but....

 in spite of all the worries and fears I have - I have a wonderful life. I've got a wonderful job, a peaceful & lovely apartment, two gorgeous cats, enough money to be far from poverty, and a amzing man who loves me. I've got my health, friends, a deep desire to expand and grow, a fierce curiosity and enough faith in myself to somehow manage it all.
Sometimes I have to stand back and look at only what is solid and true in order to ground myself in the wonder & awe & beauty & love that is the wolrd I live in EVERYDAY. There is soo much beauty and love and joy that surrounds me (and all of us) that sometimes I have to force myself to look away from the tarry pit of self-pity, and exault in the simple peace & joy of rain.

doubtful

It's not that I hate PMS, because I don't. If anything - I fear it. I don't know how to look at my emotional state during this time. Is this how I TRULY feel, and simply repress during my less 'in touch' times? Or is this simply a silly side effect of the hormonal cocktail swirling through my system? I don't know - and with that not knowing comes the fear. I don't know if I should grant any validity to the concerns I have now - are they concerns that are true & valid ones, that I have stubbornly ignored and assumed I would be strong/intelligent/willing enough to work out? Or are they problems that will be in the long run, minute ones - but for this period of time they are molehills bloated into mountains?
I don't know anymore. And it's really scary. I tend to believe that for the most part - I'm in touch with myself. It might take me a little time, but I listen to my heart and take its view of the truth and try to tone down the relentlessly logical paradigm I normally operate under. Even still, I know that sometimes I ignore what my deepest sense of myself is telling me - because it's too hard, too ugly, too sudden, too DIFFERENT from what I do everyday - and I can do that seamlessly - with only this time being the time that I am forced to look right into my heart - with no option of recoiling from the mirror I see there. But I can't tell if it's a clear smooth mirror, or a funhouse one. And I can't talk to my friends because the things I see there I don't want to think of - much less hash out with someone else. I can't even write them down and out - here, on paper, anywhere! Maybe I would feel comfortable writing them out in the sandy shore of an ocean and watching the waves dissolve them...but anything even vaguely semi-permanent? I can't do it.
This time - the mirror is showing me something so totally life-changing I can't even LOOK at it. It's been creeping into the back of my head occasionally over the last month or two - but I've shoved it back figuring it to be just a general grousing of the spirit - me growing and stretching as I learn and experience more. Now - today - they don't look the same. My heart is telling me the very last thing I want to hear, and right now I CAN'T do anything but give it time & space and validity to grow - or to die. Maybe it's a phantasm that will fade away after a week - or maye it's a swelling tumor that will choke me until I yield. I can do nothing more right now than acknowledge both of those options - and honestly, I'm not even sure which I would prefer.
I think that is what scares me the most.