I'd been doing okay. Everything was going according to plan again - as much as there can be a plan.

And then at the end of an almost month-long vacation, I broke down. In the middle of the airport. In the security line.

WTF

If there's ever a place you don't want to look like you're an emotional wreck, it's the security line at an airport.

I made it through without incident thankfully. But again while waiting for my flight home, I had to retreat to the washrooms to try to compose myself. I don't know where it all came from. I don't know where it went.

It just showed up...said its piece...and left.

Well, perhaps it's not totally gone. There are remnants of the emotions floating around in some sort of gravitational field around me. I feel them get stronger occasionally. I have to succumb to the overwhelming emotion of sadness. Of feeling lost. Of being out of control.

I need to see my therapist again.