So what is sanity anyway?

Today was one of those days where I just did what I had to do. And halfway through the day at work I realized that every joint in my body was locking up, in pain, and basically I needed to get back home before the flare came on and really kicked my ass.

I made it home, and got into bed. Slept about an hour, and then got up and hit an Al-Anon meeting. Had trouble walking, especially with the ice on the pavement here, but Tim helped me, so I made it. The worse part of it was getting up the stairs at the meeting, but isn't that always the way? Anyway, after the meeting, Tim and I went for burritos and then I came home to get in the tub and soak in the hottest water I could stand. Now I am just wavering stiff, not in acute pain, as the hot water did its job. Tomorrow may be another story. But I am here. And only aching from the wrists down.

At any rate, this week has caused me to look at some of my own -isms and determine if I can recover from them. One of them is workaholism.... I have felt that if I weren't working every day that I was snowed/iced in this week that I was a terrible person and at risk for losing one or more of my jobs. I have to let go of that.

I also am at the mercy of a 3 year old with strep throat who is terrorizing the household simply because she feels so terrible herself. Gawdess only knows I have done this myself numerous times in the past years.... yet it sucks when the shoe is on the other foot......

Anyway, I question what is sanity as I try to - quite literally, as it turns out - put one foot in front of the other and do the next simple thing to get through my life... What is it? How will I know when I have grasped it? And what's so great about it anyway?

Today

I am feeling out of sorts, and doing the next right thing does not seem to be helping.
I went to a meeting, did my reading, tried to do the meditating thing... it is still the concept of a higher power that keeps tripping me up... and now am trying to rest so I can get up and work the two 12 hour shifts this weekend overnight.
I have been with the three year old until 4:30am last night, and now looks like I will be entertaining her until I leave for work tonight at 8pm. She is very angry with me whenever I ask for a minute to myself. They all are. It is cold and miserable here, and that is why they are all even more dependent on me to entertain them, feed them, clean up after them, and basically be ever-present to all their needs.
Warming up the potato leek soup from three nights ago. This will have to do...

i believe in god, but not as one thing, not as an old man in the sky. i believe that what people call god is something in all of us.
John Lennon

What happens when you find out you are not as unique as you have thought?

Today's dilemma is a peculiar one. I have always thought that my experiences made me unique. Yet as I look for solace in this big bad world, I figure out that I am not unique at all.

There is nothing new that I have gone through.

There is nothing new in my reactions to whatever has happened to me.

This is both a relief and a fact that pisses me off.

One day at a time... indeed...

Today was one of those days I lived in a fog. Nothing terrible happened, so I am grateful for that. I can't say that very often. I did forget to return calls or basically be a social person, but the work stuff is done.

Tim continues his meetings. So far, so good.

Tonight I am going to relax and get caught up on light reading. My current book is *Living Dead in Dallas* by Charlaine Harris, the writer I go to for entertainment and a good escape.

Tomorrow maybe I will feel more ambitious for writing. I haven't even knitted in a few days!

Another day at the salt mines

This was a day that perhaps would have been happier spent in bed. At least part of it was, as I came home from my 12 hour third shift job and gratefully crashed. My mind was racing, and yet it halted immediately and let me sleep. Not well or long, but I did sleep. Then it was off to pick up the kids in Paris at my grandmother's after discovering that the rehab center would not accept my husband as we do not live in an urban county. The offered alternative was to try to get some kind of outpatient counseling through the CMHC here in our county. Since I worked for them for many years, I am not too comforted by that. However, he went to his first AA meeting in 7 years, and it was a positive experience for him. Not so for me, who attempted to attend yet another Al-Anon meeting and found out that the times listed were incorrect. Again. That makes 4 out of 5 attempts unsuccessful due to such "clerical" errors. My faith in human nature thus renewed once again, we proceeded home for a night of isolation and children's antics. I had forgotten how much I miss them!

Last night I finished the endless garter stitch scarf. It is now officially bigger than I am - not only in tedium, but now in actual size.

And at 2am, I am still pleading with a 2 year old to get to sleep.

Ah, good times.

Trite, Tried, and True

This is the last day I spent with my husband. Tomorrow he goes in a residential rehab program, and then I will be living alone with the kids, my two jobs, and my messy house (and slightly insane, misunderstood dog).

So how did we spend it? Well, I was sick from working all night and being up over 30 hours, so I slept most of it away. He watched football. Any attempts at conversation ended up in tears on both sides.

Then I got up, tried to make a meal - with too many substitutions, I could not even stand to eat it. And then I got ready for work, and came back to work the 8:30pm to 8:30am shift.

Was it Kahlil Gilbran who said, Let there be spaces in your togetherness?

What if the spaces are within yourself?

Change is hard...

Today was one of those days when I should have slept before coming to work a nice third shift 12 hour shift, but my mind would not be quiet enough to let me sleep.

It is true that my life is going through alot of upheaval at the moment. And that change is difficult and painful, etc. I spent the majority of the day depressed. Yet now there is a small voice of optimism telling me that this too shall pass, like all other things of difficulty in my past.

I miss my children terribly. I had no idea how much I depend on hearing their chaotic childish chatter in the house. It is such a comfort.

And I am still knitting that damn never-ending scarf for my boss!

More later, or tomorrow, however life plays out....

Currently reading:
The Road
by Cormac McCarthy

It is artfully and beautifully written. I recommend it highly. However, it should be read only in the right (i.e., not depressed, or fatalistic) frame of mind. It is fatalistic enough on its own.

When is it just too much?

This is more of my attempt to write more in 2009. Please bear with me.

Today I am faced with the dilemma of when is too much, well, just too much. Basically I do not characterize myself as a forgiving person. Yet I have tried to cobble together a life with someone, and he has continued to let me down on every level imaginable. Now he has agreed to go into rehab on Monday, and I am glad for it.
Others are telling me that it will be hard to live without a man, without a husband. However, I did it for about 8 years before I met this one, and for 25 years before I met the first one. I was a single mother for 8 years, and I preferred it, actually. There was no one I had to confer with before I made a parenting decision, and I always knew if I worked (and I always did/do), my kids would not go without. I also slept when I wanted to, and there was no one to wake me up 2-20 times a night to tell me I am snoring...

My dilemma is this:
How can you tell when you no longer love someone?
And can you love someone you cannot trust?
And how many transgressions can/should I overlook before I require someone to be accountable for their actions toward me?

Hmmmm, I may have answered my own question.

I am hypervigilant about my own conduct, especially when it comes to being accountable to those I love. However, I am learning the hard way, in my 40th year, that most people (at least those in my family/marriage) are not.

Anyway, keep the faith. I cannot.

A new year, a new way of thinking

This will be an abbreviated post, as it is actually 3:45am on the 2nd as I am writing this.

This year, I vow to write more.
That's it. No other resolutions.
Yeah, I am fat and should lose weight, but that is not a resolution I will make.
Yeah, I am living la vida loca, and could use some sanity, but then again, I will live with my insanity (and others') one day at a time.
Yeah, I need to clean house more, listen to my children more, work a better paying job, do something about my appearance, reinvent the wheel and become the All-American mother.
But, no.
I vow to write more.