Spring has sprung once again here in the Northland. Its supposed to be a time of excitement and renewed energy. Days are longer, warmer, and happier. Nature is lighter, brighter, and full of movement.
I'm not sure what the heck happens to me during this time of year, but when the world is coming alive, I start freaking out. Spring is a time of great anxiety for me. Perhaps its change. Change and I do not get along, and my brain tends to think the worst is about to happen with any change that presents itself.
For me, Spring equals IMPENDING DOOM. Its an increase of expectations to be a part of the world. Gone is the comfort of being wrapped up in electric blankets. Gone is the excuse to remain inside hunkered down "because its too cold out" (even though I spend a lot of time outside in the winter). For me, there is a bit of comfort in having the sun go down at 5:00 in the evening and having a blanket of snow covering the ground. We had a late season snowstorm just a week ago, and man, I felt a peace come over me. It felt relaxed and right.
When I hear people talk about the joy and excitement that Spring and Summer bring to them, it makes me question what the heck is wrong with me. Though there are many many aspects of the warmer seasons that I look forward to, anxiety overshadows it all with a black cloud of fear. Fear of what I do not know exactly. I feel almost.......lonely?
As a way to combat all of this anxiety, below is a list of activities that I am looking forward to participate in during the next few months.
Reading in the sunshine
Biking
Kayaking
yard work
bonfires
picking up garbage on the side of the road (a favorite pastime of mine)
beach days
swimming
walks by the river
hikes
sleeping with the windows open (even though I do this year round)
grilling out
mowing the lawn
Camping
Yes, there is much to look forward to. Only the thing is, I am not looking forward to ANY of that.
Showing posts with label Melancholies. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Melancholies. Show all posts
Wednesday, April 25, 2018
Friday, March 2, 2018
I AM
So, I have heard it said that if you tell yourself something enough times, you will come to believe it. My mind has been filled with some negative self talk lately, and I am trying to retrain my brain into believing positive affirmations. Several times a day I go through the alphabet and tell myself one positive trait that starts with each letter of the alphabet. The following are traits that I want to acquire and nurture within myself.
I AM
Accepting
Beautiful
Confident (some days this is calm)
Devoted (or determined)
Encouraging (some days this is energized)
Flexible
Gracious
Honest (some days this is happy)
Independent
Joyful
Kind
Loving
Motivated
Nice
Open Minded
Peaceful
Quiet
Relaxed
Strong
TRUSTING (the one I need to work on the most)
Understanding
Vulnerable
Welcoming
Xciting
Youthful
Zany
My hope is, is that if I say this to myself often enough, I will come to BE all of these traits. Some take a bit more effort than others, but each are ones I want to nurture.
I AM.
I AM
Accepting
Beautiful
Confident (some days this is calm)
Devoted (or determined)
Encouraging (some days this is energized)
Flexible
Gracious
Honest (some days this is happy)
Independent
Joyful
Kind
Loving
Motivated
Nice
Open Minded
Peaceful
Quiet
Relaxed
Strong
TRUSTING (the one I need to work on the most)
Understanding
Vulnerable
Welcoming
Xciting
Youthful
Zany
My hope is, is that if I say this to myself often enough, I will come to BE all of these traits. Some take a bit more effort than others, but each are ones I want to nurture.
I AM.
Monday, June 19, 2017
Time Marches On
Its been about 3 1/2 years since my mom passed. Some days, I still have a huge wave of sadness wash over me, especially when I have a bit of happy news to share.
Or sad news.
Or when I am bored.
Or when I hear a song that reminds me of her.
Or when I see a commercial I know she would hate.
Or when I watch a TV show we used to watch together.
Or when......
You get the idea.
My mom was my person. She was the one person who completely got me. An unspoken comfort.
Safe. So safe.
It is so hard to put into words the emptiness I feel, and even though time is marching on, some days I feel like the grief is still so raw. I came here to blog, but find myself completely stuck to accurately put down in words how I feel.
I just miss her.
Or sad news.
Or when I am bored.
Or when I hear a song that reminds me of her.
Or when I see a commercial I know she would hate.
Or when I watch a TV show we used to watch together.
Or when......
You get the idea.
My mom was my person. She was the one person who completely got me. An unspoken comfort.
Safe. So safe.
It is so hard to put into words the emptiness I feel, and even though time is marching on, some days I feel like the grief is still so raw. I came here to blog, but find myself completely stuck to accurately put down in words how I feel.
I just miss her.
Thursday, March 13, 2014
BitterSweet Spring
Spring in the Northland is always so anticipated and welcomed. This year is no exception. After months of one of the coldest and snowiest winters on record, Spring is slowly approaching with signs of renewal and rebirth. Longer, sunnier days are busting their way through the dark gloom of winter lifting the spirits of most everyone.
As the city grows happier and lighter, I can't help but feel a little darker and more sad in some ways. For me, this year, Spring means something a little different.
Its moving forward, yes, but with the biggest void that just seems to grow bigger with each passing day. As nature becomes born again, my mom's lifeless yard will be a constant reminder that she is gone. It will be a summer minus our much treasured evening walks at the park with the dogs....Minus our annual trip for Mother's Day flowers, this year instead being replaced with a scattering of her ashes.
The blanket of a snowy winter was like a band aid over the deep wound of my grief. Somehow covering the sadness, or at least giving me an excuse to hole up in the house. It is not unusual for me to be in my pajamas ready for bed by 6:00 PM (even earlier some days). As the band aid is slowly melting, the expectation to be out in the world is increased. The juxtaposition does not escape me that all of the life surrounding me is a reminder of death.
