I feel as if I've sailed..

"over a year, in and out of weeks and through a day..." and ended up right back where I started. The irony is not lost on me at all.

I am not so sure that my wild rumpus over the years was really so wild as it was just plain wildly emotional. I embodied every emotion - every wild thing, except that I was never Max. I was never that child who could get lost in moment of blissful fantasy. So that's where I am right now.

I have been lucky over the last few months to reconnect with life long and dear friends, people who knew me when I was actually a real child. They've shared stories with me, told me about me, things that I've long forgotten. The essence of me. And the remarkable thing, the thing that I had forgotten is that I was a great kid - a lovable and friendly child who was happy and seemed to make people happy. For years I only saw myself through the eyes of the miserable and judgmental people around me. I simply began to believe them.

Hearing these endearing stories of my past has helped me find myself again. It feels right. It's like coming back home.