Everywhere you step, macka juk you

(No matter which direction you turn, there are trees with prickles all about).

I picked a fine time to be out of a regular income... I must be crazy some may have thought. Indeed I was. Just not the way you think.

I was on the verge of a nervous breakdown. Depression had taken me to places I had never been before and never want to return. This wasn't just about me not being able to handle pressure. I was ill. I was ill because I was overcome with fear due to two personal acts of violence committed against me in a foreign country, in which no one could be identified as friend or defender. I was alone and in fear for my life... and sanity.

So I did what I thought would be the most practical thing... leave. It was a choice between preserving life and sanity or making money. Each was at the expense of the other. They were mutually exclusive.

Having never been rich, it wasn't hard for me to select poverty.

Putting fun and jokes aside, I made contingencies, trying to account for the huge financial fallout. ESC and I also decided that it would be good for me to join him where part he be.

As the date draws near for my transatlantic departure, I seem to be getting more and more nervous. It's a humongous step- all of 13hrs worth- and a whole lot of uncertainties lie in between.

What on earth could I be nervous about? Nothing I haven't already contemplated and tried to make contingencies for, but that never stopped Mr. Murphy.

I am struggling, really struggling to find centre and stay grounded... after all... is my life not ordered by Higher Order? But these damn voices wont stop yapping in my head.