Its been 5 months today. Five months. Some days it feels like yesterday, and others feels like 10 years. My sadness ebbs and flows, sometimes just sneaking up on me without warning. The positive days are beginning to outweigh the negative now, and part of me is simply not ready to be done grieving. I want to miss her and to cry for her. And to remember her. I want to feel excited again. To feel hopeful again.
I'm confident I will get there.
In time.
As the city grows happier and lighter, I can't help but feel a little darker and more sad in some ways. For me, this year, Spring means something a little different.
Its moving forward, yes, but with the biggest void that just seems to grow bigger with each passing day. As nature becomes born again, my mom's lifeless yard will be a constant reminder that she is gone. It will be a summer minus our much treasured evening walks at the park with the dogs....Minus our annual trip for Mother's Day flowers, this year instead being replaced with a scattering of her ashes.
The blanket of a snowy winter was like a band aid over the deep wound of my grief. Somehow covering the sadness, or at least giving me an excuse to hole up in the house. It is not unusual for me to be in my pajamas ready for bed by 6:00 PM (even earlier some days). As the band aid is slowly melting, the expectation to be out in the world is increased. The juxtaposition does not escape me that all of the life surrounding me is a reminder of death.
Its been 5 months today. Five months. Some days it feels like yesterday, and others feels like 10 years. My sadness ebbs and flows, sometimes just sneaking up on me without warning. The positive days are beginning to outweigh the negative now, and part of me is simply not ready to be done grieving. I want to miss her and to cry for her. And to remember her. I want to feel excited again. To feel hopeful again.
I'm confident I will get there.
In time.
Thursday, February 28, 2013
Getting My Ski On
January and February can be a funky time in these parts, especially if there is no snow in which to have fun. The dead of winter. Dark, grey days can create dark, grey spirits. Knowing all too well the heaviness of this time of year in the Northland, I took some days off work so that I can have some FUN and lift the heaviness that has fallen on my soul yet again.
Finally we have a winter that has substantial snow suitable for snowshoeing and skiing. During these 6 days off, I am embracing Every. Single. Moment. Perfect weather, and fun friends, has made for some of the best skiing I have had in years. The other night, I skied under the light of the full moon and had one of the best laughs I have had in a very long time.
Some days have been super ski days with skiing in the morning AND the afternoon. I feel like I need to get all my skiing in during these 6 days because once I head back to work, its no turning back. I will be working 12 shifts in 11 days. Just thinking about that makes me tired.....
BUT for THIS week, I am enjoying quality time with nature.
Snowshoeing with the dogs is always great fun. They roll around in the snow collecting snowballs.......
Or becoming one.........
Before too long, skiing and snowshoeing season will be over and we will morph into ucky mucky spring, but I intend to take advantage of this glorious snow that has been absent the past few years. Lots of good skiing can still be had; its only March!
And just as easily as it sneaks in, the darkness lifts and once again I can think a little straighter, breathe a little lighter, and laugh a little easier.
Finally we have a winter that has substantial snow suitable for snowshoeing and skiing. During these 6 days off, I am embracing Every. Single. Moment. Perfect weather, and fun friends, has made for some of the best skiing I have had in years. The other night, I skied under the light of the full moon and had one of the best laughs I have had in a very long time.
Some days have been super ski days with skiing in the morning AND the afternoon. I feel like I need to get all my skiing in during these 6 days because once I head back to work, its no turning back. I will be working 12 shifts in 11 days. Just thinking about that makes me tired.....
BUT for THIS week, I am enjoying quality time with nature.
Snowshoeing with the dogs is always great fun. They roll around in the snow collecting snowballs.......
Or becoming one.........
Before too long, skiing and snowshoeing season will be over and we will morph into ucky mucky spring, but I intend to take advantage of this glorious snow that has been absent the past few years. Lots of good skiing can still be had; its only March!
And just as easily as it sneaks in, the darkness lifts and once again I can think a little straighter, breathe a little lighter, and laugh a little easier.
Thursday, July 28, 2011
Learning to Trust
Until recently, I never understood it when I heard people say, "God spoke to me" or "God told me.....". On an emotional night a few weeks ago, I turned to my journal as a means to sort out my emotions and thoughts on the world. This particular night, I was journaling and praying. I'm not a super religious person, but I do consider myself quite spiritual. I have had one way conversations with God, and I do pray and count my blessings most every night.
After I was done journaling on this evening, I revisited some old journal entries which sometimes brings about a greater understanding of what I am experiencing at the moment. I came across an entry from February of 2010. I was reflecting on the past year (2009) and I wrote:
After I was done journaling on this evening, I revisited some old journal entries which sometimes brings about a greater understanding of what I am experiencing at the moment. I came across an entry from February of 2010. I was reflecting on the past year (2009) and I wrote:
"2009 was the year I learned to trust.....Trust in life, trust in God."
Upon reading this, I immediately felt a sense of peace that what I was fretting over was going to be OK. With this new found sense of contentment, I wiped away my tears, smiled, and surrendered to sleep.
It was a pretty profound moment which resurfaced with me today. And then I understood. God spoke to me. For the first time, He spoke to me. Or rather, for the first time, I heard Him. He spoke to me, through my own words, and reminded me again to Trust.
Trust.
Such a big word and an even bigger concept.
But a concept I think I understand.
