My head is like a London Fog, a fog so mystical that it looks like a solid wall constantly in front of you and you can barely make out the cobblestone beneath your feet.  A fog so thick that the lighthouse operator has resorted to the three-trumpet frog signal too keeps ships at bay.

In the blindness of the fog each step feels like eternity till my foot hits solid ground, with hands stretched out searching for danger, obstacles or a friendly soul that can guide or walk me threw this mind altering and imageless box of nothingness.

Even though this fog is so thick and dense I eerily feel light, like floating on a cloud.  With the fear of having no forward, backwards, left or right vision there is also a sense of calmness, an angelic feeling that your floating in air and if you trip and fall the fog will cushion the blow.

Finally in my reaching I find a wall and creep along till I find a door, which I open... not knowing what is on the other side.  I get in the door and I hear voices but the lights are so bright I get light blinded.  I hear a soft voice in a sweet southern accent “…are ya’all ok son? You look like you just seen a ghost…”  My vision comes back slowly and I find myself in the middle of a busy lobby.  I shake my head a few times in attempt to gain focus and figure out where I’m.  I reached out towards the soft voice and the women grabbed my hand.  Her hand felt like water surrounding my whole being and I looked into her eyes and replied “thank-you ma’m but I’m just a little dazed from the fog… but I’m fine”, “what fog?”, she inquired.  Puzzled but with a big smile on my face I replied, “just the one in my head, but it’s ok, everything will be just fine.  Thank-you so much you are a blessed person”

With that said she vanished and I found myself in front of a century old elevator, run on grease and pulleys with a sliding brass gate on each floor.  I knew this elevator; it leads to my psychiatrist office. 

The fog in my head has blinded so long however my out stretched arms were meet with loving caring people. 

Subconsciously reaching for help is confusing, finding it when you don’t want it is frustrating but coming to the realization that I see the world like a glass that is totally empty is a sign to the end.  Sounds so nice to fill up the glass so that I can float to the top but knowing the blissful inner peace of having nothing and falling into the fog has a sense of security, destiny and purpose.

The liquid handshake of the southern women in the lobby overwhelms my thoughts of purpose, belonging and reason.  I believe that I am a good, caring loving person with special gifts with or without this fog. 

I am here for a reason... it's something everyone say’s.  One of the most important things and earliest things my mother taught me was “there is a reason for everything, you may not understand it today, tomorrow or the next day but sooner or later you’ll figure it out”.

As I stand in front of the brass doors of the elevator I push the up button.  Entering a world that challenges me to think that if I don’t come out of the fog I’ll never figure the reason.  Right now I’m starting to believe the reason for everything is so that I can help anyone.  I’ve experienced the infinity of emotions from the highest high to the lowest low.  Inflicted and self inflicted with pain, humiliated and denied dignity to honored and recognized for my accomplishments. 

My reason was lost in me.  The me, myself and I complex, the only one left in my family syndrome but looking through the fog I can see how I can reach out and give liquid handshakes and help someone else, this could be my purpose, my reason.