I’m a 47 year old divorced, broke white woman with RA, dentures, and three cats seeking a life. Since my first Update, I moved to DC, dated one man for a few months, weaned myself off of Effexor and Klonopin, stopped writing, had lung surgery, moved to upstate NY, become estranged from the last founding member of my family, got a part-time job, started a high raw diet, and am in the process of moving back to Maryland.
Hundreds of stories lie within those events, and hundreds more lie ahead. Why can’t I write them? I miss the girl who wrote all these posts. I don’t know what happened to her. Did her nerve and confidence and discipline disappear with the Klonopin? Did just existing extinguish her desires and dreams?
We shall see.