Doing Something More

I've got a lot on my mind.  Too much to write anything sensible and to stay on topic, so I'm just going to say that being empty nesters is not so bad.  For the first time since I was single, I'm doing some things just because I've always wanted to do them.

I'm actually taking piano lessons and really loving it!  It's been so much fun and brings back the most precious memories of growing up and having family sing-a-longs with my mom playing the piano.  My oldest sister played guitar.  We sang at every family gathering.  We sang even when we were at someone else's place and there was a piano.  I'm moving through the lessons quickly and hoping to be able to play some Christmas Carols by December.

I'm also going to make a job change.  I'm really nervous about that, though.  I'm going to take an online accounting class to refresh and probably learn a few new things, then find a job as a remote bookkeeper.  That way I can stay at home to work and I won't have to stress about a job when we move to Utah in the next few months.  I love what I do now, but since I was sick - despite working my tail off during tax season to prove I can still be a great employee - I'm no longer valued that way.  No, that's not just what I think.  It's what's been said to me, on more than one occasion.  And indicated that my boss wants me to leave.  There is a lot of garbage there I don't want to talk about at this point, but let's just say it's shown me some true colors in someone I'd been warned about but choose not to believe.  I do now.  Meh.

Anyway, I'm reading more and I started a children's book series I'm going to try to finish no later than January.  I'm just desperately trying to carve out the time for keeping up the house, taking the dogs to the dog park or for walks (they totally prefer the park), practicing piano, doing some reading - which is a must when you want to write, it really is - and finding time for other people who need me.  Read husband and daughter (even though she's moved out and working as a live-in nanny, she still needs her mom a lot).

It feels good to have some time to myself.  I'm excited about the move and working from home, too.  It will cut out any commute time and I'll be here for our pets.  Hey, I'm a writer.  I like being home!

The Best Advise I Have Ever Been Given

I honestly had to really think this one through. I've had a lot of good advice, even great advice, over the years.  I even started this post a couple of months ago, but just didn't feel like I could pinpoint what the best advice was going to be.

I started thinking about all the uproar over gender identity and political correctness, the inability to allow for generational gaps in people's verbiage, that my black friends have all "poo-pooed" the idea of being called African Americans and just want to be referred to as black if that distinction is necessary at all. So that led me to what I do believe is the best advice I have ever been given:

You can only be offended if you choose to be offended.

Man, there is so much truth in that.  Since when did we become so sensitive to any wording that is not considered rude or inappropriate on the whole, that generational verbiage could not be allowed. Obviously, I'm not talking about the use of bigoted words or intentionally referring to someone who appears to be female as she or vise versa.  But as in calling someone transgender is apparently unacceptable.  It must be a transgender person or you are offensive.  What?  Grow up or get out!  It's ridiculous that we have allowed Political Correctness to invade us so much that some people fear to speak.  No one - I repeat No One - is going to misunderstand that I refer to someone as a transgender rather than a transgender person.  If you are a human, and transgender's are, you are a person.  What difference does adding "person" to the end of the name make?  None.  Except in a snowflake world with little control freak infants trying to run....correction, ruin.....the world.

Stop looking for things to whine about.  Live your life with kindness, respect for others (which does NOT define itself as catering to ridiculous specifications), tolerance, helpfulness, love.  Just be a good person.        

Life Can Be Busy

At my age, I'd hoped I could settle life down and into a simpler routine.  Not that I'm old, but I am only 4 years away from 60.  Man, that sounds horrifying to me!  LOL.  But I do look back on when my parents were this age and realize, it sort of sucks:

It's hard to grow old gracefully!  But I am starting on the wrong subject here.  This post was meant to be about how crazy it has been for a few weeks now........

My job as an office manager for a CPA has been in flux for a while.  The office has grown from just being my boss and me to seven of us, one of which is a coworker from 20 years ago to my boss and she is a CPA, although she has never done anything with taxes until now.  She came in to become a part-owner of the business.  So, lots of changes over the last seven years.

