Quote from: EchelonHunt on July 17, 2014, 09:33:24 AM
Missing your old life for the convenience it gave you, the wool pulled over your eyes so you could not see who you really are...
The kind of blindness that leaves you blissfully unaware of the problems bubbling underneath the surface...
*This.
It isn't very hard to see that there is more to this than what you let on or may even realize.
It leaves me more concerned than your difficulties with HRT and now you're giving up on what you have already worked for.
The answers you seek, beyond the attention you crave are abundant, yet you run away from them,... Why?
I have to ask myself the question and so should you, what is this really about?
Not the superficial comments of this and that, but the reason you even bring them up in various ways...
If you don't want to take and use the advice you're getting, even to consider it, consider that the problem runs deeper than you know.
I did get the kayak yesterday. Now to look over the satellite views of miles of river with very few access points along the way, again.
Very few places to seek help along the way should anything go wrong. Escape routes on land planned out, should I need them.
Where the river will run faster as it narrows and where it will run slower as it widens. This is all useful information.
I'll finalize my plans as best I can and know where to go should things suddenly change and a different plan needs to be made.
I think my cell phone will stay in range, but I won't rely on it. My decisions will always be to move forward, to flow with the river.
I'll stop and rest if need be, but there is no turning back, only a long walk carrying the load I ride in, the things I carry, should I change my mind.
Such is life. We get back what we put into it. Even if it means plunging headfirst into it after going over a fall.
I know my limits, I choose to step past them at times, it's how I still grow after all these years of trying to just be me.
I've also learned to use safety equipment, but to not have to rely on them, only hope at best that they will keep me a little safer.
Such is life. I have a lot of stories I could tell, none of them as important as anyone elses. But they are to me, they are mine.
I earned them, I took my path a step further than I needed to. I'm glad I did. I overcame the fear of living by facing death.
Both others and mine. I chose to step over it, around it, to move beyond it. Yet it's a constant companion on my path, now.
But it was nothing more than taking one more step, each one a step further than I thought I should and could. That's my plan.
It's worked pretty well over the last six decades. Lot's of refining and redefining. I think I'll stick with it. Such is life.
Ativan