Watching 8 Below with the boys while Matt is working. I'm proud of myself because thus far I have not cried. And dogs have died. The people fell down rock slides and thru the ice and I thought, "Meah. Leave them. " Sad but I feel worse for animals than I do people. Especially when it's doctor "I can't listen" Douchebag causing problems.
There is a dog on the show named Max. A young dog, over grown pup really, who has a lot to learn. My Max enjoyed watching his exploits on screen. It seriously cracks me up, although it should have long since lost its novelty, to watch Max watch tv. Hilarious...to me anyway.
Someone better rescue these dogs quick. I'm getting sympathy hunger pains. And I'm cold.
The last few days have been really great. Work hasn't sucked. We actually had a no hitter on a Monday. That's never happened before in the nearly two years I've been at my job. Today we only had one and I wasn't up for it.
The weather has been great. I've gotten to see friends and accomplish something, no matter how small, each day. Somehow getting something done that you've been avoiding for awhile always makes me happier.
So it's been pretty good lately. Super excited about seeing the trend continue.
I'm re-reading The Thirteenth Tale for a book club I'm trying to get off the ground. And as I came across the portion of the book where Vida is detailing what it was like for her when John the dig died the parallel to my own situation struck me. She puts off grieving because there are things to be done. She will grieve later. She can not cry in front of certain people, etc. And then when the time comes to cry she finds that the tears have fossilized inside of her and will not come out. The time is passed and she must move on.
I feel much the same about my Grandma Sally. I couldn't cry. I couldn't grieve because I had to go right to work. I had to work around work coverage to take time off. I found that it was impossible to eviscerate another human being while thinking of someone I had just lost. So I buried my grief. I told it, "Not yet" and made it wait. Then when the first portion of time came that I had off I had too much to do. I had to be sure to bottle the grief because it would negatively impact the family I was trying to help. It would make them uncomfortable and then it was back to work. And everyone looked at me funny for not being done with grieving since hadn't it been a week? And now I had a half day and I will have tomorrow off as well and try as I might the tears will not come. It is impossible to be professional about death when you are personally feeling its after effects. But now that I no longer need to be professional I find that I can not connect with the part of me who truly comprehends what it means that I will never again share a story, or a laugh, a cookie, or a moment with my grandmother.
This just sucks. And I feel guilty all around. Guilty for not crying. Guilty for taking time off work. Guilty for not being more available to my family (even though they just keep pushing me away). Guilty guilty guilty.
My Grandma Sally passed away late last night. I haven't really processed it yet and I haven't really cried. I can't give in to that grief until I know I don't have to go back to work and be okay around death. Wish my a*shat of a boss would have actually contacted me to finalize my organization approved time off. It's amazing how quick he was to respond when it was just to offer sympathy but I started talking about what days I needed off and he is all of a sudden unreachable.
And to add insult to injury my mother in law gave me the guilt trip snippet about "*sigh* Maybe if there were grandchildren this would be worth it......*long suffering sigh*...." Yes. I get it. You want grand kids. You have one already and another on the way. And for whatever reason Matt and I haven't been able to manage any sort of non-4 legged grand kid for you. Get a clue and shut up about it. It's hard to appreciate the grand kids you do have if I snap and kill you.
It's begining to look a lot like depression. Seriously I've gone to bed the last two nights at 8pm and it was pushing to make myself stay up that late. I'm pissed/frustrated/down/hate-filled/upset by/overwhelmed by everything in my life at the moment. I feel like a failure in every sphere I exist in and lazy to boot.
I look forward to nothing. I am happy about nothing. Nothing brings me joy and everything is a big overwhelming mess at the moment. If I could somehow sleep away the rest of the year and thought that might somehow help this crapfest I currently inhabit I would do it.
But as each new dawn teaches me there is always a new depth to sink to. There is always something worse and that something is coming. It's always coming and never from the direction you anticipate or in a manner expected. Yippee skippee.
So life dangled the solid gold plated, diamond and jewel encrusted platinum core carrot of utmost desire under my nose and then at the last possible hope filled second went and YANKED it right and my dreams right out from under me. Nice. Thanks. You're a fat bastard, Life.
I try and work towards the goal. I do everything I can. I wrack my brain and scour the internet for sage words of wisdom and advice. Short of making myself immediately 60lbs lighter (which trust me I would do if it were in my power) I'm doing everything advised or even suggestively hinted at. And the situation just desinegrates further which each new "improvement". It's enough to make a sane person crazy and full of despair. As I doubt highly I was sane at the start I find myself that much worse off.