We were in an office building that we knew was becoming a D rated one, although there was a time when it was at least a B.  The office had been there for nine years.  A new owner took possession and didn't really care to whom he leased.  We ended up with a couple of studios in the building - a rap studio and a film studio.  Then we started smelling marijuana in the halls, elevator, even wafting into our office.  The hookers moved in above us - noticed because some legitimate massage therapists in the building were getting new clients who wanted a bit more, the way the women dressed and, I don't know, maybe the neon light in the window (against the lease but allowed nonetheless).  The real therapists just started sending them up to the third floor.  And next, one of the other tenants caught them having parties, on all of the floors in the hallway.  Everyone made complaints. When we sent an email to the management property, the response was, "Some tenants are not as professional as your office".  WHAT?!?!?!?!  So we had an attorney look at our lease to see how we could get out of the remaining two and a half years.

That's was when the worst thing possible could have happened.  At one of the parties, someone brought a gun and when an argument ensued, one man shot two others.  The first, whom we learned later was named Shawn, staggered down to the parking lot and died.  The second fled about two blocks away, was found in critical condition, and died later at the hospital.  That was the last straw. None of us wanted to be in the building, particularly at night.  But we often are during tax season. We asked to be let out of our lease, as did many other tenants, and we were allowed to do so.  People moved out in droves.

We found a new office, had to have construction done on it for it to fit our needs and began to pack. Five weeks later, we were spending a Saturday moving out of one and into the other. Next was getting settled in comfortably and because we had anticipated moving in earlier, we had already sent out notices about the move and inviting our clients to an open house.  It was a whirlwind of activity for a while there.  But it feels great to be out of the old building and into an A-class office building now.

So, with all this on my plate, I fell behind on blogging.  I put in some long hours with the move, the screw up with Comast that didn't have us hooked up until four days after they were supposed to, and the party.  But, as Beth Ann says, "They're back".....  

What My Heart Knows, My Mind Keeps Rejecting

I've become aware that my daughter is telling lies to at least one friend - about why she came home and possibly a few other items. She said I begged and cried for her to come home and she couldn't say no.  But that's not even close to the truth.  I simply said if she was willing to contract with us for doing her chores (she didn't and she's not), we would "Let" her come home.  But her job as a live-in nanny fell through and she wouldn't extend her current job.  She's not doing as much at home as she did sometimes before and not doing what she said she would, but she is here of her own free will and without tears or begging from me.  Honestly, I only wanted to be sure she was safe but I'd begun to enjoy how much less work I had to do when it was just me.  She also lied about how I felt about her going to Church.  She said I was angry.  But honestly, I long ago stopped worrying about that.  I've done my part in raising her and it is all down to her choice; her free agency.  She's an adult.  She has to fly her own path.

My heart says to put this away and know that she is sicker than we ever knew.  She struggles to love actual blood-related family and considers only her online friends her family.  She says she will have nothing to do with any of her blood-related family.  Some of that is understandable.  One of my brothers is extremely difficult to deal with most of the time and has been very hurtful, particularly to me. I was the last one making an effort with him in the family and even I have given up. My younger sister is a bit out there if you make her mad.  And my family was used to always going off on me, taking it out on me, and that hasn't stopped.  But they are my family.  I just don't deal well with arguing, anger, cruel name-calling and destructive behaviors that most people don't realize you can never take back.  Especially when it doesn't even seem egged on by anything but lack of a reaction to something or, sadly, politics *insert rolling eyes here*.  My semi-sister always sides with and behaves in a manner following my younger sister.  My older sister has passed, so there is no longer that equation.  But my other brother has never been cruel or rude or anything negative to me, my husband or my daughter as adults - yet she includes him, and all of my husband's siblings (most of whom she barely knows) as unworthy of her association.  And says not knowing them well is why they are not family to her.  News flash - you can't change who your family is.  But you can cut them out of your life and that seems to be her thing for now.

I am addressing how to deal with this in therapy.  So far, my therapist is a bit shocked at how much we've done to try to improve things and have it not help.  I'm praying for the strength to deal with this, to rest my heart in that I did the best I could in raising her and cannot help her anymore.  And that people inside of our circle of family, friends and even acquaintances, see that these statements she makes about cruelty and abuse are unfounded.  Quite the opposite in that she's terribly (albeit secretly) verbally abusive to us.

