It’s a little bit funny…

It’s funny, I have written on this blog so many times about the cathartic nature of the writing. How it nurture’s my soul and frees me from the daily struggles that I face. And yet as therapeutic as it has been I see that it has diminished in its urgency. I used to need to come here and vent, now I do when I feel the world is squeezing me. I don’t know what that means for my future as a blogger, but it’s something I noticed this morning on my drive into work.

My life remains in a slightly chaotic state, juggling my financial responsibilities, my volunteer responsibilities and my home life. It’s been a huge task the last few weeks not to give in and crawl into bed, I have not given in to it, but have turned toward living my life instead.

I went over to a friends on Friday and laughed, I haven’t done that in a long time. I continued to make plans, took my Grandma out so she could start her Christmas shopping, she can’t drive anymore. I am working on my plans and budget to get out of our hellish mortgage, and I have had to swallow a lot of pride and realize that this mess we are in is fixable, but not without doing the work. It’s been a week of realizations. Some of which have literally made me want to slap my forehead and say “duh”.

As I breathe deeply to take on my next task I realize that I am better. Not just subjectively, but I think overall better. I am not ready to give up my weekly therapy sessions, I still have so much to learn. Right now I am learning about me, and I am learning to be a better wife, a better friend and a good Aunt. I am trying to learn the art of the word No, but with tact. I have no trouble being a bitch. I still need my meds, I do feel better being on them. I never thought I would.

The sting of not having children has diminished too. I truly thought I would hurt forever and obsess with having babies. I am now to the point I have grieved for the loss and can look objectively at about 80% of pregnant women and not hate them instantly for having what I cannot. As I said, I am a work in progress.

My family is still slightly fractured, and I haven’t talked about that on here in any detail, and I won’t start now. I am worried about Thanksgiving, and what the table is going to feel like. I am doing my part to make it smooth, but I don’t know. And for me not knowing is sometimes worse than anything I can dream up in my head.  I know that if my Mom comments she will tell me not to borrow problems, I promise Mom I am not trying too. It’s just one of  those errant thoughts that sneak up on me when I am sitting quietly contemplating my next move or the next 100.

I think one of my biggest problems right now is I want the immediate result of whatever I am working on. Or I want the resolution with those I have problems with, I want definitive answers not the cliff hangers that life provides daily. I just want a clear path forward and the truth is it just doesn’t exist. Relationships, family, friends these are not straight clear paths, they require work and time and patience. That is something I have asked God for a very long time, patience. It’s something I am unable to achieve without a serious amount of work. Maybe the peace I seek is really going to be found in patience. In resting in the moment instead of anticipating the next. I suck at that. Blame it on the ADD or the fact that suspense is not my favorite feeling, or fear of what will happen, I don’t know.

I guess what I am trying to say in my long-winded way. I continue to work on me, and the speed bumps that slow me down continue to teach me lessons I didn’t know I needed to learn. When I cry now, it is for the hurt in that moment, not for the thousands I have stored up from the past. Like a said, some improvement, some forward momentum. My journey continues, and I hope to still find the same satisfaction when I sigh deeply and end my post for today.



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