Styx Ferries 'R Us

First if all I would like to say that while feeling like a huge lump of stinking shit I can still acknowledge and appreciate the fact that I have the most amazing people in my life that anyone could ask for. The comments, e-mails, phone calls and glasses of wine are priceless; among the tougher experiences I've faced in life, I am lucky that being truly alone in the darkest sense of the word is not something I have ever had to or will ever have to face. If I feel alone these days, it is only due to self isolation and a misperceived inability to pick up a phone. I am truly loved by my friends, who are of such depth and quality and heart and strength to the degree that many people never find. Plus they're spunky, witty, sassy, original, sarcastic, brilliant, and fun...which is like the carmelized sugar on top of creme brulee - the extra little thing that pushes an already great desert into heavenly realms.

So I will be okay. I have been through worse and this is in no way like the panic attack ridden suicidal depression I had the fall after my brother's death. It is, however, quite a powerful vacuum sucking away at energy, vitality, humor, enjoyment of anything at all, and hope. I feel like I'm not here...I'm not sure where I went to, but I'm not here. I can be accounted for in vague generalities, but I'm not really present. I'm like the hollow chocolate bunnies they sell around Easter...and yes, if you bite me, I will crack.

I have a date on Wednesday afternoon, with Lady Charon, to take a ferry across the river and explore the scary haunted terrain I've avoided with great skill thus far. I've only spoken to the tour guide briefly on the phone, but I think I might like her; she seems kind and wise and very adept at perceptive navigation. She came highly reccomended from a good friend whose opinion I trust implicitly. However I'm scared shitless of Cerberus.