the reset button has been pushed. I am sitting in my office typing this, trying to figure out what to tell you about my post from the other day. I am fine. I know sometimes I can be very dark. I know that you lovely people have worried for me. I AM OKAY! I guess I scared my hubby as well, my bad. I have anger issues. I have had this problem even before I knew what an issue was. I have never learned to deal with myself in an appropriate calming manner. I am sorry if I scared anyone that was not my intention. I BLOG as self therapy. I sit here pouring my heart out to the great cosmos like I am having the best conversation ever with someone in my life that “gets” me, the whole me, the weird me, the wonderful me, the funny, odd, complex me that is ME! I had a best friend. She was my ride or die; until she died in a car accident. Now when I am writing I pretend I am sitting across from her where we used to hang out and chat. I am in my life, most days. I love what is in my life, most days. I even like my job, most days; but sometimes I veer off course. I don’t know why. Maybe I am more like my mother than I like to admit.
I get overwhelmed. I run out of ideas about how to make things better. Sometimes there is more stress than fun. Sometimes there are life events that are beyond my control. I react to them badly. I may be “OLD” but there will always be a learning curve. If only life were a TV sitcom. I could go to Mike Brady and seek counsel but TV is TV. When has Hollywood ever actually saved the day in the real world or made you a better person? Never, at least not to my knowledge.
I need to focus more of my energies on things that bring me JOY. I want all of the people in my life to know that your support, love, friendship and comedy routines mean everything to me. I LOVE you all. I know you are there if needed. I hope you know that I am your ride or die chick (no crime sprees though). I am here if you need me…
Never Give Up On The Person You Are Meant To Be…
Often I have sat on this side of my keyboard waxing poetic about the goings on in my life or the spinnings of my mind. I started on this writing journey with the thought that I could rediscover myself by sharing my soul with a close friend. I only ever intended to ride the bus not pick up the passengers but here we are. I try to write something new every Friday night. I write about whatever I find floating around in my grey matter. I post my finished musings onto my Facebook page and if I am lucky a few fellow bloggers happen upon my post or they find a keyword tag that sends them to my blog. Thanks for all the follows and good vibes. ; )
I guess what surprises me the most is how similar we all are. I have had more than one friend/follower/co-worker ask me or comment to me about how I seem to be able to “know” how they are feeling. Honestly I don’t; but, I know how I feel. I kept all those “feelings” to myself for years because I was afraid of being judged for being real. Well, guess what, too bad so sad, we all have stories to tell. Some are funny, some are poignant, some are just depressing. It’s all Okay. Any one who is truly in your life already knows the hot mess that you are and they choose to love you anyway so why not “love” yourself? Be in your moments, invite the neighbors, make new friends…
I have reached that magical time in my life where I finally feel like I have something to give to others. Turns out it is me. = ) Who knew? I sure in Hell didn’t for a really LONG time. It is a great time to be alive but only if you are willing to live a little, love a lot and forgive shit you can’t change or control.
I try to blog once a week. Last week I JUST wasn’t feeling it. I was tired, grumpy, and I hate to say it; I felt like the little old lady I am slowing turning into. While I was growing up I dreamt of being older, I never realized someday I WOULD BE! I guess you could say I’m living the dream!
Never Give Up On The Person You Are Meant To BE !!!!
A WW leader once said to me that without try….there would be no triumph. I am trying to put a little more umph into my try. Last week I maintained at the scale. Still a victory, though at the time it felt hollow. Like when you are voted club president and there are only three of you; hollow. I went home a little down but I have not given up. I have been thinking.
What is success? I know what it reads in the dictionary. I define success as working towards a desired goal. I am the goal, not my weight. I want to be the best example of myself. When I smile I want it to be real not painted on to make someone else happy. I want to feel like I have done the best for me. I measure my successes with the small things. My bath towel goes a little further around my middle, no more of my kibbles and bits sneaking out. My clothes are beginning to feel less snug all around. I have more energy. My level of self belief has grown. I am excited about what is next on this journey.
I had lost faith in the power of me. It has been a long road back to finding that little girl that lives in my soul. She is the light in the tunnel of my mind, my guide through the rough patches. She carries the truths of who I am. She holds onto my hopes, my joy and the wonderment of being alive that sometimes gets lost amongst the chaos of being a grown up. She keeps the best things about me safe for when I remember I deserve to be happy; that I am worthy of success.
What is success? Never giving up on the person you are meant to be.
I have never put much faith into a hug. Confining in nature almost claustrophobic for me. I do not have a great personal history with hugging. In fact, I would say it is one of my greatest weaknesses. My kid sister was the only person who’s hug I would accept. She had a way about it. She’d hang onto me like our lives depended on it. Almost as if she knew there was a storm coming. Her hugs meant the world to me because she put so much of herself behind that embrace.
Something has changed in me lately, perhaps it is because my Dad is in a nursing home. I have had a change of heart about hugging. A true hug should be given free of will and with a depth of meaning to it from you for the one you hug. There a few residents where my Pops now hangs out that feel the need to hug me. I hug them willingly. Like small children these souls hug from their hearts. Overflowing with love for someone they once knew. Some days these people think I am their loved one. They ask me about children I don’t have; husbands and grandchildren that are not mine. I go along with their alternate reality the best way I know how by not rocking the boat. People with dementia or Alzheimer’s are still who they used to be somewhere in their minds. Everybody needs love and affection.
My Pops is the same even if his memories falter or the endings to his stories change. I try to hug him more than I have in the past. I think we both need it more. I miss him. I never realized before how much power comes from such a little thing. A hug makes the weary less tired. To the sad it lends hope. To the loved it spreads an untethered joy. To the lonely a sense of inclusion, that someone cares. To the lost a ray of light showing a safe way. Hug someone today.