Enough

It has been suggested by a respected blogger that I'm circling my point here and not getting to it. This is true. So I'll get right to the point, right now, although I don't have the energy or will to elaborate tonight.

I'm writing this blog because since the later years of the Eisenhower presidency--that is to say, since my earliest memories--I have experienced life way too much of the time as a pain-based, broken-glass-inside-the-skull dance of anxiety, dread and doubt. Or to put it another way: since about the time Sputnik was launched I have been one considerably screwed up, if apparently high-functioning, individual. Throwing myself into the 12 steps of Al-Anon, resuming work on a long ago set-aside piece of writing, beginning a new and powerful kind of therapy and, yes, blogging, are all part of my decision to make this, my 52nd year, the year that I say ENOUGH and begin to find a way to live without broken glass inside my skull.

You may ask what the significance of the photo is. Very simple: I took it one morning on one of the best bike rides I've ever taken in my life and I put it here to cheer myself up. No, that's not true. I put it here to show off to you that I've been to Easter Island, I can afford to take big trips, and so, you see, I can't be that messed up after all, can I?