So far this has been a strange year.
I've been sick alot. Lots of headaches, lots of fibro and arthritis pain. Suspect my blood pressure is extremely high. However, I still have no health insurance or disposable income, so there's really nothing I can do about any of that.
I've been wanting to write even more than usual. And of course, work has been exhausting me even more, and feeling crappy has sucked that energy right out.
I am actually learning, slowly but surely, that nothing is much of a big deal. My health. My work. My home. My whatever. I have lost it all before and probably will again. But somehow, I keep existing, if only for the sick sense of humor of some Supreme Being/Higher Power. (Christians, do not flood my inbox with heartfelt yet useless platitudes. I understand your faith, studied, got the t-shirt; I am not there and you can't force me. Yet. Of course, if the GOP has its way, I am sure that will change.) So what happens here, stays here and it's not a big deal. Am I certain where these thoughts have come from? Not really. It's either sanity or soul-crushing depression.
Right now I can go either way.
Yesterday I attended a fairly good Al-Anon 12 Step Workshop. It is the second time I have attended such a workshop and the 4th time I have worked the 12 Steps. Then I came home, took about an hour before I got warm again, and then fell asleep reading and slept ELEVEN hours. Usually I can only pull this off when I am severely depressed. And while I know I am going to have to drag my carcass forth to go to work 12-18 hours a day, I really don't have the will or strength to do much of anything else.
Of course, sleeping 11 hours (or more than 6) has the lovely effect upon me of kicking in another migraine, so today I will go forth to do a week's worth of housecleaning, laundry, cooking, and scrubbing. When all I want to do is lie in bed and read. And maybe watch Doc Martin.
Blog by a woman who is a writer, mother, knitter, Buddhist, meditator, reader, and editor, recovering from life and who isn't really good at any of it!
Sunday, January 22, 2012
Sunday, January 8, 2012
2012 - Resolving not to make resolutions
I decided to do what I can in 2012.
No swearing to accomplish heroic feats.
No deciding to fill up another plate of self-loathing in the process of trying to shrink my body into someone else's idea of acceptable.
No more trying to be superwoman.
No more killing myself to support a household where everyone has demands but no one is willing to shoulder the burdens.
I am going to change the things I can. And let the impossible sit it out.
What is not impossible is this:
Write more. Such as type a few lines on the blog once a week.
Eat something healthy instead of shit. I am stretching every dime to buy food as it is, so I might as well as buy something less horrible.
Read more. So many books, so little time.
Breathe. Get back on the cushion.
And finally, the hardest thing of all:
Forgive myself. Stop hating myself for being ugly, fat, slow, stupid, and a self-sacrificing doormat that has achieved not one of my dreams but most of the duties and descriptions thrust upon me by others.
Forgive myself for all the above, and make the last years I have be extraordinary for having one less person hate me: Me.
I'm hoping this is not impossible.
No swearing to accomplish heroic feats.
No deciding to fill up another plate of self-loathing in the process of trying to shrink my body into someone else's idea of acceptable.
No more trying to be superwoman.
No more killing myself to support a household where everyone has demands but no one is willing to shoulder the burdens.
I am going to change the things I can. And let the impossible sit it out.
What is not impossible is this:
Write more. Such as type a few lines on the blog once a week.
Eat something healthy instead of shit. I am stretching every dime to buy food as it is, so I might as well as buy something less horrible.
Read more. So many books, so little time.
Breathe. Get back on the cushion.
And finally, the hardest thing of all:
Forgive myself. Stop hating myself for being ugly, fat, slow, stupid, and a self-sacrificing doormat that has achieved not one of my dreams but most of the duties and descriptions thrust upon me by others.
Forgive myself for all the above, and make the last years I have be extraordinary for having one less person hate me: Me.
I'm hoping this is not impossible.
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