Monday, May 30, 2011
Dreaded Responsibility
I totally should have went to work today, on this, my day off. My day off which also happens to be Memorial Day. Memorial Day which happens to be holiday pay at work (double time and a half!), and which also happens to be crappy weather. Rainy, foggy, cold, and windy. Work called me on two occasions to go into work today and I avoided their phone calls both times despite the fact that I was on the call-in list.
Instead, I went to bed last night at 9 PM and woke up this morning after 9 AM. Actually I awoke much earlier, but once I heard the thunder, saw the wind and rain, I snuggled up more snugly in my bed and went back to sleep until I don't know when. I used to be a morning person, but lately, I am becoming more of a later morning person.
Once I awoke, that is, once I physically got out of bed, I ventured into the living room and turned on the TV where I sat for another few hours. Snuggled in with my bathrobe and pink blankie. Old movies from the 80's prove to be the perfect rainy day past time.
After I actually combed my hair and got dressed, (and by "dressed" I mean in a sweatshirt and sweatpants. Putting on a bra was questionable, but on it went), I drove to my mom's where I ate a nice Memorial Day lunch and beat her in 3 out of 4 games of Scrabble.
All the while with visions of dollar signs
going
down
the drain
inside my head.
All the while with guilty feelings as the "not-doing-anything-on-my-day-off" syndrome kicks in.
All the while dreading returning to work tomorrow.
Still, laying in bed listening to the thunder and rain with Tino snuggled up underneath the covers is worth every down the drain dollar sign. In fact, I loved it so much, I wish that I could do it again tomorrow. Enter that big adult word of Responsibility. Already this year I have used up more sick days than in my entire 13 year career at this job. And its not even June. So calling in is kind of out of the question as I would just sit home, do nothing, and worry about having called in. So in to work I will go.
Sometimes I hate responsibility.
Instead, I went to bed last night at 9 PM and woke up this morning after 9 AM. Actually I awoke much earlier, but once I heard the thunder, saw the wind and rain, I snuggled up more snugly in my bed and went back to sleep until I don't know when. I used to be a morning person, but lately, I am becoming more of a later morning person.
Once I awoke, that is, once I physically got out of bed, I ventured into the living room and turned on the TV where I sat for another few hours. Snuggled in with my bathrobe and pink blankie. Old movies from the 80's prove to be the perfect rainy day past time.
After I actually combed my hair and got dressed, (and by "dressed" I mean in a sweatshirt and sweatpants. Putting on a bra was questionable, but on it went), I drove to my mom's where I ate a nice Memorial Day lunch and beat her in 3 out of 4 games of Scrabble.
All the while with visions of dollar signs
going
down
the drain
inside my head.
All the while with guilty feelings as the "not-doing-anything-on-my-day-off" syndrome kicks in.
All the while dreading returning to work tomorrow.
Still, laying in bed listening to the thunder and rain with Tino snuggled up underneath the covers is worth every down the drain dollar sign. In fact, I loved it so much, I wish that I could do it again tomorrow. Enter that big adult word of Responsibility. Already this year I have used up more sick days than in my entire 13 year career at this job. And its not even June. So calling in is kind of out of the question as I would just sit home, do nothing, and worry about having called in. So in to work I will go.
Sometimes I hate responsibility.
Tuesday, March 29, 2011
Freud
Most cars are referred to as girls and are often given girl names like "Sally". My car happens to be a male whose name is "Freud". Not "Sigmund", just "Freud". The connotation is clear; Freud is my therapist. With Freud, I am allowed to have free reign. I am that weird person at the stop sign with the radio blaring, singing at the top of my lungs. More than that though, Freud allows me to scream without having nosy neighbors overhear me and without scaring the cats. He allows me to cry without interruption and without guilt (mostly). It is with Freud whom I intend to relocate to the grand state of Nebraska. A solo drive allows for some deep reflection, and with this, sometimes things become a little clearer.
The best part about Freud is the therapy sessions that occur with another passenger. Long road trips can be the ultimate therapy session, free from everyday distractions with no escaping the confines of the vehicle. You are trapped; they are trapped. Both are forced to talk and forced to listen. Commonalities, solutions, and a sense of inner peace can be the result at the end of a good road trip. Oh, don't forget the fun and laughter too! Freud is great for bringing out the fun.
Oh! I now remember a fun story that happened when I was just learning to drive. The best thing in the world was (and still is, if gas wasn't so damn expensive) to just toole around with friends in the car going nowhere in particular. On this night, my friend and I decided to take a detour though a cemetery. It's nearly midnight. We're sixteen. Its winter. And we have seen just about every scary movie ever made. There is quite a bit of snow on the ground and we pull into the unplowed cemetery just for fun. Yeah, we got stuck. In front of us was a towering gray tombstone. Actually we were surrounded by tombstones. She wanted me to get out of the car to push her out, but I was vying for running to the nearest house, banging on their door and begging for help. Through our nervous laughter, we were scared. Scared of the zombies that were sure to emerge from the graves like Michael Jackson's Thriller. Just about the time the zombies started to awaken, the car spontaneously broke free from the snowy grip. We were a little shaken up, but we were free at last. We escaped unscathed and never did we take another detour through a cemetery.
Be it fun jaunts, therapeutic road trips with buds, or solo reflective moments, Freud has been one of my best therapists. With gas prices, his rates are not cheap, but somehow its worth it.
