November 8 is a significant day in my history.  It was the day I took my place at “home”, without understanding that “home” wasn’t permanent.

For years in the summer, the month of July precisely I celebrated and/or mourned a specific weekend.  It was a reminder of me in my 20s when I met the person eventually referred to as The Man in this blog.

I held onto that date and that week and went through every emotion I allowed myself to feel because of that week.

Sometime around 5 or 6 years ago – perhaps even longer – I stopped. That period of my life held a different level of significance for me and I no longer wanted to put myself through the process of being that girl any longer.

I missed her.  I missed her hopeless romantic inclinations.  I missed her optimism. I missed her innocence and her willingness. I eventually understood that I could never be her again. In the years since the 1990s and when I no longer remembered with purpose, I let go of that girl.

When I opened my calendar this morning I saw a reminder note – for November 8 and saw there is another girl I have to let go.

I haven’t yet, and it reminded me that through all of this mess my life is at the moment, letting go is not the answer.

If I can find a way to leave her on the past, my future might have a shot. The problem is in the past 6 months or so I seem to be able to do very little, of merit.

Going back to therapy will help some, but it won’t fix what ails me. I no longer know what will.  The consistent question since my last hospitalization is – who am I?

At 43 that question should be simple to answer, yet in the next 90 days that answer won’t come.  Since I live (if that’s what I call it these days) in 90 day blocks that is a problem.

My adult life the definition of me was constructed around who I was to others – friend lover slave mother daughter advocate dragon slayer.

Now that I am stripped of all my definitions left only with “me” how I manage my daily existence suffers.

November 8 is the anniversary of the day I accepted the collar extended to me.

I don’t wear that collar now.

I won’t ever wear that collar again.

I won’t ever be the woman I was before October 31, 2014 again either.

Aphrodite Brown