It is 4:30 AM and I slept sort of shitty last night. I had to make a bed out of a few pillows as I loaded my bed into the POD. It is going to be picked up around 1:00 today so I don't have much to do besides loading the last few boxes and to prepare the house for its last inspection. Hopefully, I will start my travels back to Colorado tomorrow. I am feeling mixed feelings; leaving my girl and the life that we have built is really sad. We have dated long distance before so we can do this. I am excited about building a life in Colorado but there is so much uncertainty. I feel strong and capable of success. I have come a long way. In regards to managing my life and the difficulties related to living with a traumatic brain injury. I know that it is now time to return home. To grow.
I probably talk about religion too much. But sometimes I feel overwhelmed by the intolerable influx of God-speak funneled into my head day after day. It is refreshing when an entertainment icon tells the people cold hard facts.
I have convicted feelings about the state of our nation. Unfortunately, the Donald Trump movement says more about the folks who make up the American electorate than it does about this born rich racist narcissist. The frightening thing is, The Donald is a viable candidate and could become our nations next president. I know, it is horrifying to imagine; but not far-fetched - we are the people who elected (at least once) George W. Bush. I cringe and the world is not laughing at us because they are equally frightened.
Florida. I have lived here for over 3 very good years. I am sure that my cognitive development has accelerated tremendously during my stay in the SoFla swamp. The years immediately following my accident were challenging and due to my new limitations - mentally and physically - I struggled. I could not embrace my new life; nor acknowledge the new me. Instead, all of the immediate reminders/comparisons of who I was prior to my traumatic brain injury flooded my environment and fueled my denial. This was an overwhelming limiter and I was not really improving. I don't think that I was depressed, but I was a mental wanderer. Thankfully, I found Mimi (or she found me) and we began dating long-distance; ultimately I moved to South Florida so that we could be closer. The years that followed have too many specific benchmarks to list here, but I am grateful. Now, it is time to go home. In the next few days I will, finish packing my moving POD, drive back to Colorado and then embark on phase 3 of the Dick Dime restoration.