Extra! Extra! Read All About It!!

I cannot believe that July is already close to over. This summer has flown by faster than I ever thought possible. So much has been happening that it is difficult to even think of where to start. Yet, I don't really think that the things that have been happening are actually the most important to talk about. Nonetheless, I think I should probably just give you all some bullet points so you know where all of this is coming from.

• I found a practicum site! *and the crowd roars*
• My boyfriend's sons have been here for over a month and are nearing the half way point of their stay.
• I found a new preschool for my daughter
• I have a part time job and gave up my full time position that I had lined up for the fall
• I have found new inroads into the lives of those who matter most to me
• I officially have one year left of school

A lot. I know. Told ya, didn't I?


Well, I suppose that I should get on to the important stuff. Which is mainly that I am actually starting to feel that self control, awareness, empowerment coming back again. It has been hibernating for a while now. Trembling in the wake of my realization that eating disorders may not be my full purpose in this life after all. It has been a really turbulent year for me. But, all growth requires chaos and uncertainty.

I am finally starting to recognize that what I want is a life. Not a job. Not a wedding. Not a husband. Not a child. Not a degree. Not a certain number of friends. Not a hobby that defines me. Just a LIFE.

Sure, a lot of those things will make up my life. I wouldn't have one if I didn't have most of those things. Yet, there is something to be said for recognizing that your life is made up of certain special pieces rather than being defined by one piece in particular. I am the some total of my parts. Some of which will come and go over the many years that I have left in my life. So, I can't allow my self to flounder every time that happens.

I am essentially a person, not a role. The roles that I play are simply for my enjoyment and fulfillment. I desire perpetual change and growth and self-improvement. I do not do for the sake of doing. I do for the sake of being. My apologies for the esoteric nature of this subject matters. My intention is not to be aloof or snobbish. It is simply that the change that has occurred here is not an external one; but an internal perspective.

As much as I loved the person that I became after I had D and fully entered into my recovery, I must admit that she was still a shell. I was faking it until I made it. I was stronger on the outside; but still so very weak and apprehensive within. Anyone who knew me well could tell you that they saw that uncertainty in my eyes when decisions needed to be made or circumstances changed.

I really just have not been able to jive. I haven't had that spontaneity that was such a critical component of my personality.  My life had been such dark chaos in my sickness that I required consistency and certainty to be hopeful. I fell apart every time my routine was shaken because I feared that it would breed the dark chaos back into my life.

So, the last year was hard. Very hard. It was almost like another recovery for me. I had gone from one extreme to another. I had gone from defining myself by my addictions to defining myself by my education and career path. When I suddenly snapped out of this blissful vision of what I had thought it would be, I didn't have the means to hold it all together. What was left?

I had to scramble for the scraps and pieces and other things in my life that made me happy to keep the dark chaos at bay. I will admit that some days, weeks, months were better or worse than others. There are definitely times where, if I look back on them now, I was standing on the precipice.... about to nose dive. I just teetered there for stretches of time. Contemplating it. Wondering if I could actually jump. If I truly had enough to keep me together or if it had all just been some elaborate illusion that I had compiled for myself.

I never jumped.

I kept it together. Some moments more so than others. But, I kept it together. I managed to find reason and purpose in life without the American version of it. I didn't have a job or a specialty or a passion that I could draw strength and identity from. I just had me.



So, what may you ask is it that I have found to define myself? What has become my purpose?

It is so painfully simple. So ridiculous. It was there the whole time. Daring me to embrace it. To recognize who I was and what I needed.


Are you ready?


Really ready?



You sure............?



GROWTH

That's right.... I am growth.

If I look at my life. If I look at my values. If I look at how I approach everything. I am growth. I make choices that provide the greatest opportunity for growth and change. I value evolution and reinvention. Stagnation makes me panic. It is unattractive, unappealing, and dangerous. I feel like my days are wasted if I do not do or see or try something new.

I can't run from it anymore. I have to recognize that I will always need constant change and stimulation. That my stability will come from the knowledge and faith in my self that I can and will endure. That I have endured the most ghastly challenge of all: acceptance.

I don't need to make excuses for people. I don't need to pretend that I have it all figured out. I don't need to worry that I never will. I need to embrace that life is about the process of figuring it out. It is about always trying to be better and do better and see the most that life has to offer.

