Sadness Moving On

After my visit with the Great Uncle G yesterday, I really felt like I could get back on top of things.  I even went out in the evening and had dinner with mom and the Big Dawg.  I had a good time, the food was excellent, the company even better.  I came home, did a little Internet chatting, watched two episodes of “Scandal” and then went to bed.  At that point, I was still feeling very positive.

I had a good night’s sleep last night so I woke up thinking today would be pretty good.  I came out to my computer, where I always go to wake up.  Drank a glass of water, took morning meds, petted the Kizz Wizz.  Nothing out of the ordinary.  I checked my email, no big surprises there.  I checked my comments from yesterday and also checked on responses to posts I commented on yesterday.  It was an ordinary morning, just like any morning.  I could have been getting ready to go to work for as fine as I felt.

And then I opened FB.  Right there on my home feed, was a very large photo of my old English teacher from middle school, along with words underneath indicating her life accomplishments.  Because, well, she had died.

You know, I knew that yesterday and I pretty much blocked it out.  I was feeling too good to let it get to me, but today, vulnerable from just waking up, it was too much.  I scanned more of FB and it was just more drama, more hate, more kids sick with cancer, soldiers wounded in action and suffering, people hurting other people.  Why do people post shit like that?  What does it really accomplish?

So I shut FB off.  I was kinda trying to hang around to catch a friend of mine, but I couldn’t take it anymore.  I just hung my head and cried.  Cried like a big baby, because the world isn’t fair, people aren’t fair OR nice, and there is a website that just wraps all of that up into one package and drops it on your doorstep.  What is the fucking point of that?

And then a song comes on my Pandora that takes me back to that time in middle school, when I was a student of the teacher who had passed away.  She was an English teacher.  She was so patient with me.  She believed in me, praised me for my writing.  More tears.  Just hanging my head and crying.

I guess it’s going to be a crying kind of day, because I cried while I looked at pictures of my nephew, cried when I think back to the screwed up DSB situation, cried when I thought about how I haven’t been a very good therapy participant because I haven’t sent diary cards in two days, cried because my medication was wrong for so long, just cried, cried, cried.

My instinct is to go back to bed, try and start this day over.  Before all of this silly and random crying started, I had things I wanted to do today.  Things I need to do today.  And I do still need to do those things.  And I really am ok.  Just overly emotional today.

Tears don’t mean something is broken.  Tears are just sadness and sometimes joy, spilling over.  You don’t need to worry that I am crying or that today hasn’t been a very good day so far.  This is just another day in the life of the Rosa, and, as always, it does get better.


Last Reverb Prompt for 2013

Reverb13 prompt for the 21st and last day is as f0llows:

Then, without thinking too hard about it, grab a pen and some paper and finish the following five sentences:

2014 is going to be MY YEAR because…

In 2014, I am going to do…

In 2014, I am going to feel…

In 2014, I am not going to…

In December 2014, I am going to look back and say…

This is a hard list for me today, feeling rather down and un-optimistic about the future, but I’ll give ‘er a try.

2014 is going to be my year because…

I am going to try harder.  I am going to backtrack and say, hey, maybe I do need a little bit more therapy to get through to this nastiness I carry around in my brain and body but ignore.  I am going to push through discomfort and take better care of my body…bathe more, loofah where needed, lotion, you know, better self-care.  I am going to try harder to practice self-compassion, giving myself a break, even when I might not feel like I deserve it.

In 2014, I am going to do

whatever it takes to stay quit smoking.  I have worked at this really hard in 2013 and I am not going to let it slide with the new year.  I have so many obstacles around me.  People get panicky and jealous and hateful when you do something like this for yourself.  I’ve had my fill of that.  I am doing this for me and my health, so I can be around for my Kizzer pup until the cows come home.

In 2014, I am going to feel…

like I belong inside my body and my brain.  Changes are a’coming, I hope.  I can’t go on much longer with the status quo.

In 2014, I am not going to

be a doormat, take it when someone yells or criticizes me, allow myself to continue with relationships that break my heart.  Either the relationship changes, or I go.

In December 2014, I am going to look back and say…

I sure got more accomplished than I thought I would.

Come Meet the Infamous QoB

My mom, Queen of Bisquits, Queen of DaNile, whatever you want to call her, has graciously agreed to “guest post” tonight.  Has been a bit of a trying day and she has always been a giver, this time being giving me a little time to decompress.  Without further ado…

As a guest, first We say gracias, elder Mija. As a blogger… well, for QofD ‘tis been done for years, rarely in the public eye.

Funny, it is, how the older one gets the less and more angst fills one’s world. Ya know… that tiny little space in the continuum one calls “life.” How different one’s own perspective is, let alone seeing it in different eyes as the cycle goes forward.

Spent a day, today, first Pricillatating (yes, that’s a word) a necessary trip to the local homebigbox place to score schtuff for the store, and elsewhere. Then stopping in a parking lot, realizing one’s beloveds from a different time span were linking up with a “grandpa,” who was never much of one. Realizing if SOMEONE didn’t make this prettier, ‘twould perhaps not be very pretty for the young eyes of youth.

It went well. ‘twas chaos, in a good, though confined way. On toward reality of the day… what was really supposed to be happening, rather than a hella long sidetrack. Small children who used to be terrified of dogs greeted three of my dogfamily, with joy. All of them (dogs) much bigger than the “kids.”

Noticed, the one child seemed so much like a younger child once known very.darned.well. His father. Heartbreakingly similar. Really? How can lack of environment still have those same looks, twitches, and compassion?

By end of day, we’d fed goats tortilla chips, caught snails from the aquarium to send back with small boys, cooked some hella good “birthday” supper for the birthday boy… who had a “cold” and couldn’t participate much. Ehh, a tired old story that gets re-told. Over, and over, and over again.

The bestest part of this day was spent with my Rosa, today’s hostess with the mostest. We always can talk, and talk, and sooner or later maybe figure out world peace… or not.

After day is almost done, ‘twas a good day. Fraught with small boys, too cold the weather to be outside, and the yearning to have more time with their beloved momma who I think of as a true friend. It makes me think of time spent, with all… and wonder how life keeps up this constant churn and turn.

At end of day, I wonder… was I a good friend? A good mother? Am I still a good mother? Can I be a halfassed good grandma? Have I DONE enough with my life to put a small piece of it forward?

Funny, how we all seem to have such angst at living our lives. Coulda’ Shoulda’ stinkin’ thoughts. If I had one wish, I’d wish away the second-guessing many of us live with.

At end of day, ‘tis best to be very thankful for life. We choose to live it. We have the ability to embrace it, and just call it good. ‘til tomorrow. Then we’re given another chance to try again. Therein lies the way of way of a more peaceful existence… as one gets older, ‘tis hella easier to say it was a good day.