My heart knows I cannot change things.  I am releasing this pain and hurt enough to let her drift away if that is what she chooses.  I believe with all my heart that she will come to realize life is lonely without your family - especially once we are gone from this earth.  I just pray it doesn't take her that long.      

And She's Back

My 20-year-old daughter was gone for about three weeks and came home.  We're working on things. The three of us - she, her dad, and I - sat down and talked.  I mediated because she and her dad had not had a lot of contact at that point and there were very hurt feelings that had not been addressed. But we made leaps and bounds.  We've talked about family counseling, which I've asked her to instigate but she has yet to do so.  I think we still need it.  And I started to see a counselor again.

On my third visit to my counselor, she and I talked about my mediating our family talk and she said, "Wow, you don't really need counseling." But I do.  Not on how to deal with my daughter's difficult emotional state, although I think we'll do some Love Language tests and see if that helps.  I already know my love language is service because I'm forgiving about words, which in the long run, mean nothing.  But I think I do need therapy on how to cope with my physical changes that are permanent from when I got sick. I've buried that at the moment because other things have been more important to address.  But it's there, sitting in the back of my throat, having chipped a chunk out of my heart.  I need to grieve and not have someone tell me, "But you lived."  Yeah, I did, but I lost something important that my life and ability to work is affected by.  And one of my major soothers of my soul has been taken from me for the rest of my life.  So, yeah, there is that.

If you don't follow my blog, don't know me, you aren't aware that I sing.  Correction - I used to sing. Not professionally, by any means. Not even in a choir as an older adult.  But I grew up in a family where there was always music.  My mother played the piano and my older sister played the guitar. Every family get-together was filled with singing - hymns, folk music, Christmas carols, Mom & Dad's favorites from the '40s and '50s.  We sang.  I have.....no, had, a beautiful voice.  I sang in the car, around the house, in the shower, sitting at my computer listening to music, and at church.  This was a stress reliever to me; a soothing sound to my soul.    But I no longer have that ability.  My daughter even said, with tears in her eyes, "You won't be able to sing to my babies like you did to me."  My last specialist confirmed there is nothing that can be done without risking losing my speaking voice, too.  But I need that for my job.

So life moves on, as it must, and we work through the difficult times and pray for better with our best effort given to make it so.    

When She Left

My 20-year-old daughter "ran away from home".  Of course, at 20, you don't run.  You just leave. But she left with a text to say good-bye.  She left with allegations of verbal abuse.  She left.  Just like that.

Her aunt who lived with us for six months this past year and is a social worker by trade assures me she never saw any abuse, verbal or otherwise.  Because I thought, "My God, was I abusive?!?!?"  Her aunt was mostly housebound due to illness and rarely left except to go to doctor appointments.  So it's not like this accusation was based on anything seen by anyone in our lives.  In fact, none of the people who know us well believe her allegations.

My daughter was a desperately wanted, hard-worked-for, long awaiting blessing in our lives; especially in mine.  I  had prayed endlessly for her.  And then a miracle happened and there she was. I worked hard to be a great mom.  She told me all the time that I was.  Her friends who knew us told me that I was.  Approaching the high school for a meeting once, one of her friends yelled, "R's mom!  The best mom in the world!"

My daughter and I laughed, went shopping and on outings, giggled, talked together all the time.  And yes, there were raised voices.  Almost always over chores that she was asked to complete and fought like a dragon not to do.  We, mostly me, asked kindly and sometimes even with a please three, four, or more times in an attempt to get her to do them.  But sometimes, she just would not.  Yes, sometimes she did.  Even once in a while she would surprise me and do them without a word!  But when she wouldn't, there was anger.  When she was no longer a child, and I would say especially in the last year, I would get angry enough to call her a "little shit".  And a few times, a"bitch".  I'm not proud of that.  I feel a great deal of guilt that I allowed my anger to get the best of me at those times. I am willing to generously estimate I said "little shit" a good 6 times, maybe 8.  I estimate I said "bitch" maybe 4 times.  I did say she was being lazy often - because she was.  But then I texted it at the end of begging her to return home rather than go to a shelter.  And that she posted on Facebook.  The time I am out of my mind, terrified, heart-wrenched to my wit's end and I lose it.  That goes on Facebook.

