All I needed was to let my skin breathe and my mind draw a blank.

After seeking therapy for my anxiety disorder on a more constant and persistent basis, I find myself applying it to everything I experience. It’s more than just talking to someone and letting them into your head to poke around the weird bits and find the ones that peak some significant interest. It’s a way of opening your mind to a way of thinking that can help you navigate the bullshit.

I am sitting here and thinking about a lot of things pertaining to the past, present, and future. All of the little blobs of time that sit for a moment and continue on, merrily waddling in odd directions. And now I’ve turned time into anthropomorphic blobs that waddle. Wibbly wobbly, timey-wimey stuff.

Everything is connected; there is a progression. I have grown and changed as a person and I am always looking back at how it all happened. My figure has grown and shrunk and grown again. I wave happily at fresh stretch marks and chub rub burn, accept my blotchy hive-infested skin as much as possible, jut my gut out as I please, and prefer to exist without pants.

I’ve just returned from a two day canoe trip with a gaggle of beautiful beings that I am so happy to be able to know and love. Extreme skin sensitivity and chronic migraines make it hard to be out in 90+ degree weather without a cloud in the sky for two days, but I was fine until the end. I’ve decided canoeing is something beautiful and can’t wait to get in a kayak. I find that my body and mind are at complete and utter fucking peace when I’m making my way down a river.

Someday soon, I will make another day of it. Broad-shouldered former swimmer with competitive-sports and fitness-anxiety turns to semi-lackadaisical rowing methods as a non-triggering approach to body movement. Seems a likely development.