When this crazy journey began, I was so fortunate to have people around me to help my attempt to be “normal”. Poor Cheryl became my full time babysitter and was such a trooper. You know you have a good friend when they will jump off a wooden platform in insanely hot weather because you want to go zip-lining!!! Anyway……..I tried to go out as often as possible. I think it was the “get back on the horse” mentality. I never turned down an invitation even though I would come up with 100 excuses to not go even while I was traveling to the destination. I often had some sort of meltdown during these outings and would try to do it as quietly as possible but I still felt as if everyone in the room was staring at me. I’m sure they all wondered “what is wrong with her???” I probably would have done the same before this all happened to me. I often wished that an old tradition still held true…….back in the day, black was not vogue but instead a sign of mourning. Widows wore black for a year and that was an immediate signal to people that she was in her mourning period. When I would have my breakdowns, I wished there was a signal that would let people know what I was experiencing. Why I looked “normal” except for the fact that that I randomly started crying at dinner, or on a plane, or in the grocery store, and the list goes on and on and on. I thought about things I could wear or have to let people know but short of having a sign, there didn’t seem to be anything. Maybe that’s something I can think about again. I’m pretty much (yes, 6 years later and I can still be triggered by the smallest thing) past that phase but every second someone is not so maybe I can take some of the weight off of the new members of the club.