Yesterday I had a really good day, thank God. Brian and Rosa sent me their critiques of my grad school essay. Amongst the highlights were "This is really good," and "You're 90% done." More important than stroking my ego, though, they offered a lot of really helpful suggestions. Sometimes I'm amazed at how lucky I am to have these two in my life. Putting up with all the stupid shit I had to put up with from my site in Ukraine was worth it for no other reason than I got meet some really fantastic people, these two being prime examples.
In about 30 minutes I'll head off to an appointment I've been dreading for weeks; a five hour series of tests to determine whether or not I'm suffering from Post Traumatic Stress Disorder. I've been pretty emotional all week, so this may not be the best time for me to go and talk to a clinical psychologist about my accident, which makes me a little dizzy and lightheaded and panicky to talk about even on a good week. In fact, if I do more than describe briefly what happened I get totally freaked out. I suppose that in itself is a sign that there's a problem.
I don't want there to be a problem, though. I'm tired of being so fucking sensitive that when other people are in pain I feelit too. I feel like I take it on, sometimes. And then, when I'm upset or hurt I'm practically blinded by what I feel. I'm such a freak sometimes.
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