The best part about Freud is the therapy sessions that occur with another passenger. Long road trips can be the ultimate therapy session, free from everyday distractions with no escaping the confines of the vehicle. You are trapped; they are trapped. Both are forced to talk and forced to listen. Commonalities, solutions, and a sense of inner peace can be the result at the end of a good road trip. Oh, don't forget the fun and laughter too! Freud is great for bringing out the fun.
Oh! I now remember a fun story that happened when I was just learning to drive. The best thing in the world was (and still is, if gas wasn't so damn expensive) to just toole around with friends in the car going nowhere in particular. On this night, my friend and I decided to take a detour though a cemetery. It's nearly midnight. We're sixteen. Its winter. And we have seen just about every scary movie ever made. There is quite a bit of snow on the ground and we pull into the unplowed cemetery just for fun. Yeah, we got stuck. In front of us was a towering gray tombstone. Actually we were surrounded by tombstones. She wanted me to get out of the car to push her out, but I was vying for running to the nearest house, banging on their door and begging for help. Through our nervous laughter, we were scared. Scared of the zombies that were sure to emerge from the graves like Michael Jackson's Thriller. Just about the time the zombies started to awaken, the car spontaneously broke free from the snowy grip. We were a little shaken up, but we were free at last. We escaped unscathed and never did we take another detour through a cemetery.
Be it fun jaunts, therapeutic road trips with buds, or solo reflective moments, Freud has been one of my best therapists. With gas prices, his rates are not cheap, but somehow its worth it.
Friday, February 11, 2011
Because I Can
For the past 3 days, I have spent most of my time in my pajamas. Its been nice being off work, and since its a mild deep freeze, I have just hunkered down at home. That means I have spent considerably more time in my comfy jammie clothes than I have in my uncomfy street clothes. Never before in my life have I spent this much time in my pjs and it feels good! Its been so relaxing having an afternoon bubble bath followed up by wrapping in my blanket with sleeves. That's right, a snuggie, ya'll. The reason I do this is simple. Its the same reason a dog licks itself. Because I Can.
Tuesday, November 9, 2010
Ugh-A-Mugh-A
About twice or thrice a year, I need an emotional cleansing. I probably need it more than that, but that is about how frequently they arrive.
Tonight is the tip of an emotional breakdown. It hasn't reached its full potential, and I'm hoping to catch it and release it before it reaches the uncontrollable stage. Sometimes the emotional release is helpful, cleansing, and a good release; however, it isn't very productive so I thought I'd try blogging. Not sure how productive this is either, but at least it keeps my hands busy and my mind thinking about something other than what is.
The catalyst happens to be, and always is, work related. Frustrated, burnt out, frayed, and did I mention frustrated? Its a rough bunch of kiddos right now. Kiddos who are pushing all my buttons and testing all my limits. Coworkers who have checked out leaving me to do the brunt of it all. Suggestions being unheard. Overworked bosses not able to listen. Solutions going by the wayside.
The kicker is that I don't even have to be working right now. These are my fucking days off. I happen to have picked up (in advance) extra shifts for my coworker who is in paradise. While she basks in the warmth and sun of Puerto Rico, I burn in the heat and flames of Hell. Tomorrow I get Hell times two. A pre-scheduled double. Lucky me. Not sure if I can emotionally do it, but like the little engine that could, I tell myself, "I think I can; I think I can; I think I can". And I will.
Underneath the tears that flow tonight is more than just work. Its the emotion I feel for Missy. Poor Missy. Earlier this month, she tore her ACL ligament in her knee resulting in a 3 legged dog. She is unable to go for walks and looks at me pleadingly when I take Tiki for her walks. She doesn't understand, but somehow I think she does. She gets it. She's in pain and needs to rest her injured leg. Hopefully it will stabilize itself within 6 weeks leaving her to suffer with an arthritic knee for the remainder of her life. The other option is surgery. Expensive surgery: $2500. For now, its just wait and see....and pray. My heart is heavy.
Couple that with finding an ambulance and firetruck at my Aunt's house this afternoon. She is fine and will be fine. Just some extreme abdominal pain that she described worse than childbirth. Thankfully it was without incident. This time. But the time is coming.
Hence an emotional night.
On a positive note, I got an electric mattress pad. It makes crawling into bed quite inviting and enjoyable. Can't wait to snuggle in tonight with thoughts of a peaceful 16 hour day tomorrow, a healed puppy, and a healthy family.
Tonight is the tip of an emotional breakdown. It hasn't reached its full potential, and I'm hoping to catch it and release it before it reaches the uncontrollable stage. Sometimes the emotional release is helpful, cleansing, and a good release; however, it isn't very productive so I thought I'd try blogging. Not sure how productive this is either, but at least it keeps my hands busy and my mind thinking about something other than what is.
The catalyst happens to be, and always is, work related. Frustrated, burnt out, frayed, and did I mention frustrated? Its a rough bunch of kiddos right now. Kiddos who are pushing all my buttons and testing all my limits. Coworkers who have checked out leaving me to do the brunt of it all. Suggestions being unheard. Overworked bosses not able to listen. Solutions going by the wayside.
The kicker is that I don't even have to be working right now. These are my fucking days off. I happen to have picked up (in advance) extra shifts for my coworker who is in paradise. While she basks in the warmth and sun of Puerto Rico, I burn in the heat and flames of Hell. Tomorrow I get Hell times two. A pre-scheduled double. Lucky me. Not sure if I can emotionally do it, but like the little engine that could, I tell myself, "I think I can; I think I can; I think I can". And I will.