I had to block my clients, family from Iran who would not understand such a disrespectful display in a country where children would not dare to behave in that manner.  I blocked people from our church. I shut down, lost my contacts, ended my socialization outside of work that day and I don't know when I can get it back.

I'm angry about it.  I find it appalling and outlandish behavior.  Had it not been for my writing groups and my high school friends, I would have immediately shut down my Facebook for good.  I am angry she thought it okay to affect my life with her lies in this manner.  And yes, although I just thought I must have been the worst mother ever at first, after speaking to many, many friends who have raised teenagers and experienced the exact same thing - most of them including the names when pushed to their limits - I realized this is not about me.  It's about her.  She needed something to force her to leave home because she had become complacent in her safety here at home.  And most disagreeable to her, she didn't want to move out of state with us when we go for her father's work.

I'd been trying to help.  I understood she didn't want to go.  I get that she easily attaches to things.  I had been helping with job ideas and applications, buying clothes so that would not be a concern, bought her a car before we really could manage it and which was totaled by her two days later, although, in her defense, accidents do happen.  She certainly didn't intend to wreck it.  I reassured her it was okay to grow up, move out.  That's what's supposed to happen. Yes, I would help her.  Yes, I would be here for her.  But yes, I wished she would move to the new state we plan to move to in about a year and it would be so hard not to take her with us.  But yes, I understood.

And all that time, I was making sure she NEVER felt she was being pushed out.  I only did it little by little to not overwhelm her.  But somewhere along the line, she was poisoned by thoughts that were untrue of our interactions and there was no changing her mind.  And there still isn't.  Now she wants to move far enough away that family counseling will not be able to happen.  So she will never believe anything different than what she has set in her mind.  And so I have truly lost my daughter.  My precious, precious child who has been my whole heart for so long I cannot bare its emptiness now.

I wanted to die that night.  Had my husband not called me, I would have.  I'd already taken two of the heart pills that I planned to take slowly, to avoid vomiting them up.  It was the first time I'd felt suicidal since I was a teenager and tried to wreck a car.  Yes, I'm seeking help with a counselor and no, I am no longer suicidal.  But my heart sure is empty.  The biggest hole I've ever felt.  And I don't know if that will ever repair.  I can't imagine it will.        

The Paris Agreement (Paris Climate Accord)

I'm reading about this and listening to some citizens and a few major companies cry out against Trump pulling out of the Paris Climate Accord, in which the U.S. was expected to pay $1 billion dollars.  While China, Russia, and India are paying.......wait, what?  Zero.  Yep, exactly zero dollars.

And how is that right? While the people in China, Russia, and India suffer, I assure you, the leaders do not.  There is money in those countries to be found - in their leader's banks, I'm sure and, at least in the case of China, to lend to us so we owe them more and more.  But somehow, the United States of America, who already reduces Carbon emissions better than any other nation in the world.....In The World....was set to pay $1 billion.  Huh.  That doesn't seem right.  And honestly, a billion-dollar hit to our economy is not something we need right now when we're already doing a way better job than any of the rest of them.  Let THEM put their money where their mouths are for a change.

It was the international community of China, Russia, and India that pressured the U.S. into entering the agreement. So let's look at that.  Oh, that's an easy one!  It's all about the billion-dollar payment.

And who controls the funds for this little foray.  Yep, the United Nations, who frequently work against U.S. domestic interests.

How is it the biggest polluters in the world contribute nothing to the fund but those who do the most to combat it are expected to pay the most?  I say this was a bad agreement and Trump made the right decision on this one.    

This Kathy Griffin Thing

Wow, has this epic fail gone crazy or what?!?!?!

I'm a conservative but serious, some people calling for her to be arrested for treason?  Give me a break!  It was a crappy joke gone too far.  Yes, it was in bad taste; yes, it was outrageous; yes, it was inappropriate, rude, crude and, as we have all come to see, socially unacceptable. But treason?  I think not.

