"Every morning I jump out of bed and step on a landmine. The landmine is me. After the explosion, I spent the rest of the day putting the pieces together"
~ Ray Bradbury
I don't need to be fixed. I just want a place to rest my broken thoughts until I don't feel like I need to be repaired.
~Cynicallovebird
Even when I say I give zero, I mean more like 30% is still hanging on for dear life.
I agree with the voice of my mother in my head telling me that nobody will ever love me because it's easier than admitting someone might. It's easier to believe that I need no one than to hold onto the hope that someday I will need someone. It's easier to believe that I am a broken hot mess than a whole person who's worthy of good things.
The fall has always been a hard time for me. September and October have always been my favorite time of year. Suddenly the week before Halloween, I get this ominous black cloud swooping over my universe. A lot of bad things have happened in my life surrounding this time of year; illness, surgeries (3 of them), pregnancy, birthdays of some of the worst people on the planet, mental breakdown...I could go on, but the list would require a scroll. And then if I did put it on a scroll, all kinds of weird things would go on and it would just look like something out of The Lord of the Rings, and my anxiety can't handle that right now and I'm too pretty to turn into the weird troll guy who's all "My Precious".....So I'm writing this, here, instead. I knew it was coming. I could feel the crushing pressure of anniversaries coming like an arthritic person feels a rain storm in their knees.
Something suddenly happened to me over the past two weeks that I can't really explain, but it feels like Superman swooped in and disintegrated the big flat rock that was turning me into a spiritual pancake.
The "Holidays" are hard for some of us. Here's to everyone walking laps around the block, drinking in the basement, hiding in the bathroom, staying home because they can't put on the act anymore. I salute you, all those who will keep silent to keep the peace, all those who've finally had enough and call them out, all those who walk away, drawing once last line the sand. Some people get lucky and have functional families. Then there are the rest of us, left here wondering why things have to be this way. Having my mother gone makes some of this better. Some of it, worse.
I will say with a definite burst of joy that this Thanksgiving was the best that I've had in 10 year, at least. Both of the kids made their pies. I've discovered how to make a new dessert: Piecaken! If you've never heard of it, look it up. It's revolutionary! My combo was a pumpkin pie (made by Reighan) and carrot cake. Also a new family favorite side that I made, stuffing muffins. I had Thanksgiving day at my aunt's. It was nice. For once, nobody was fighting with someone. Everyone talked and it was relaxed. We all sang karaoke like we always do when we get together. It was nice that my kids got to experience what I had when I was a kid - after all the stressing that I spent wondering if that was gone forever. The kids even sang with everyone. My heart was so happy that I the second my head hit the pillow I ugly cried.
I spent Friday dead to the world because of stupid autoimmune crap. Then Saturday I had dinner at my brother's. My niece Aurora turned 1, her party was Sunday. Are parties for a 1 year old even for the kid? Let's face it: it's more of a celebration of keeping a tiny human alive while you were so sleep deprived that no other human would be functional. I'm still pulling for it to be mandated that every new parent be given a rug washer upon leaving the hospital. My spawn are 14 and 16, and I'm still getting my money's worth out of that thing.
And I've been reflecting on why my little Grinch heart has swollen so big this year, given that under the surface I also feel a tad like a volcano; but that's for another post. And then, sitting on John's couch it just fell out of my mouth: "I feel a lot better once I learned to stop being a people pleasing pain in the ass." And for anyone who knows me prior to this past 18 months. Before right now, I was constantly worried about everyone except my own happiness. I made sure everyone had what they needed before I would take a second to recharge my own batteries. I've stopped apologizing for things that I didn't do. I stopped caring - not on an asshole level, but on the no longer giving energy to anything unnecessary level. I feel like once I started giving my energy to what actually mattered and started paying attention to what I need, everything else is just falling into place.
But then there is the giving of all the fucks. All the time.
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