I can't travel forever. But what kind of relationships would I build?
I can't afford to be a daredevil. But what kind of courage does that really bring?
I don't have the time to be any sort of guru. But why do I need that to be happy?

I just have to live each day with the thought in mind that I will grow. That someway, somehow... I will always end my day feeling more enriched and fuller than when I started it. 

That is who I am. That is how I am in the room with another person. I am the eclectic one. I am eccentric and funky. Not because it is a front. Simply because I always try. I always do. Sometimes my values and ideas may clash and collide with one another. It isn't because I am disingenuous. It is just because I live in the moment and I feel my solutions. In some ways, that makes me more genuine and authentic. I have never, and probably never will, pick one set of rules or principles to subscribe to. It isn't me. 

I just grow. That's who I am.

=D

Our Children Are Our Present

Today, I would like to write about something that has taken a more prominent position in my life over the last several months. Although the subject of motherhood has been critical for me over the last decade or so, it has generally revolved around my issues related to it because of my mother. Admittedly, motherhood has been a more selfish than selfless topic for me in my life. Not something that I am proud of, but my reality nonetheless.

My daughter turned four years old a few weeks ago. She is my pride and joy. I know that a lot of parents say that about their children; but, for me, it is on a level that only a fraction of parents can truly understand.  I knkow that children change our lives regardless of where we are when we have them.  That is the nature of becoming a parent. For me, though, my daughter forced me to make a 180 in my life.  Her birth forced me to confront my body, my sexuality, the way I relate to men (and people in general), the way I approached life, the way I viewed my mother, and the way that I respond to stress on an everyday basis. I went from a lost child who was headed nowhere in this life to a woman that was unstoppable.  All because I had those big beautiful brown doe eyes looking up at me and believing in me.  Like nobody else had ever believed in me.

My daughter gave me life just as much as I gave her life. I do not look at her as owing me anything or as being indebted to me for all of my sacrifices.  I look at her and think "thank the powers that be that you came into this world exactly when you did and exactly as you are because you are the only person that I have ever truly needed and asked nothing from at the same time."

She has been my salvation. She is my present, future, and purpose.

I live everyday to make this world the place that I want it to be for her when she is an adolescent and a young woman. I don't tolerate gender roles. I don't tolerate anything that will make her feel like she is less capable than any other human being on this planet. I stand up for women. I stand up for bodies. I stand up for homosexuals. I stand up for Muslims. I stand up for Hindus and Buddhists and Christians and Jews and everyone who has ever been oppressed in this country or this world. I say what is right and what needs to be said. I don't give a damn about my reputation or my standing with others. I give a damn about the opportunities that she will have as a woman. I give a damn about how she feels about herself.

I have argued with so many men in my life about what I want them to be like around my daughter. I argue with myself about what I want myself to be like. I dress provocatively at times; but I try to do it with class. I am comfortable and proud of my femininity and sexuality because I want her to feel the same way about herself.  I tell her that she can do everything that women do and everything that men do and I show her how.

She helped me build a chair from Ikea the other night.  I taught her what an allen wrench was and how to use it.  I told her that if she wants to make it in a man's world then she needs to act like a woman in a man's world.  She should never turn her back on being a woman. She should revel in the fact that society tells her she can be both while men must remain only men.  I tell her this in ways that she can understand; but, the message is clear. Wear dresses. Like pink. Love My Little Ponies.  But don't you dare be afraid to play with nerf guns or learn about zombies. Do whatever you want to do regardless of who tells you that you should or should not.

Our children may be our future; but only if we believe it in the present. We cannot blindly have faith that they will turn out alright and that they will be strong. We cannot complacently believe that "I turned out just fine, so they will, too." You must remember the times when you almost didn't make it.  When if one little variable had been different, you would not be reading this right now. You must come to terms with the fact that this darling child sitting in front of you will one day be a tormented adolescent who needs to know who they are in order to survive in this world where so many odds are against them.

We must make the difficult decisions. We must have the patience and the grit to do the hard stuff. To have the awkward conversations. To tell them that "it is ok for boys to marry boys and girls to marry girls." Because, guess what? They may be gay and if you don't tell them that it is ok from the start, then they may hang themselves in their room one day because nobody ever told them it was. These are not pleasant thoughts. They are not warm and fuzzy. They are necessary. This is the world that we live in. It gets harder every single day. So make them stronger. Every. Single. Day.

