Fog

Sandpipers at Singing Sands, Bruce Peninsula National Park, August 2001


Talking to a couple friends last night, I decided to give Celexa one more night. I want to make things better.

I came back from the river just now, the first time I've gone out since Sunday night. I felt spatially disoriented. To see things clearly, I had to look directly at them. I felt one degree away from losing my way home.

The water was high. I leaned against Old Man Willow and felt embraced in the arms of nature. The sharp wind made my scalp ache, but I was grateful for the reminder that I am alive and my senses have not left me. The air smelt of moisture and mud.

In June 1996 when I first started taking Paxil, I remember crossing the Speed River one day at Edinburgh Bridge. In the sunlight and wind I felt an unprecedented contentment. It was as if I had never felt happy before, and in truth I had not. I have practiced happiness ever since.

I did it under a fog until I stopped taking Paxil in 2001. Since then I've managed pretty well, although I still need some changes. Returning to the fog will not help me make them.