Underneath the tears that flow tonight is more than just work. Its the emotion I feel for Missy. Poor Missy. Earlier this month, she tore her ACL ligament in her knee resulting in a 3 legged dog. She is unable to go for walks and looks at me pleadingly when I take Tiki for her walks. She doesn't understand, but somehow I think she does. She gets it. She's in pain and needs to rest her injured leg. Hopefully it will stabilize itself within 6 weeks leaving her to suffer with an arthritic knee for the remainder of her life. The other option is surgery. Expensive surgery: $2500. For now, its just wait and see....and pray. My heart is heavy.
Couple that with finding an ambulance and firetruck at my Aunt's house this afternoon. She is fine and will be fine. Just some extreme abdominal pain that she described worse than childbirth. Thankfully it was without incident. This time. But the time is coming.
Hence an emotional night.
On a positive note, I got an electric mattress pad. It makes crawling into bed quite inviting and enjoyable. Can't wait to snuggle in tonight with thoughts of a peaceful 16 hour day tomorrow, a healed puppy, and a healthy family.
Wednesday, October 6, 2010
Birthday Blahs
Every year I Hate it more and more. And I just don't hate it, I Hate it. With a Capital H. Hate. Its still a bit more than a month away, but I am already dreading my Birthday.
I am trying to remember when it all started, when this sour taste entered my mouth when I uttered the words "my Birthday". I can't quite put my finger on it, but am thinking it was probably when I turned 26.
Age 25 is the final exciting Birthday. Its the Birthday when, in my opinion (and the opinion of a Bingo fanatic coworker), a person reaches full adulthood. Coincidentally, it is also the Birthday that your car insurance decreases provided you don't have preexisting DUIs, speeding tickets and the like. So after 25, there is nothing more to look forward to. What good comes from the other "milestone" Birthdays other than to say you have been alive that long?
This year, like most people on their Birthday, I will be turning another year older. No Milestone to reach, no excitement, just....older.
For me, my Birthday not only signifies me getting older, but it is also a reminder that those around me are also aging. And that scares the hell out of me which is why I hate my Birthday. Each year I try to remind myself to be thankful that I am fortunate enough to actually experience another Birthday, and I do. I really do. But in the back of my head, a voice lingers. A voice of impending doom.
Most people who have children, look to the future and see mostly happy occasions and good times. They can imagine their child's graduation, marriage, grand babies, you name it. Not that children are the be-all-and-end-all of happiness (In fact, I don't think they are at all), but when I look to my future, I see mostly hardship. Death is part of life, and it is going to be a large part of my future. Only I won't have the positive, exciting experiences to offset those hard times.
After turning 26, I came up with a grand plan. When I reached the magical age of 29, I would start aging backwards...sort of like Benjamin Button. In a weird twist of fate, I would not be able to age below 25. For eternity I will be between the ages of 25-29. Too bad the whole world can't age that same way.
So next month, by my magical calculations, I will be turning 28. The only flaw in this whole scheme is that I will never look good for my age.
I am trying to remember when it all started, when this sour taste entered my mouth when I uttered the words "my Birthday". I can't quite put my finger on it, but am thinking it was probably when I turned 26.
Age 25 is the final exciting Birthday. Its the Birthday when, in my opinion (and the opinion of a Bingo fanatic coworker), a person reaches full adulthood. Coincidentally, it is also the Birthday that your car insurance decreases provided you don't have preexisting DUIs, speeding tickets and the like. So after 25, there is nothing more to look forward to. What good comes from the other "milestone" Birthdays other than to say you have been alive that long?
This year, like most people on their Birthday, I will be turning another year older. No Milestone to reach, no excitement, just....older.
For me, my Birthday not only signifies me getting older, but it is also a reminder that those around me are also aging. And that scares the hell out of me which is why I hate my Birthday. Each year I try to remind myself to be thankful that I am fortunate enough to actually experience another Birthday, and I do. I really do. But in the back of my head, a voice lingers. A voice of impending doom.
Most people who have children, look to the future and see mostly happy occasions and good times. They can imagine their child's graduation, marriage, grand babies, you name it. Not that children are the be-all-and-end-all of happiness (In fact, I don't think they are at all), but when I look to my future, I see mostly hardship. Death is part of life, and it is going to be a large part of my future. Only I won't have the positive, exciting experiences to offset those hard times.
After turning 26, I came up with a grand plan. When I reached the magical age of 29, I would start aging backwards...sort of like Benjamin Button. In a weird twist of fate, I would not be able to age below 25. For eternity I will be between the ages of 25-29. Too bad the whole world can't age that same way.
So next month, by my magical calculations, I will be turning 28. The only flaw in this whole scheme is that I will never look good for my age.
Tuesday, September 14, 2010
. . . .And Then There Were Three
She wasn't even gone yet, and already I was acting as though she was. Last night on this blog, I deleted her picture and changed some headings to reflect "3" instead of "4". It will be weird to answer "Three" to the question "how many cats do you have?" Punkin has been with me for exactly 18 years. Her entire life; half of my entire life. She is the longest relationship I have ever had aside from my immediate family.
The decision to put an animal to sleep is heart wrenching and guilt provoking. How do you know when the time is right? The answer to that is: You just know. The difficult factor with Punkin is that she wasn't in pain. Or at least she didn't seem to be in pain. But she was sick. Sick with a hyperthyroid which medication did not seem to help. And she was messing in the house. Vomit, urine, and more vomit. One day, there were 7 different piles. And her back legs were about giving in. And she was deaf. But she was happy. Just last night she sat on my lap purring away while I silently said goodbye with several kisses. Goodbye. The most difficult word in the English language for me to say.