I preserve her innocence. I do not take away from her childhood. It is precious. Yet, when opportunities arise. Those moments where the childish conversation can begin. Where the seed of strength and equality can be planted and nourished. You must seize them. You must have the balls to do it. Do not be afraid. They will still laugh and smile. They will make you prouder than you ever thought they could.

I will give you an example. I will tell you the moment when I realized that all of my efforts became apparently useful. When I realized that I was getting towards my goal: raising a strong woman, not a scared girl.

On her birthday, I gave her a tea set. It is the quintessential little girl toy. It encourages imaginative play, interpersonal relationships, fine motor skills, creativity, and language. It is a marvelous thing when you truly thing about it. Boys should have tea sets, too. At any rate, her is the scene that unfolded before me. So wonderful that it took me a solid two weeks to truly recognize all of the implications it had for who she was becoming.

Me: "Who are you going to invite to your tea party?"
Her: "You, and your friend, and grandpa...But not M."
Me: Oh. That's not very nice. You should invite him.

She ignores me and begins to set up her tea party. I wait a few minutes and revisit the subject.

Me: It really isn't nice to exclude one person from the tea party. You should really invite M, now.
Her: Ok. Mama.

She walks over to M. He is sitting in his desk chair on the other side of the living room.

Her: M, we need to have a talk.
M: *looks at me and raises his eyebrows* Ok. What do we need to talk about?
Her: You got silly string all over my dress and in my hair. I really didn't like that.
M: You're right. I'm sorry.
Her: You need to promise me that you will never do that again, because it upset me.
M: Ok. I promise I won't do that again. Can I come to your tea party now?
Her: No. We need to have a long talk until we understand each other.

It then deteriorated into nonsensical preschooler talk about things that he shouldn't do. It culminated in a pinkie promise and he joined our tea party.

I laughed hysterically and so did the rest of us at the time. Yet, the more I thought about it the more I was awestruck by her.  This little four year old went up to this big man and told him how she felt about something that he did.  She told him how she felt. She told him what he needed to do. She even told him that she was not done with the conversation yet. She wasn't satisfied with a simple apology. She still felt the need to express herself. Her sense of personal agency is miraculous. I nearly bring myself to tears when I speak about it now.  She is a wonderful little lady.

Yet, that interaction was not happen stance. That is the result of years of work on my part. Years of very hard work. I am an emotional woman. I am easily upset, hurt, angered, and frustrated. And I express it. I can be quite the blank canvas at times. I'm not overly touchy or anything. It is just that when my bucket tips, you know it.

I spent most of her infancy trying to hide my being emotional. That was what my mother always did. She only wanted us to see her happy. Which is nice. Yet, I grew up thinking that my tears and anger were wrong and unjustifiable and difficult to explain. I never had the ability to explain myself to people. I could not stand up to them and tell them that they had hurt me. I didn't know how. It was not modeled for me. Only raw undirected emotion.

So, one day, when she was a little over two.... I had a meltdown. Probably some argument with her father. I went to get it out behind closed doors and she came in and she hugged me and asked me why I was crying. She seemed frightened. I felt so guilty. She had never understood. She didn't know what it meant and she was afraid of my tears. Tears?! Something so normal and natural and wonderfully therapeutic. And she was distraught over seeing me like that. So, I explained it to her. I told her that I was going to be ok. That sometimes grown ups have complicated problems and that while we always figure them out, it can be upsetting sometimes. That crying helps me feel better and then I can do what needs to be done.

Ever since that day, I have "had a talk" with her whenever there has been a release of emotion around her. Whether she has thrown a fit, been in time out, I have been overly cranky and terse, or I have cried. I have sat down with her and explained it to her and reassured her that it was ok and everything would be fine. I have never told her what my problems are. I have always told her that they are "grown up problems and she doesn't need to worry about them." As she gets older, I will explain more of the things that I think are appropriate for her. But the point of this ritual is not for me to use her as someone to vent to. The point is to show her that emotion is ok. That she is allowed to cry or get angry and that it will pass.

Now, she tells me when she is upset. Now, she tells a man when he has upset her. Now, she is already more of a woman than I am. Now, she is my biggest achievement. Now, I can see that two years ago I made a decision to be different than my mother had been. I made the decision to teach her and prepare her and help her. Regardless of how difficult those first talks were (keeping a toddlers attention is not an easy task in that sort of dynamic), those efforts have been justified more than I had ever really imagined. I wasn't sure what I was doing at the time. I just knew that I didn't want her to be afraid or feel like there was something terribly wrong. I wanted her to understand humanity. I feel like I am succeeding at that.

