It's a long road

Someone asked me today how I am. I said that it was hard to hold it together. He told me that I make it look easy. I'm sure he meant it as a compliment, like I have so much fabulous grace under pressure kind of stuff. But I don't. 

I cry at the shoe section of Burlington Coat Factory. I weep during my massages. I lose it in the driveway. (That's all today.)

Maybe he just catches me when I'm lucid. When I put sentences together with the words all in the right order. When I don't consistently and without noticing call all female children that I'm related to "Katie."  

I feel that I speak like a stroke victim.  What I'm saying is not what I'm thinking in my head. It's a huge disconnect. I can't remember the word "blue," but I see it in my head and then I say the word "red."  I tell the same three people the same thing ten times, but I never Renee to tell it to the twenty people I need to inform. 

Yeah. I'm fine.