He could have just said I’d be away. But he didn’t and I guess this is why it stuck with me:

I was sitting at a picnic table at Soul, the local brewery we go to sometimes after pickup soccer on Sundays. A group of eight or so of us lingered around the table, salty elbows and hands between cold glasses of beer, kissed-warm by the sun. We were discussing the idea of a team barbecue, and as I mentally ran through my calendar to check dates that were being tossed around, one of the guys said:

“We can’t that weekend, Christina will be in Utah.”

I came across this line, my own writing, from a couple years ago. Writing that I kept private, for fear of shame, guilt, permission. Maybe even actualization. 

I look at these words now, from my then-future self, and realize how important it was for me to make the observation. To write those words. Then. Now. Every day.

….

“

I’ve gotten really good at being depressed. 

I woke up this morning in an all-too familiar state: a blanket heavy with regrets weighing over me, the endless tail-chase of what I could have said and what would have been, playing on repeat in my mind. 

This feeling of wanting is curious.  

I am sitting outside on my sister’s patio table, gazing out at grey clouds intertwined with mountains and the setting sun above the Hudson River. I’m immersed in the sounds of crickets and the chirps of birds at dusk and a few rumbles of thunder on the horizon. The air is cool, laden with water droplets both rising from the earth and ready to fall. It is beautiful. 

This is where I have wanted to be all day, and for many days. This is also where I want to leave. 

The Earth is still tucked in beneath a blanket of clouds when my sneaker first meets the pavement. I adjust my armband and look out at the empty sidewalk that rolls down the street ahead of me. 

Just months ago, I used to feel almost proud on the days I’d sleep in. Those extra hours on the weekend would feel like a much-needed catch up from the long week I’d just closed out. 

Now, something else has become more needed. 

I jumped in quickly to write a lead in ahead of Amanda because, wow, I found this awesome!

 Thank you for this gift, Christina…wow. (And the four Posa sisters continue lighting up the world!)

I have…

...just one COMPLAINT…

 …the title…

 I would love for the sequel – I want there to be a follow-up or two! - to be titled “Inside My Typical Mind” while this one "Inside My Crazy Mind” suggests that your mind is, in some fashion, many standard deviations away from our own in how it works!