Dear Trae, What Do You Do When There's A Light At Both Ends Of The Tunnel?

I know that sounds odd, but allow me to explain. 

The end of the tunnel? Oh, you always see it, and it is always bright. But it's like the will-o-the-wisp; no matter how fast you race towards it, it always seems out of reach. 

The light behind?

Missed opportunities, shimmering with the light of a million "we told you so"'s. 

-

There have been many a time when, quagmired in my depression, when I've wished I could crawl my way through the fifth dimension and go back to a certain point in time and change an event. But the moment one moves out of four dimensional space (where we really reside, that fourth dimension being time), well, you become "sauce". That's my belief, anyway. Sure, you can visit the past, but if you want to remain on the same timeline, you'd better damn sure not change a thing. Oh, absolutely, you might go back to your proper time and things will look somewhat normal. But you have shifted your timeline, I am willing to bet. Besides, as they say, all the events that have happened to you, good and bad, have brought you to where you are currently, good and bad. 

Life is a harsh teacher, existence is somewhat optional and up to you. 

And time is a bitch.

-

Sure, there are happier times ahead. I always manage to find some happiness. I think the light ahead is the combined light of all of those possibilities, shining as one, due to their distance. They might be little breakthroughs (getting some solar observation work done, maybe building something, some art...), or, for all we know, something exemplary, a life truly changing moment instead of those minuscule course adjustments. Who knows?

Regardless, that light is still there. 

I wonder how many of those little lights I've passed already, yet somehow missed?

-

Regardless, I have to pull myself out of the furrow I am in. I have bi-weekly appointments with a counselor, and have one tomorrow. I am thinking of taking my little notepad and recording some of the things I've felt over the past two weeks. By the way, I tend to take a little notepad everywhere these days, save church. I guess in Aspie circles, this is my form of "stimming". Having a notebook (or PDA, or palmtop computer, or some-what-smartish-phone) comforts me. It feels like a connection to what I am. 

Typically Aspie, as it turns out, and I've been doing it for many, many years.

But I have to find a way out of this one.

It is one of the darkest I've been in.

And I'm serious.

-

Must run. Need to take part two of my morning medications, grab breakfast, shower, trim the beard, and get to 11 am mass. After that, I'll see what I can do. 

Maybe I'll think of roadtrips to Stuart, seeking Tex-Mex.

Of course, from here, that'd be ludicrous.

Always,

Corbie