All day long, I held it together pretty good. I arranged for a dear friend to take Punky in for me. I couldn't do it myself, and I figured her loss would be torture enough. Why torture myself further. Another dear friend distracted me with a trip to Gooseberry Falls which is where I will now think of Punky's resting place since I declined to have any other reminders or keepsakes other than my own photos and memories.
Leaving my house to go to Gooseberry was difficult for I knew that once I left my house, I would not see her ever again. I left without saying the "G" word. Without anything. I said what I needed to say last night and throughout her entire life. I fed her her last meal which was Super Supper 9 Lives. I hope she was happy with that choice. So I left. I waited in the car while Kara came in to say her goodbyes and we went on our merry way.
She was on my mind all day, but Gooseberry was a lovely distraction. A purrfect distraction you might say. Beautiful and Gorgeous. Perfect in all other sense of the word.
I kept it together quite well. Came home. Called my mom and informed her. Pulled myself together and took the dogs for a hike. Now that I am home, not having to put on a front, reality is setting in. Nobody to see the rest of the day so tears are flowing freely as I clean out her food dishes, rinse out her litter box, and blog. But blog I must for I need to release it somehow.
Few people know because it hurts too much to tell anyone. Sympathetic How Are Yous or I'm Sorries will put me into uncontrollable sobs at this point so people must not know quite yet. Not until I can tell them without bursting into an ugly cry. For all 3 of you who may or may not read this, please respect that for me at this time. I don't need hugs or how are yous or cards or anything nor do I want them. Life as usual. I know you all care; I know what you want to say; I know you are sorry. And thank you for all of that. I feel your love and your sympathy.
Whenever I see a warm patch of sunlight, I will be reminded of Punky's love shining down on me and she will remain in a corner of my heart forever. I love you and miss you deeply.
The decision to put an animal to sleep is heart wrenching and guilt provoking. How do you know when the time is right? The answer to that is: You just know. The difficult factor with Punkin is that she wasn't in pain. Or at least she didn't seem to be in pain. But she was sick. Sick with a hyperthyroid which medication did not seem to help. And she was messing in the house. Vomit, urine, and more vomit. One day, there were 7 different piles. And her back legs were about giving in. And she was deaf. But she was happy. Just last night she sat on my lap purring away while I silently said goodbye with several kisses. Goodbye. The most difficult word in the English language for me to say.
All day long, I held it together pretty good. I arranged for a dear friend to take Punky in for me. I couldn't do it myself, and I figured her loss would be torture enough. Why torture myself further. Another dear friend distracted me with a trip to Gooseberry Falls which is where I will now think of Punky's resting place since I declined to have any other reminders or keepsakes other than my own photos and memories.
Leaving my house to go to Gooseberry was difficult for I knew that once I left my house, I would not see her ever again. I left without saying the "G" word. Without anything. I said what I needed to say last night and throughout her entire life. I fed her her last meal which was Super Supper 9 Lives. I hope she was happy with that choice. So I left. I waited in the car while Kara came in to say her goodbyes and we went on our merry way.
She was on my mind all day, but Gooseberry was a lovely distraction. A purrfect distraction you might say. Beautiful and Gorgeous. Perfect in all other sense of the word.
I kept it together quite well. Came home. Called my mom and informed her. Pulled myself together and took the dogs for a hike. Now that I am home, not having to put on a front, reality is setting in. Nobody to see the rest of the day so tears are flowing freely as I clean out her food dishes, rinse out her litter box, and blog. But blog I must for I need to release it somehow.
Few people know because it hurts too much to tell anyone. Sympathetic How Are Yous or I'm Sorries will put me into uncontrollable sobs at this point so people must not know quite yet. Not until I can tell them without bursting into an ugly cry. For all 3 of you who may or may not read this, please respect that for me at this time. I don't need hugs or how are yous or cards or anything nor do I want them. Life as usual. I know you all care; I know what you want to say; I know you are sorry. And thank you for all of that. I feel your love and your sympathy.
Whenever I see a warm patch of sunlight, I will be reminded of Punky's love shining down on me and she will remain in a corner of my heart forever. I love you and miss you deeply.
Saturday, June 12, 2010
Crushed Dreams and Independence
Not to be a Debbie Downer here, but I just need to blog about my emptiness just for a moment. Its a rare vacancy these days because I have come to embrace my Childless/Single Woman Status. Most days I stand tall and proud and brag about how great I have it. However, lately I have had just a few fleeting pangs of "I want that".
For starters, I got a phone call from my good friend who just gave birth to baby number 5! Yes, five. And that is not all; her oldest child is 5. That is 5 single births in 5 years. No thank you. But to be able to hold one little bundle in my arms, and to be able to call him/her my own would be magical.
Looking at pictures or hearing about my friends who are having play dates reminds me of what I am missing out. I am often absent from this scene as I don't quite fit in anymore. We have less in common now. They talk about their kids and families. I talk about my cats and my job.
Then, the worst possible thing happens. I become the babysitter. Just another reminder that I don't quite fit in. I get to watch their kids while they go have fun with their friends. Never did I imagine I would be a 30-something babysitter.
Which is exactly what I am doing right now.
Babysitting often awakens one of two emotions in me: 1). I am so glad I can never have kids/I would never be able to do it OR 2). I am so sad I can never have kids/I want it more than anything. Tonight these little cherubs were happy, affectionate, and wonderful so the latter emotion is evoked tonight. I look around at the house filled with toys and life, and realize that my house will forever be filled with just cat hair.