So, try with your children. Give them more credit. Do everything that you can to make them the men and women that you want them to be today. Don't wait for tomorrow. Take the time. Use the energy. It is the best investment you will ever make. Talk to your grown ups about your grown up problems. But make sure your children know that grown up problems exist. Then, they will know that grown up problems can be solved.

A Bit More Clarity

I know that my last post was both intense and vague. That makes sense, since I knew what I was feeling but was uncertain about the details that were contributing to it. Sadly, I have to say that the contributing factors have turned out to be rather more dull than you would probably care for.

In short: I am freaking out about actually being able to be a good therapist.

I know... kind of lame.

I have been spending the last year or so working my butt off to meet all of my pre-requisites for my practicum placement.  Which really translates to I have been taking the last few courses that I will get before I am actually put in a room with some poor soul who believes that I can help them with their lives.  What's more is that poor soul could have some things wrong with them that are going to be a really fucking challenge for me to tolerate and work with.  Examples? addicts, adolescents, schizophrenics, philanderers, narcissists, histrionics... just to name a few

In short, I have been flipping out about whether or not I will actually be able to benefit from this career at the same level that I hope to benefit others. Will I scar someone? Will I scar myself?

As a result, I have been doing my good old favorite standby of self sabotaging escapism and avoidance.

I haven't done my resume.
I haven't researched sites.
I haven't applied.
I haven't had the courage to unclench my eyes and look.

It is truly a scary thing.  To suddenly be standing on the precipice of all that you have dreamed of and wanted for so many years.  To suddenly see all of the threats to your success rather than the factors that contribute to its possibility.

I am emotional.
I can be judgemental.
I have some strong belief systems.
I am impatient.
I hate lazy people.
I am very good at self monitoring... not so good at other monitoring
I talk too much
I have an overly active imagination
I can be dramatic
I mean well, but tend to push too hard too fast


I know that these are common traits with a lot of novice therapists.  But it really scares me. I have been a client for so long that I recognize the importance of a strong therapist.  I worry about the reverse of that situation and its potential consequences. I mean I still remember sentences that my therapist from middle school said. I still remember how it felt to sit in her office. The therapy room and process is so poignant. Do I really dare to take control of it??

I know that this probably isn't terribly applicable for everyone. Yet, I do think that my months of emotional repression and distraction and funneling into others rather than into myself are things that we can all relate to.  Even if the underlying reason is very much unique to me (and a few thousand other graduate students in clinical psychology).

Just wanted to get that out.... It is a trickle of thought for now.... The dam will come undone pretty soon. I am getting there.

It's Been a While

I have toyed around with shutting down this blog and moving on to another one with another theme. Recreating everything from ashes once again. Yet, something held me back. I couldn't bring myself to put down the message that I had been sending with this blog.  Even though I had stepped back from the entire mindset for so long, it was still active and cycling beneath the surface....

It took me a few months to really get a hold on what was going on with my psyche and my entire philosophy on life.  Everything was reorganized and restructured and cleaned out.  The process has been trying and uncertain.  There have been more times in recent months than in recent years that I have doubted where this path that I was on would lead.

It took my doing something that I had forgotten I enjoyed to snap me back into my mind.  It isn't an easy thing to understand what is happening inside your own head.  You would think that it was; but it really isn't.  As such, it usually takes something that is external and impactful to jump start us back onto the path of recognition... of cognizance.

Let me Tarantino this for you...

I was sitting here watching the Colbert Report with my boyfriend and Macklemore & Ryan Lewis came on promoting their album.  I honestly had never really heard of them before.  In truth, I am far more up to date with innovations in laundry detergent than I am with today's music scene.  It's sad.  Anyway, I decided that I liked their music and their message.  I went with it and actually bought their album on iTunes.  As it downloaded, I got the idea to sit and listen to their album... just like in middle school.

It took all of two songs for my mind to pause and clear.  It was only a split second of silence amidst the constant hurricane that is the modern day brain.  Yet, I was able to see so much in that pause.  I suddenly recognized what I have been doing these last few months... Growing... Exploring... Testing.

