I don't know what that arrangement was I could never tell like you could.

These things take practice.
I wish I didn't seem to need a base of quiet, order, introspection to be my best self.
It can mean I'm not the best mom. Partner. Daughter. Person. 
There are all the metaphors about how everyone is a different type of plant. We all need different things to be okay. To function.

Some seasons are horrible growing seasons.

Stuck in the past. Drawing rings around Saturn.

Things are supposed to get easier with time.

My borderline ass is trying to scoop as much compassion for others. For self. Trying to find the socially appropriate way to be. Trying not to talk too much. Not to shut down too much. Not to respond to the stimuli that tell me: you're back in Mississippi.

This is a new place. Not a do-over. But...it's also a do-over.

Y'know?