But when I am able to get my uninterrupted sleep tonight, wake up and do whatever the hell I want tomorrow, and not have to answer to anyone or anything, those feelings will quickly subside. My yearnings to have children are less and less with each passing year, but once in a great while they sneak up on me and remind me of something I will never have.
For starters, I got a phone call from my good friend who just gave birth to baby number 5! Yes, five. And that is not all; her oldest child is 5. That is 5 single births in 5 years. No thank you. But to be able to hold one little bundle in my arms, and to be able to call him/her my own would be magical.
Looking at pictures or hearing about my friends who are having play dates reminds me of what I am missing out. I am often absent from this scene as I don't quite fit in anymore. We have less in common now. They talk about their kids and families. I talk about my cats and my job.
Then, the worst possible thing happens. I become the babysitter. Just another reminder that I don't quite fit in. I get to watch their kids while they go have fun with their friends. Never did I imagine I would be a 30-something babysitter.
Which is exactly what I am doing right now.
Babysitting often awakens one of two emotions in me: 1). I am so glad I can never have kids/I would never be able to do it OR 2). I am so sad I can never have kids/I want it more than anything. Tonight these little cherubs were happy, affectionate, and wonderful so the latter emotion is evoked tonight. I look around at the house filled with toys and life, and realize that my house will forever be filled with just cat hair.
But when I am able to get my uninterrupted sleep tonight, wake up and do whatever the hell I want tomorrow, and not have to answer to anyone or anything, those feelings will quickly subside. My yearnings to have children are less and less with each passing year, but once in a great while they sneak up on me and remind me of something I will never have.
Wednesday, June 9, 2010
Utopia
In my world there exists no massive oil leak in the ocean causing devastation to the creatures that rely on the ocean for their existence. In my world, there is no water or air pollution. No hurricanes, tornadoes or tsunamis that displace thousands of unsuspecting people. There exists no war where thousands of soldiers have lost their lives and innocent civilians have perished. And the Twin Towers still stand tall and mighty. In my world there exists no child abuse or domestic abuse or animal cruelty. Only loving families who strive for only the very best. In my world, there exists no cancer or disease or death. In my world, lost children are reunited with their intact families (because divorce also does not exist). In my world, depression, autism and mental illness do not paralyze the inhabitants. Homelessness and poverty are not present. There is not even a name for rape, torture or homicide. People are happy. There is peace and beauty and harmony. Forests and lakes are vast and pure.
This is my own private Paradise that is necessary for me to create from time to time, otherwise I go crazy thinking of reality. Its a tough world in which we live, and its easy to concentrate on all the devastation. Its so important to keep a personal Utopia to retreat to once in a while. For tonight, that is where I am.
This is my own private Paradise that is necessary for me to create from time to time, otherwise I go crazy thinking of reality. Its a tough world in which we live, and its easy to concentrate on all the devastation. Its so important to keep a personal Utopia to retreat to once in a while. For tonight, that is where I am.
Monday, April 19, 2010
Failed Tomorrows
Every single day for me is yet another failed tomorrow. Each night when I go to bed, I tell myself my goal for the next day. It all started with that eye opening photograph of myself. After I saw those pictures, I was amazed that I didn't even look like myself. My face was filled out. My hips and tummy were wide. My butt gigantic. Sounds self defeating, but it was very weird to see those pictures and not even recognize the image I saw in the photo. I needed to do something and I would start.....tomorrow. "Tomorrow I will eat better. Tomorrow I will start to exercise more. Tomorrow....." For me, tomorrow never comes. Last night I had a grand plan. One I won't go into boring details here, but it was going to work alright. This time, this plan would be fool proof. But I have proved to be the fool once again.
I actually did very good until about 1:00 this afternoon. My self control was first tested when a coworker brought cookies to work. Oh, I did have one, but only one. I consciously decided I didn't like it very much and had no desire for a second, third or fourth. It was tested a second time when another coworker brought a box of chocolates to work. My goal was to not eat one. They sat staring at me, calling my name. I resisted and then proceeded to pat myself on the back.
Then I caved when a coworker offered me a scone at the end of a very hectic, unenjoyable day. The little thought went through my head, "don't do it.....don't do it..." But I did. I don't even like scones!! It was a HUGE scone at that. . . and I ate the whole thing. Its not all bad, though, because I did show SOME restraint in choosing the raspberry scone over the chocolate chip scone.
People talk about "mindful eating"; I even sat in on an hour long class on mindful eating once a month for several months. It is something I actually practice; though you wouldn't know it. For Example when that scone was offered to me, I mindfully said, "no, you don't even like scones. You don't need the scone. You just finished lunch and you're not even hungry". I took the scone anyway. Not only did I take it, but I ravenously ate the whole damn thing. With each bite, I mindfully told myself "This is not that tasty. Its a challenge to eat because you are so full. Don't eat anymore". Yet I continued to mindfully eat the rest of that scone. Ugh.
Tomorrow I'd like to try again. One of these days my tomorrow may actually happen.
I did accomplish one goal today, though, I never did eat a piece of that chocolate.
I actually did very good until about 1:00 this afternoon. My self control was first tested when a coworker brought cookies to work. Oh, I did have one, but only one. I consciously decided I didn't like it very much and had no desire for a second, third or fourth. It was tested a second time when another coworker brought a box of chocolates to work. My goal was to not eat one. They sat staring at me, calling my name. I resisted and then proceeded to pat myself on the back.