I am one of those people that fears change and rebels against it.  I am also a perpetual masochist and seem bound and determined to expose myself to mild pain at all times.  Thus, I am also someone that perpetually seeks out evolution and change... which makes me very uncomfortable.  I tend to just duck my head down and go blindly into the storm.  Champ it out.

These last six to ten months or so have been treacherous.  I have been going through a number of changes and evolutions.  The anxiety has been mounting.  The discomfort has been getting to be unbearable.  I have had to duck my head down lower and lower to navigate my way through.  Such a lack of vision has kept me from even absorbing all that I have already done.  To allow the accomplishments soak in and experience some level of true satisfaction. Of peace.

In that pause in my mind, I was able to recognize it all.  To see the progress that I have made.  To really look around and absorb everything that I have done... How different my life has become as a result of it.  How much I actually like what I have managed to create.  How little I actually have to be so anxious about.  How much I have to be truly excited about and proud of in my life....

How far I still have to go.

I just need to figure out how to change my methods a little bit.  This presence is something that I have truly been missing. I have experienced a serious amount of discomfort over the inability to be here. 

It feels good to be back home.

=D

I am NOT Superwoman

I got into a bit of a tiff with my boyfriend on Thanksgiving. Ok. Not really a tiff so much as a "why the hell do you not understand why I am so fucking exhausted and worn thin" talk....

I explained to him that I don't like when people call me superwoman. It pisses me off. It makes me feel dehumanized. As though nobody seems to recognize that my life is driving me damn near the brink of insanity at least once every two weeks. I don't put up statuses about how busy I am to get props from people. I put them up in hopes that someone will be like "damn. she needs a break... maybe we should grab coffee or drink". Yet, I constantly get shit like "if anyone can do it, then you can" or "superwoman just got owned".... Screw you guys. That's not what I need.

I know that I can do it. It isn't an option. I have responsibilities that I do not intend to hang up the towel on. Nor do I have the option. However, it would be nice to get someone to go out of there way for me every now and again.

Hence what my disagreement with my boyfriend was about.

I go and go and go from 7am until 11pm (if I am lucky) damn near every day of the week. From chores to errands to bathtime to papers to cases to cooking to bedtime. It simply does NOT end. Every. There is no such thing as a real break that exists without some level of guilt for me. If I take a break to do something for me... It inevitably comes at the expense of sleep or responsibilities. Which catch up with me and bring me to the brink.


So, I will take whatever help I can get whenever I can get it and from whomever is offering... Unfortunately, few people offer.

I am recognizing the futility of my efforts in certain areas. I have accepted that the laundry will never stay done and the dishes will always be dirty. I have accepted that I will inevitably forget to brush my daughter's teeth at least twice a week. I have also come to terms with the reality that I cannot possibly read all of the chapters that my professors assign to me. It isn't possible if I value any of my sanity. I also cannot take on every damn case or job opportunity that comes my way. Nor can I be a mentor or head up a research team. I probably won't be able to go straight into my PhD. I can't afford it and my sanity probably won't permit it.

I also can't be the friend that is always touching base or trying to make plans. I can't be the perpetual hostess or provide the best Christmas presents to everyone that I care about. Some nights it is OK to bake cookies that aren't from scratch. It is also acceptable to just eat a mother fucking pizza when there is no food in the house.

I do not have to have a life for the record books. I just need to have a life that is worth living. One that I enjoy and find fulfillment in...

Sadly... there are few things that I do that are not because I feel like I have to.

I am so goal oriented it is despicable. It is the only way that I know how to function sometimes. I try to work on it buuut I am not always successful in my attempts. I think that blogging may be one of the few things that I do for no reason other than to let the negative energy out. Because that feels good.

I should do more of what feels good.... and find a way to not feel guilty for it.

Life is Beautifully Fickle

I have had an extremely challenging week. Everyday was full of challenges in different realms. Tuesday and Wednesday challenged my relationship. Thursday broke my family and my heart. Friday shook my health. Today, I feel as though I have opened my eyes again. I don't know exactly why or what element of this week shook me awake; but it did.


Halloween has been my favorite holiday since I was a child and I found myself lacking in enthusiasm this year. I had been stoked on it for weeks. I knew what my daughter's costume would be and how I would pull it all together. I thought I knew where I was going trick or treating and who with. Then, the conversation I had with my boyfriend the night before came to haunt my psych ninja mind. I couldn't drop it. I had to investigate. Which never leads me in a good direction. Yet, I tend to have this problem with being stubborn and bullheaded.

