homeostasis
Things are fine, meaning I am still breathing. Things are not fine, meaning there is a long haul ahead. My body shut me down last night, and I sound like a cross between Linda Blair and Debbie Harry this morning. I guess this is one way to keep things quiet.

This has what has helped me through these last weeks, the quiet. The interesting thing now, though, is I don’t really know what else I need. I know that I don’t want to be overstimulated, but I don’t want to be understimulated, either. There is such a fine line between these things for me now that the easiest thing for me is to choose to say and do very little. Which works out because most of the things people try to say or do in trying to say or do the right thing do not make me feel any better and often make me feel worse, despite the most genuine intentions, and my staying quiet lets the person trying off the hook. Some words do help, the simplest words—“I’m sorry” is nice, but just listening is best. Communication can be overrated.

Beyond my not knowing what I need, it is also interesting for me to watch who steps up and who steps back. I’ll end my chapter on Cougar by saying only that he stepped back, no blame and no problem and most likely appropriate (if unplanned) timing; I needed reminding that in the end I have me and just me, really. But, in this world of solitary personal power I do have others, willing. I have a few in my life who know me extremely well and know exactly what I need even when I do not (thank you, Derry-Lou, I hope that you do not sound like Debbie Harry today, too). For this, and for all, I am grateful beyond words. Thank you for being selfless. For reminding me that you are waiting.