Water Logged

I am driftwood, caught between the partially-submerged rock ledge of a knarled coastline.  I rise and sink with the tide, gradually dulled as the moon's rolling station presides upon the ocean's stages of repletion.  Resigned, I watch myself lose definition and shape, weather-beaten, until an unusually fervid force should call to carry:  the ledge of a wave cupping what remains of my stiff shaft in its froth; together lifted to the shoreline of an unfamiliar, higher ground.

I hate to be indulgent;  yes, I realize I have more power to change my path than a piece of stale lumber lost to the sea.  I was raised in the belly of the Maine lobstering districts, and it is easy for me to rely on imagery recalling nautical scenes.  Certainly not original, I know.  Yet, I do so often feel trapped, in the cage of my own making.  The primary dilemma:  I have too often, too easily contented myself to an unremarkable existence in my hometown community.  I can live comfortably with the support of my parents and a low-cost (but trusted) therapist.  I can paint when the mood strikes me and work here and there at odd jobs in town and the larger city adjacent.  But then, might I not strive to explore more of the country or world?  I currently have seventy-five to eighty percent of my belongings packed in boxes, with half in a storage locker in L.A.  Yep-- I have been attempting to make a transition to southern California, an arena that has long held my imagination.  I moved west in late 2008, but was back in Maine (depleted and exhausted) by March 2010.  I did not find the connections at the time, the proper path, to lead towards a particular direction or future in any specific trade.  From a young age I have harbored an insatiable interest in media, art, pop culture, fashion, design, antiques -- but just how I parlay those passions is still uncertain.  To get back to Los Angeles, with its ever-azure dome and deep well of possibilities, has been the primary motivation in a stalled attempt to gain weight and independence.  I desire to be healthier and a bit more robust, at the very least to present myself as more than a haggard shell of a woman, with improved mental acuity a welcome bonus.  I will be working on a normalized easting regime, with significantly reduced exercise, to reclaim this dream.  I am terrified, as ever, that should I come back I will not secure the funds or partnerships to support myself.  This worry at times stifles my motivation, as I have seen homelessness and felt what it is to be desperate.  But for now, I think it it best to focus my energy on restoring a nutritionist-endorsed food plan while finding pleasant distractions/work as I settle again into life in Maine -- if only (one hopes) for a limited duration.