Imagine taking a test and knowing the answer to a problem but not being able to fill in that stupid little circle. You're not sure why. Your brain seems to be functioning perfectly. Everything is fluid. Things have slowed down. Yet, your arm doesn't move. Your hand can't grasp the pencil.

That is essentially the point I am at right now with a few critical issues in my life. While it might be equally as frustrating as the noise and mass confusion that used to fill seemingly everything I did with my life, it's a noticeable improvement. Something real. Something I can touch.

You can step on a scale every day for 3 months and see that you have slowly lost those fifteen pounds you want to lose, and you tell everyone how happy you are. But, it's only when you try on those pants that you haven't worn for 3 months and get that proud, accomplished feeling that you truly convince yourself that all of those things you were saying are real.

The small steps are coming together. The house might not be built but I can read the blue print.

I have no idea why this entry is full of analogies. I guess that's the way I feel the most comfortable writing. Analogies make things easier. Analogies are improving my journey of me being me. If I don't have an answer, I can find parallels to compare it to. An everyday issue such as weight loss or building a house. I have these answers. And, ironically, I've done them both recently.

I'm working as a framer right now. I build the wood framing on houses. I don't care much for the people I work with, but I've adjusted. It took a bit longer than expected to adjust. Adjusting is my strongest personality feature, which probably isn't a good thing, and is almost certainly the root of the aforementioned confusion. My father is an adjuster. Maybe that's the cause of his underlying anger and frustration too. Who knows?

What I do know is that I'm becoming happier. It is slow. I'm stepping on the scale each day. The scale that embodies my own happiness. Some days I go backwards. Some days I move forward. But, as a whole, I'm moving forward. I can see and feel it. The problem is, I wear the same baggy clothes. Daily reminders of the person I was. It's difficult to forget. Hell, I don't even know if I want to forget. But, I know that I'm changing. And, I'm happy for that.

I put on that old Sigur Ros song. I feel those same feelings, but the justification has changed. I can still see the scar, but I can't feel the pain anymore. I'm OK with that.