Last Christmas was when I first noticed that ugly soulfog creeping in, but it showed up in the form of social anxiety and a bound-up back. Holiday blues coupled with the worst winter cold I've had in years--that's all.

Then the worst semester of school--ridiculously difficult and boring classes (to me)with an equally ridiculous and boring professor who never missed an opportunity to disdain Christianity. Not something to look forward to three days a week--

Emily graduating and leaving for 10 weeks, learning to embrace death as a part of life--and all the while, that low-grade soulfog dragging me down, sucking the energy out of me. I slogged on, determined. Just determined that depression wasn't going to keep me in the gray.

A trip to Nashville/Kentucky pushed it down for a week--we had fun and not one bickering moment in 1500 miles. Just me and my two girls in a Suburban traveling through Arkansas (aka Lucifer's Hollow)--I'll be doling that story out one tidbit at a time!

But there it was, waiting to hug me when I got home. I can't think, can't remember a damn thing, and I don't really care.

Life continues, and the floors need refinishing. So there I was, on my hands and knees, running a belt sander for 12 hours straight on 50-year-old varnish. Yes, I used a mask. Didn't help. In 24 hours, my body had called it quits, refusing to take in air without making me pay for it in panic. Every joint and muscle hated me. The first 10 days of August exist only has pain and panic for me. Insomnia, night sweats and chills so hard my knees and elbows would lock up and Miriam would wrap her arms around me until I stopped shaking. Both she and Abby told Phil I needed to see a doctor because my shut-down brain was not comprehending( the lack of oxygen to my brain had something to do with that) not understanding--until I thought I was having a heart attack in the middle of the night.

Ladies and gentlemen, wear your particle mask and use the proper equipment when sanding anything. You can be poisoned by breathing in toxic 50-yr-old varnish. That coupled with a hormone defiency (can you be in the red in hormone production? Apparently you can...) took me down, down, down. My body finally stopped like a tired puppy does on a long walk. No more. Just. No. More.

And did you know that the right balance of nutrients in you body will work miracles? I glady swallow 30 supplements a day --for now-- getting my depleted system back in working order.

It feels as if I've been away for 9 months (yes, I get the symbolism) and have just returned.

I've missed you.