Things to do in Jersey when you're alive

I didn't really do much at all. Didn't eat as much crap as I had projected. Actually, forgot to eat quite a bit. Didn't go to the Shore like I planned. No partying. No craziness.

I talked to people, random strangers and unrelenting friends alike. I soaked in a hot tub. I slept. And for the first time - really really the first time: I let it all out. All of it. From zygote to the week prior. I let it all out. I melted for about 3 hours.

After it was all done, it stormed like a sonofabitch.

"Maybe the Heavens feel the same way I do."

"Or maybe God is crying with you."

Maybe. May-be.

During a recent visit, and upon mentioning that I had been feeling a bit numb lately, my counselor told me that it all never really comes bubbling up until you feel safe.

What happened when I went Home was mammoth.

Three hours of howling. Pure, unadulterated howling. It all came together. It all fit. I said things out loud I don't think I ever consciously got upset about. I just couldn't handle it at the time I suppose. I had diarrhea of the memory.

So I got into Fargo around 11 last night. It was wonderful to have the surprise of my little ones being dropped off a day early. Groggy as I was, I couldn't have been happier to see them.