She's being put through the wringer on this.  She's lost jobs and endorsements.  It definitely has hit her pocketbook.  But while there are true terrorists walking around in our country, the Secret Service is wasting their time and taxpayer money investigating her for terrorism/treason.  Please.  Insert a good eye roll here.

Okay, I'm not saying I voted for or against Trump.  In fact, what I did was highly unlikely to have had an effect on anyone.  And honestly, "at this point, what does it matter?"!?!  HA!  Heard that one before.

Nevertheless, that snarky, smart-ass, snip off your nose wit-bomb just jumped the line.  That's all.

Let's look around at just how many people do exactly that.  Rappers glorify killing our men in blue and raping women. Video games teach us to turn a blind eye to violence and to actually find it entertaining.  Television and movies teach us that it's A-OK to have sex in front of kids, swear like you lack the skill of the English language, do recreational drugs, drink like a dying man then get behind the wheel of a car, and generally behave in ways that would/will destroy some people's lives forever.  And for what?  For a laugh, a CD sale, a blockbuster, a name for your badass self?

So comparatively, how bad was Kathy Griffin's headless Trumpman?  Yes, tasteless, tacky, over-the-top, and certainly you could say just plain wrong.  But I can't see it being treason, or cause to have her investigated for being a threat to the president. That just seems like taking this a little too far.  And if that's your groove, there are a whole lot of other areas you should be gunning for in this world today.  

If I Were Brave Enough

If I were brave enough, I would do things I have never done before just to say I'd done them. Okay maybe just for the thrill of it, too.

If I were brave enough, I'd climb a high mountain - though not Everest.  I'm not an idiot!  I can barely breathe as it is!

I would travel the world, even countries where I would feel like a giant at 5'9", like.....Japan.

I would go to Europe without fear and search for my ancestors.  I can hardly wait to get back my DNA results from Ancestry.com to know exactly where my people come from.  And I'd go see the place I was born, Landstuhl, Germany, at an Army hospital.

If I were brave enough, I would learn to swim, then swim in the waters off Hawaii - based solely on where my friend, Kanoe, suggested I should go.

If I were brave enough, I would put my writing out there.  I would push myself to finish my novel and do whatever it took to publish it.

I would be more honest when people are rude but don't see it by telling them their comment was uncalled for and unnecessary.

If I were brave enough, I'd show my old, wrinkled, fat arms like no one in the world would care; even on a windy day when who knows, I might take flight!

If I were brave enough, work would mean less and life - sweet, God-given, meant to be enjoyed, filled with those you care about, the smell of flowers, cool breezes, snowy days to sit inside and read a book or write, walks with my dogs whenever I want, etc - life would be number one on my list.

If I were brave enough, I'd see how little things sometimes matter, but only if they are for good.  I'd see that the biggest things are surrounded by love and that's what makes them big.  I'd see that when someone treats us disrespectfully because you have a different opinion, or don't know/see their side - especially when they are silent - it's okay to let them go and figure it out alone.

If I were brave enough, I'd let those I love still know that I love them, but leave it in their hands, trusting they will be there when I open my eyes.

If I were brave enough, I would walk away from the negative and walk toward the positive every time, regardless of its source.

If I were brave enough, I'd let all the heartache, hurt, frustration, fragile self-esteem, flutter into the wild wind to never knock on my door again.

If I were brave enough, I would live to the fullest and know that it is good.  If I were brave enough.

The Tale of the Vocal Cords

In December if 2015, I became very ill with respiratory failure, brought on by staph pneumonia and sepsis.  I was intubated for 16 days (normally it is no longer than 7 days because of the damage it causes) and the result was bilateral paralysis of my vocal cords.  I saw a specialist ENT today who works with people suffering from vocal cord problems that are bigger than your average issue.  Our vocal cords need to open in order for us to breathe.  That space, when you take a breath, is normally 15 centimeters wide.  Mine open no more than 2 centimeters.  Consequently, my voice is a bit weaker than it once was and I do not breathe well.  I sound like I am breathing through a tube because, well, I am.  But he told me I am doing much better than he anticipated, that I am strong, that my voice is much stronger than he expected.  He told me I should continue to exercise, let go of the embarrassment I carry because while everyone else gets up a flight of stairs, I huff and puff at the top like I'm too fat to manage it.  I just can't suck in the air I need.