Then I caved when a coworker offered me a scone at the end of a very hectic, unenjoyable day. The little thought went through my head, "don't do it.....don't do it..." But I did. I don't even like scones!! It was a HUGE scone at that. . . and I ate the whole thing. Its not all bad, though, because I did show SOME restraint in choosing the raspberry scone over the chocolate chip scone.
People talk about "mindful eating"; I even sat in on an hour long class on mindful eating once a month for several months. It is something I actually practice; though you wouldn't know it. For Example when that scone was offered to me, I mindfully said, "no, you don't even like scones. You don't need the scone. You just finished lunch and you're not even hungry". I took the scone anyway. Not only did I take it, but I ravenously ate the whole damn thing. With each bite, I mindfully told myself "This is not that tasty. Its a challenge to eat because you are so full. Don't eat anymore". Yet I continued to mindfully eat the rest of that scone. Ugh.
Tomorrow I'd like to try again. One of these days my tomorrow may actually happen.
I did accomplish one goal today, though, I never did eat a piece of that chocolate.
Tuesday, March 30, 2010
It Occured to Me....
I woke today with a massive headache, swallowed some Ibuprofen and took a warm bath. Afterwards, I felt a wee bit nauseous and laid down in bed for another hour and this thought occurs to me. What if I die? I wasn't in that much pain or anything, but it was just a random thought. Being I live alone, I worry that there could come a time when I just suddenly kick the bucket and lay rotting in my house for days or even weeks.
Who would know that I was dead as a door nail in my house (what IS a door nail anyway)? The only REAL sign would be when I don't show up for my scheduled work shift for maybe the second time. Then somebody might get concerned and try knocking on my door or calling my family members.
So here are some clues that I may just be a rotting pile of flesh in my house.
1. I don't answer OR RETURN phone calls. Its pretty safe to say that after 3 days, if I don't return a phone call, there could be a grim reaper present.
2. Absence on FacebookI check my facebook daily even when I am working doubles so I should have some activity definitely within 3 days.
3. Strong Odor around my house.I'm pretty good at keeping the litter boxes pretty clean so any odor that is emitting from my little house, is probably a decaying body. You have my permission to kick the door in.
4. Hungry Cats.If when you kick in the door, the cats look emaciated and are very hungry, I'm probably dead. On second thought, I have heard it said that a starving cat will eat their dead owners. They may not be starving, but they will certainly be sad...and probably feel guilty.
5. No call/No show. When I don't call into work,don't show for a shift, AND you can't get a hold of me, is the definite sign that I am dead.
So if any of the above ever happens, come check on me.
Who would know that I was dead as a door nail in my house (what IS a door nail anyway)? The only REAL sign would be when I don't show up for my scheduled work shift for maybe the second time. Then somebody might get concerned and try knocking on my door or calling my family members.
So here are some clues that I may just be a rotting pile of flesh in my house.
1. I don't answer OR RETURN phone calls. Its pretty safe to say that after 3 days, if I don't return a phone call, there could be a grim reaper present.
2. Absence on FacebookI check my facebook daily even when I am working doubles so I should have some activity definitely within 3 days.
3. Strong Odor around my house.I'm pretty good at keeping the litter boxes pretty clean so any odor that is emitting from my little house, is probably a decaying body. You have my permission to kick the door in.
4. Hungry Cats.If when you kick in the door, the cats look emaciated and are very hungry, I'm probably dead. On second thought, I have heard it said that a starving cat will eat their dead owners. They may not be starving, but they will certainly be sad...and probably feel guilty.
5. No call/No show. When I don't call into work,don't show for a shift, AND you can't get a hold of me, is the definite sign that I am dead.
So if any of the above ever happens, come check on me.
Monday, March 29, 2010
Going to Nebraska?
When I feel like disappearing and running away from whatever I want to avoid, I dream of running away to Nebraska. Why Nebraska? Well, because who on God's Green Earth will think to look for me in Nebraska? Its unknown. There is not a movie titled "Sleepless in Nebraska". There is not a national slogan that says "I heart Nebraska". Whatever happens in Nebraska, probably does not stay in Nebraska and there are no major theme parks or attractions in Nebraska. Does Nebraska even have a professional sports team? I don't know. But I do know there are no famous Nebraska Potatoes or Nebraska Oranges and things are not bigger in Nebraska. So that is where I will go. Someday.
My best defense is avoidance. And I do it very well I might add. There are those days or weeks when I just want to disappear and leave everything in the dust. Poof. Leave no trace of where I am or where I am going. I have dreams of packing up and starting all over somewhere completely new and reinventing myself. Into what I don't know because I am who I am, and I kinda like it that way. Even in Nebraska, I think I'd still be me. You can't change what is at your core, and I don't want to anyway. Besides, I love my life here. I have the best friends any one person could ever hope for. My dysfunctional family is full of love and, when it really matters, we're there for one another.
Still, Nebraska calls my name from time to time.
My best defense is avoidance. And I do it very well I might add. There are those days or weeks when I just want to disappear and leave everything in the dust. Poof. Leave no trace of where I am or where I am going. I have dreams of packing up and starting all over somewhere completely new and reinventing myself. Into what I don't know because I am who I am, and I kinda like it that way. Even in Nebraska, I think I'd still be me. You can't change what is at your core, and I don't want to anyway. Besides, I love my life here. I have the best friends any one person could ever hope for. My dysfunctional family is full of love and, when it really matters, we're there for one another.
Still, Nebraska calls my name from time to time.
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