Felt lousy. Still feels lousy.

The wounds that never heal are the very best ones - the "raw spot" is the embryo of authentic compassion. When somebody who hasn't been to that dark place tries to cheer you up, it feels like a kick in the teeth. When somebody who still feels part of the pain tries to cheer you up, whether or not you _feel_ better, you have the chance to _become_ better. And _feeling_ better will follow.

There are times in your life when it feels like the kick of a mule square in the middle of your chest. You are dizzy and you are on your ass in the dirt and you are afraid to rise lest you receive another kick. But that mule kick is a gift. I wish it would have happened to me at 15 instead of 25, so I would have a 10 year head start. But, whatever. There wasn't enough there for it to happen before 25.

At 25 I started changing. At 35 I changed enough to really feel I was able to stand upright against the wind. Crap, this garbage was supposed to be finished by now, but even this last year I learned things at 38 that made the first 37 years look like a joke. And so on, I guess.

On a less serious note:

My happiest life change was when I realized I could cut my own hair, and wouldn't have to go to the barber anymore. I hate the barber.