I'm not anything I was before

Every person who was in my life is gone. Every skill I rely on is deteriorating. I used to react to my PTSD by packing up and moving as soon as I was triggered; but now I'm too old and weak to do that.

A city bus stops right outside the front door of my

building and I watch it pass three times an hour which is reassuring, because I know if I dragged my Walker out there I could get on and start riding away, it's just I'm so exhausted. 

Exhausted from my whole life. Workaholism kept me from being a drunk but it also burned every nerve ending in my body to a fray. I am so tired. 

If I try to do anything I used to do, I don't have the strength. 

So I sit almost like a yogini in meditation with my laptop open clicking from one video to another traveling the world and finding a Serenity almost like that of a yogini.

Anything can happen from here. I'm an empty vessel with enough health to stay alive for a few more years, but I'm not in the driver's seat anymore. I am literally doing Do It Yourself hospice from a little room at 6,000 feet up watching everything scientists predicted about global warming come true only so much faster with so many unexpected results that it could have been scripted by Spielberg.

Next few years, I'll have plenty to pay attention to and who knows where or how I'll end up. I just know I'm not the person who I was the last 77 years, and the world is not the world I used to live in. 

And I'm perched in a perfect place to watch this phenomenal story play out knowing that there's no guarantee of Happy Endings except in Hollywood.

kay e