The doctor gave me time to process this information - ie: cry.  Then reiterated how well I'm doing as opposed to expectations.  I see that as a tender mercy from my Heavenly Father.  He said we could operate to see if the two bones above the vocal cords are frozen or arthritic, but it would require a tracheotomy and if we did surgery of any kind, we might have no choice but to leave the tracheotomy in place and/or cut the vocal cords.  The results would be unknown.  I left, drove a couple of blocks to a deserted street - as deserted as one gets in downtown Denver - and had a very, very long, hard cry.  I chose not to return to work because when I calmed down enough to call my husband, I cried for a very long time again.  When I finally got myself together enough an hour or so later, I headed toward home.  I ended up deciding to do a little retail therapy - which for the record was not enough because I don't have enough money to shop away the loss of something so important - and then came home.

I have to order a bracelet that states I have bilateral vocal cord paralysis and require fiber optic intubation in an emergency.  This means I am not an optimal candidate for any kind of surgery. Guess I'm stuck with this nose of mine forever - Ha!

What's so hard about this is that I've always had a nice voice.  I've always had a great phone voice, a great speaking voice, and had a lovely singing voice.  The later will never return.  That's hard for my daughter and husband, and it's harder for me.  Music - singing - is something I've done all my life.  Every get-together my family had, every holiday, every special occasion, we sang.  My mom played the piano, my oldest sister the guitar.  And I'll never be able to sing like that again.    And, Lord, I miss it so much.  It's not something you can explain to someone else.  Someone who has, say, lost a child thinks, "big deal", and they are right.  But the inability to sing takes away a stress reliever for me.  It takes away an avenue to spirituality; it takes away the closeness my daughter and I shared when I sang to her; it took away one of the things my husband loves about me.

I know, unless you've walked down this road - almost losing your life, almost losing your career, almost losing things that have been so important to you - unless you've endured it, you can't begin to imagine what it does to your heart, your soul, your inner peace.  So much in life is not worth the worry.  So much is not worth the effort.  But despite my knowledge in all this, I'm still mourning this loss.      

Immigration Reform

My first New Leaf post is a cheat.  I wrote it a long time ago but I still believe what I said very strongly.

This is copied from a post I made on Facebook on December 7, 2014:

I've been thinking and reading and praying a lot about the immigration issue in our country for many, many months. I know I disagree with amnesty for all who are in this country, especially the ones who have flooded into our country recently. But, after prayerfully considering those who have long lived in this country, I think things need to be considered. Do they support a family here in the U.S. by the work they do? That does NOT mean living on subsidies; it means actually holding down a job. Do they have American citizen immediate family members - meaning wives and/or children? Do they have a criminal record in their homeland and have they broken ANY of our laws while in our country -other than being here illegally? Are they gang members? Are they able to speak the English language or are they willing to learn over a six month period - enough to function here, take direction, understand instructions? Do their family members speak English or are they willing to learn? I think it is blatant disrespect and speaks volumes to expect to live in a country permanently and not know the language well enough to function there. If you want to be a United States citizen, BE a United States citizen.

We ARE a nation of immigrants and I think most people are accepting of that. The protest arises from criminals coming over, a flood of people coming because they believe "now is the time" with our current debate over immigration, those who refuse to speak the national language - or pretend to not be able to-, those who are unable or unwilling to work and have no family members who can support them.

It is NOT inhumane to expect immigrants to be contributing members of society. It is NOT unkind to expect immigrants to take responsibility for themselves. In the past, many immigrants have been some of the greatest contributors to our society. We, as a country, have a right to expect an immigrant to rise up to their responsibilities. I think it MUST be broken down to the ability to contribute, just as it is in any other country taking in immigrants. Keep in mind, immigration and refugees are far from the same and claiming all the South Americans coming over the border are refugees would be simple ignorance.

I also think our borders MUST be tightened because it is not just a flow of South Americans coming here. Border patrol folks KNOW there are other countries - those countries interested in destroying us - who are slipping through, too. I am praying that our national leaders can stop their political power struggle long enough to take thoughtful and meaningful action in this matter.

