no title

21 days to go.

I'm actually really glad to have gone to see my therapist yesterday. So much inner rage/turmoil. Deduced that this status quo is a direct result of very limited exposure to other people, that is to say that my lack of any sort of semblance of a circle of friends has caused me to become hyper-vigilant of myself, since I lack an appropriate social mirror to serve that purpose for me. Constantly assessing and re-assessing my assessments. It's enough to drive one's self mad, if they aren't there already.

But I'm not sure. In fact, last night I had a revelatory thought-

What if I have been thinking about this all wrong? What is all of the events that transpired last year were for a purpose, perhaps even a very good reason? So far I've vacillated between self-pity and self importance because of the whole ordeal, but for some reason, last night something clicked.

I would not have been able to manage this France adventure had all of those things not happened.

I see only two plausible scenarios.

One, everything was completely normal, I stayed in school and finished earlier. I developed lasting relationships with people around here (at least slightly more profound than they were before I lost it), I retained these relationships upon graduation and because of my ties here, I decided to stay... content to accept a life in this rust belt town, living within my means and adopting the veritable uniform of the 20 something eccentric thats so popular with the kids around here. Eventually marry some blue collar type with a good heart and stubble and have a few kids and my own organic garden and people around here are apt to do. And although this seems lovely in theory... I would know for the rest of my life that I had squandered my remaining 20 something years to establish a mediocre existence devoid of all of the excitement I dreamed I would experience.

Two, following in a similar trajectory of how things transpired last year, I continued to make money being a nanny as I descended slowly but surely into abject manic insanity, alienated myself similarly, but somehow, whether legitimately or otherwise made use of my passport and found myself abroad, only to continue on my unbridled path of self destruction/deception finally landing in some sort of institution and becoming some sort of international incident. Like that one kid who got caned for graffiti in the 90's, only way way weirder.

Ok, sure... both of these divergent projections are clear exaggerations... but in reality I don't think that I am wrong. Had everything not fallen apart last year, had I not ended up in psychiatric care (again), had I not debased myself to the point of utter unrecognition... I would not have the drive that I have. I would not have the important, no... INVALUABLE knowledge of my diagnosis that I have now. I would not have quit smoking. I would not have limited, almost eradicated entirely my alcohol consumption. I would not have the cautious optimism or the inherent understanding that to succeed, I MUST take care of myself in a very real way.

Had my manic break not happened last year, I would have continued on in my life believing that the first one was a mere fluke. That it would not or could not happen again. I believe that no matter what, it would have caught up with me again... and in many respects I am SO LUCKY that it happened here, where I had a safety net. Where I had individuals who knew me at least well enough to try to keep me afloat until I stopped making sense completely. Where, in the grand scheme of things, Cleveland is such a globally insignificant city that to fuck up here registers on only one local radar and then slowly fades away.

No ties means a clean break.
Resentment means fuel for the rocket boosters.
Knowledge is power.

No other single event could have been more informative, and beneficial than my manic break last year. And though the shockwaves still echo somewhat throughout the vicinity, I have learned to comporte myself in a much better manner than before. I have seen a slice of true human nature. I have gained invaluable insight when it comes to myself, my diagnosis, and my future. Without last year, I would be doomed to repeat the horrors of St. Augustine in some capacity at some future date which surely would have been so much more damaging than the foolishness of last year.

I am lucky.

But I am still looking forward to getting the fuck out of here.

But for the first time in forever, I don't think that I'll be leaving with two extended middle fingers... Much more probable for departure will be a knowing smirk.