Happy trails (back)

Hi, world. It's me, back from outer space.

Actually, it's kind of fitting that it's Earth Day, which means it's Matt's birthday, which means it's almost four years to the day that I was diagnosed bipolar. ... And that means it took me just about four years to get the help I needed. Need.

It took a new city, a very long winter (winter changes everything -- you didn't believe me, did you?), a lot of soul-searching, a trip to Atlanta, a day in Memphis, a serious chance at losing everything and then, finally, someone who cared enough to take the first step for me ... and who kept an eye on my pills and stuff.

I'm not saying I totally know which way is up yet, but I've been handed a map and a compass. And a couple of books to read. And another mood-stabilizing med.

The blog came down because I felt I'd said it all. It started as therapy (with a little bit of the bizarre thrown in) and, well, therapy was over because I was sure I had it all figured out. I'm not sure anymore, and that means there's still a reason it's here. And I'm here. The other casualties: my MySpace page is no more; Xbox Live was expunged; and Facebook was stripped to bare bones. (No offense intended.)

The only thing I couldn't bring myself to delete/strip was Twitter. I just couldn't do it. I love keeping up with you and your 140-character goodness.

I know I've done a lot of stupid stuff in the past four years, and I wish I'd been smart enough (or prudent enough or better equipped cash-wise) to get the help I needed. If you're reading this, you deserve a pat on the back. Happy Earth Day; and happy birthday, Matt; and, um ... welcome home, Kate.