Jump to 2017 - The issue of immigration has moved more toward Muslims now than South American's, it seems.  The mass movement of immigrants from Mexico and elsewhere has dropped off significantly.  I don't want to see good people who work hard deported to a country where they cannot survive because the ability to obtain citizenship has not been available or has been too far outside of an affordable position for them to make it happen.  But I do think that's where all of the gang members, other criminals, and those that drain our social service funds should go.  And please understand, I'm not saying I think it's just immigrants that drain us as a society.  Of course, there are people born and raised their entire lives, like their parent, grandparents, and great-grandparents, in this country who behave in exactly the same way.  We have enough of our own.  We don't nee them form another country.  I just wish I had a workable answer for it.      

Choosing What's Best

I need to choose what is best for me every day.  I've been doing very little of the things I love.  I'm not reading a lot, certainly not writing a lot, not exercising near enough.  Time to put things in perspective.

My goal is to start writing on my blog weekly, exercising 5 days a week, and reading every day, even if it's just a page.

My last post I was so terribly depressed and feeling in a deeper hole than I've been in since I was a teen that I know, even though I feel better, that I need to do some things for me.  The truth is, I have a pretty good life.  I was blessed with a wonderful daughter, our only child, who struggles with her own darkness now and then.  And after many not so wonderful years, my husband has turned out to be a pretty good husband.  Turns out, it just took the right mental health drugs to get him there.  So now it comes to me changing some bad habits, or neglectfulness, that I've fallen into.  I'm going to try hard to keep this going.  And maybe entertain a reader or two.  Maybe I can grow my following.

A Heavy Heart

My heart is so heavy these last few weeks.  So much to deal with and so much sorrow and anger.  I am feeling lost in my soul and sometimes feel as though life is too exhausting to endure.  But I cannot show weakness, or anger, or sorrow, or regret, or anything that might be construed as negative.  For if I do, everything around me shatters and falls.

I get up each day and force a smile on my face, pretend the world is not so heavy and painful to carry. Despite her allegations that I do not, I do understand the feeling my daughter describes of being in a dark, deep well.  I've been living there for a while now.  If you say anything to anyone, the advice is, go see a therapist, get some help.  But I have tried that and I cannot do it.  I cannot release it.  And so I do what I have done a good chunk of my life.  I put that smile on and pretend.  I repeat to myself over and over, like a mantra, I am happy.  Life is good.

And so I travel through life with a pot of boiling water about to spill and scald my hands.  It is a precarious walk I must adhere to every waking hour.  And in sleep, I pray for quiet, a dreamland of silence and nothingness.  Just so I can have some peace.

Have you ever let your daydreams take you away so you could feel good and excited about the possibilities in life?  I used to use those, take them like candy, to alleviate the sadness.  But even that does not work for me anymore.  And every little thing is just a crushing down of my light, leaving me deeper and deeper in the darkness.

I have chosen to end a friendship that was clearly bad for me for a long time.  I cannot believe the relief I feel in the release of obligation.  It has made things so much easier.  The hardest part was that I had ended it on my side some time ago but had not told her.  And when I did, I was so emotionally weak from the dark chamber that I cried when I told her.  Of course, she thought it was at the loss of the friendship that brought the tears,  And I let her think it to not hurt her.  But it was just the release of the crushing weight it had laid on my shoulders for far too long.  I should have told her before I got sick.  But I was afraid to hurt her feelings.  Whether someone is a friend, a co-worker, a boss, a neighbor, an acquaintance, it is never easy to hurt someone.  It is never something you want to do.  But it has given me a much-needed space to breathe in.  It was the best thing I could have done for myself.  Even writing this now, speaking to myself in the one solace I find in life - writing - reminds me of that lifting of weight.  How sad that a friendship can become such a burden to carry.  But they can when you do not choose carefully and do not allow yourself to see a person for who they really are.  The funny thing is, a co-worker warned me, and I still bull-headedly moved forward.  Lesson learned.  Let her - or them - think it has all been whatever they think it is.  Because all it really is for me is better.