I struggle with being patient. I hate to wait. I try to keep my inner rage a secret. Sometimes though it bubbles to the surface, a meltdown starts and I have a mini explosion before I can fully regain my composure. Sorry.
Contrary to my own popular belief, I am human. I make mistakes. I can be hateful, mean and petty. I strive everyday to be better than the worst example of myself. This week has been a bitch. A slight runny nose blossomed into a full blown head cold early Tuesday morning. As I sit here writing I am huffing and puffing through my mouth as my nose refuses to breathe. I am angry and frustrated. I needed this cold to be gone Tuesday night! Last week I missed my Friday night writing deadline for my WWs meeting. Truth be told I was exhausted and emotionally spent. I wasn’t feeling the love for myself or anyone else to sit long enough to capture my thoughts in the hopes someone would feel inspired. I wasn’t feeling inspired. I am sorry. I was not my best.
I sort of tracked this week. I am sure my relaxed attempts will reflect back at me tomorrow from the scale. Am I okay with that? I should be and yet I am not. I need to be at my best to really put forth the effort needed to change a lifelong bad habit of abusing myself with poor food choices. Do you know what happens when I don’t feel my best? I don’t DO my best. I start to feel sorry myself. If I start listening to the dark voices of my addiction that tell me, “just ONE won’t hurt!” I will be finished. When your addiction is food,” just one more” can ruin every thing you have accomplished. It is hard for me to be good to myself when I have medicine head. All I really want to do is lie down in the middle of whatever it is I am pretending to do and CRY.
I haven’t cried but I have struggled. I want to feed my anger and my frustration. I know it is not a great idea. I am forgiving myself for not being at my best. I am trying to accept that on this journey I will falter and make mistakes. I have learned the most amazing things from some of the mistakes I have had. I will pick myself up, pull up my big girl panties and work through this! I will hold my head up high (my nose runs less this way) I will move forward and carry on. I can do this. I will do this. I want to be in every minute of this journey, bumpy road and all.
Yesterday was rude awakening day for me. I took Pops out for a haircut, lunch and to the optician to pick up his new glasses. My Pops has been in an alternate living situation since right before the Christmas holidays. Yes, that is my fancy way of saying nursing home. Ok, so it is taking me a while in the acceptance department but I am working on it. I am. I promise. I say it was rude awakening day because I guess I never realized before how draining being with my pops can be. I enjoyed his company while I was with him but I felt so tired and sad after I returned him to his place. I am still working on how our relationship has changed. What part I play now versus the role I used to have.
Sometimes the people that a person works with can become like family. Over the years I have grown close to quite a few of my fellow employees. We have formed our own unique family. I would be lost without them. We help each other through some pretty large mine fields of BS. Anyone who works for their $$ knows what I am saying without having to put it to words. More importantly my framily have been there for me when I needed a shoulder to cry on. I like to think I have provided them that same support. The flip side of that closeness however, is that one or two people that runs through the vein in everyone’s family tree; the nay sayer, the contrary Mary, that one person who makes it their personal mission to tear people down.
I have personality quirks, who doesn’t? When someone goes out of their way to sting home a point, I hold onto those biting words, turning the selfhate over and over in my mind trying to figure out why or what I did to this person to make them act this way towards me. I believe that her personal burdens of hurt, anger and disappointment run deep. Striking out at me eases her own self loathing I am guessing or perhaps it may fuel it. Either way I have been a willing target. It is my own fault. This person pretends to want closeness and friends but strikes out at people to keep them at arms length. She can be helpful as long as you are on guard for the payment she seeks. That jibe to your personality that she just can’t stomach. You’re too negative, or too funny or too cute or too smart. I have never met anyone like her and I hope someday to leave her and her pettiness behind. As I try to come to terms with what is going on with my Dad her words roll around in my head like an old album with a skip that you are sure won’t ruin the soundtrack. That skip bothers me a lot. WHAT ARE YOU GOING TO DO WITH YOUR LIFE WHEN YOU CAN’T USE YOUR DAD AS AN EXCUSE ANYMORE? hurtful, uncompassionate, cutting and true.
I put my life on hold to take care of my Dad. In more than a few ways he did become my excuses. I couldn’t go away for any length of time. I had to have a cell phone for those in case moments. I lost time from my job to run errands for him and take him to appointments. I lost time with my hubby and my friends. I forgot how to be in my own life. What am I going to do now that I can’t use Dad as an excuse? I honestly have no idea. I can read a book now whenever I want. I can go to dinner and a movie with friends. I can go on long walks in the evening with my bestie. I am free to become that girl I have always wanted to be. I am going to work on the things I want to be and the things I want for myself. Every new day opens with endless possibilities for amazing things to happen.