And I hate myself.
Because this never was supposed to matter. This was a new and distinctly un-melike, atypical last minute adaption to "the plan" and now it matters more than the veterans of the life goal group; those staples that make/made up my identity for so long. Suddenly everything before pales and this all consuming project takes it all. I just wish I knew one way or the other. Because if it really can't happen then I can get back to living and make new exciting plans to soothe the pain of missing out on this. If it can happen then I will slug it out and do my time in the trenches of Depression and Despair because at the end it would have been worth it. I just want to know.It's the uncertainty, even more than the failure and guilt, that gets to me. I'm sick of the roller coaster of up and down.
This is changing me and I resent that. I never was this person, not even close. I never wanted the misfortune of others. And I don't really want them to suffer a loss like we did but I don't want them to have joy either. It shames me but I find myself angry when I should be happy for people. This whole thing just screams "NOT FAIR" and Not Fair and I have never been even remotely cordial to one another. I feel like I don't even understand or know myself anymore. This might just break me.
And every time I hit rock bottom, like right now, I tell myself not to let it matter so much. I might even succeed in re-establishing equilibrium for an hour but the barest hint of hope and I'm right back. Like an addict scenting a score I'm jonesing to sign back up for another hit. Another round of having what you want dangled in front of you and then the world gets pulled out from under your feet.
Round and round we go, where we'll stop, nobody knows....
I'm trying not to stress or focus too intently on this all consuming project/idea/whatnot. I just need to make it through the next three days without having my dreams crushed yet again and life should be shiny, golden and fantasmorastic. Barring that wonderfulness I would settle for better attitude and mental acuity for telling my subconscious to take a long walk off a very short pier and having it listen. So really one impossibility or the other is all I'm asking for here.
Sometimes the things that work the best are the things from a simpler earlier time. My mom had a cd when I was about 13 and thought I was going through really tough stuff. (Rachel Krampe, my best friend, had a boyfriend but I didn't...or some trivial thing that passes as tragedy in the teenage world) There was a song called "Walk On". And three ladies who sounded like they were having a kick butt time sang very close harmony on this rock-style (for my mom any way) song with lyrics about getting up, dusting yourself off and limping on.
I'm not going through any particular trouble at the moment. In fact my family experienced a miracle Easter weekend with our puppy and a life threatening situation.. As I write this I sit in a very comfortable home, curled up next to a Mastiff pup who loves me while my best friend and husband works at his spacious office downstairs with the older dog. We had an awesome dinner and actually cooked it together. We had great conversation and today at work was pretty okay. Yesterday I sang at the baptisim of my best friend's child, a high light of my singing career since it meant so much to both of us. Life is pretty darn decent.
But I've reached a point in certain aspects of my life where I just can't go on with things the way they are. I need to change my life. I need to change the way that I handle things, the way I react and I just want to live fuller. Diane Ackerman once said,
I don't want to get to the end of my life and find that I have just lived the length of it. I want to have lived the width of it as well."
If I don't change some things physically the length of my life isn't going to be well...lengthy and forget about the width part. There are so many things I feel limited in or have limited myself in. I just want to live fuller. Not necessarily in a sky diving sort of way but more in an at peace with myself and others sort of way, which for me is more terrifying. Can I really wrestle control of myself away from my own apathy and laziness? Gosh, I sure hope so. Time to put on my big girl panties and deal with me!
Walk On - excerpt
You can take your words made of psycho-babble.
I don't need no shrink to see my life's unraveled.
Pay you a mountain of gold to candy coat me lies.
I'm at the end of my rope, time I realize
That when the going gets tough and the tough are long gone, just
Walk on, walk on, walk on, walk on. Who-oh!
It is all I can do to climb out of bed this morning. I do not want to go to work. I do not want to talk or interact with anyone. I don't want to pet my dogs or brush my teeth or shower. I don't want to do anything but seek solace behind closed eyelids and sleep. I don't want to be happy for my best friend. I don't want to go banter with work people. I don't want to do anything but sleep. And I wish I could just wake up and it would all be different. But it won't and so I don't. I don't want to do anything but sleep.
Take some time. Why? So I can feel this way again and again and again and again? So I can literally wake up for another day and then three and then a week and then a month feeling this lost and down? Yeah that sounds just terrific. Let me sign up for the wait it out and time heals all wounds bullsh*t. If the universe is going to continue to screw me then I don't want to be awake for the process.