It feels as if I've been let out of jail. Like the released prisoner, freedom has a foreign yet familiar air. After years of oppression, autonomy is sickeningly sweet. I feel like a child over full on candy. The satisfaction and pleasure of having what I've long coveted is so rich, so sweet, so overwhelming that I've found myself unable to fully digest my good fortune. In many ways, I am finding that I must reinvent myself because my self-identity, as I've defined it for the past fifteen years, does not have relevance in my new life. Trying to find sanctuary from the torrent of self-actualization is futile. There is a peace, oddly enough, in the midst of this tidal wave of sweet passionate, liberating freedom. Finally, I am in the midst of a welcome and therapeutic storm.