me to sleep.  The first night in the new house, I saw a shooting star through the blinds. 

I'm living in an attic again, instead of a basement.  The house feels different than where I was, though the set up is similar, more collegial, somehow.  (The woman that lives across from me carried up half my stuff up two flights of stairs, and I had never even met her before.)  I am lighter.  I feel released from things that were keeping me in my past.  I can't find anything, I can't even find the clothing I was wearing the night I moved in (no idea at all) and I feel like a giant bruise, physically, but I can finally eat and sleep again, so that's good.  (As I've mentioned before, for reasons I don't entirely understand, I find moving traumatic, more than just about everything else.  There are things that come close, but this one takes the cake as stress-inducing, for me.  Maybe it's partially that when you pack, you review your life and who you thought you'd be, who you really are, and what you're hanging onto and why...or maybe that's just me: moving as a spiritual exercise, a reexamination of my life.)  I'm busy for the next few days, but will keep chipping away at it until it's livable (the only free space in the room is my bed, every other area is covered.)

Here's to better days.