The end result?

I was drained of all life force before I even picked my daughter up. I did my best to rally my enthusiasm and push through it. Unfortunately, my health was already beginning to falter on me. My head ached and my mouth wasn't far behind. I just floated through the evening. My daughter had a good time. Yet, I know that I should have done better. I didn't prioritize appropriately.

Thursday morning I had to get my daughter to the optometrist. Just as I was getting into the "let's get dressed" portion of the morning, three kids knocked on my door. They didn't look happy. They didn't have See's candy bars. Shit....

Sure enough... My precious kitty had been struck by a car. Right by the curb. Sometime between 1 and 8 am. I saw her playing with my puppy the night before. I could almost swear that I had seen her early in the morning but it was all a haze. I walked out to make sure it was her.... My heart just shattered. My daughter didn't understand. I just sobbed.... for about an hour and a half.

My sweet sweet little girl did her best to calm me down. She reversed roles on me. I don't handle loss or change or grief very well. I am a bucket tipper. I couldn't keep the floodgates back. I felt responsible. I didn't want her outside. We couldn't prevent it because of our dog's need for a doggie door. Yet, I still felt like it was my fault... our fault... that I should have been more insistent about my wishes for how she was housed. That I wanted my wishes respected. That my knowledge had been under recognized. That I had bowed my head and accepted circumstances rather than fought for what I knew was right. I paid for my cowardice.... Rather my kitty did. She would have been a year the day she was killed :(


Thursday night my mouth started aching... I woke up two or three times in the middle of the night. It was excruciating. I called the nurse hotline Friday morning... practically in tears from the pain. Long story short. I went from a Parent Teacher Conference to the Oral Surgeon's office.... I got all four of my wisdom teeth removed yesterday afternoon. I was scared and in pain. I'd never been under anesthesia before. I gave my daughter a big hug and kiss and went in. My amazing father was there to pick me up. He took me home and then went out to get my prescriptions and hunted down matzo ball soup for me. I barely had to ask him. He knew that I needed the help. He was there. Like always. Yet, I know that won't last forever.


Last night I was sitting on the couch. I was suddenly struck by the one thing that I felt would help me tie everything together that was lacking. I need purpose. I need something to do with my daughter. I need something to show my knowledge and my opinions. I need something with endless love and affection. Something stable and dependent upon me that is not unhealthy. I need a puppy. My own puppy.

The dog that is currently in my home is my boyfriend's. I didn't train her. I didn't make the final decisions when it came to anything for her. Be it her food or her crate training. I will with this puppy. I started hunting last night and woke up this morning emboldened to search the local rescues. I reluctantly woke my sleeping boyfriend and convinced him to go with me before he went to work. I found him. He is a lab/collie mix. He is black and has longer hair. Not long, just enough to have a little wave with it. His chest is white with little black and grey specks. He is tiny for a lab mix. About 9 weeks and maybe 5lbs. His paws are pretty small. I think he will be around 35-40lbs. He was mellow and comforted the more worried pups in his litter. He has big sad black eyes and little eyebrows. He is perfect. They got him from a high kill shelter. I will make him my final recovery dog. Go figure....

My sister obviously thinks that I am nuts. That I am being spontaneous. I am not. I have wanted my own dog for years. I have helped two boyfriends with theirs and taken a back seat. I will foster my daughter's sense of responsibility and teach her how to care for another. I will have someone who will always be glad to see me. That will take some pressure off of my human loved ones. I need a companion. My own companion. So, I will pick him up Friday after work.

I feel as though I have opened my eyes to my own needs. That I have stopped caring about practicality or playing it safe or what others want. I need to take what I want out of everyday. I have done all that I can to ensure that I have the love of those in my life. I need to sit back and wait and see. That is all that is left.


However, I am someone who is constantly in need of a project and a challenge. So, I will look to my darling puppy for that. I can't wait until Friday :)

When it Comes to Life....

There is something that my father always tells me... That I always seem to forget until he says it again

"Just remember, dear, like everything else... this too shall pass."

I have finally gotten to an age where I do not begrudge my father for being right. I am more towards the age where I know I will be lost without him being there to tell me when I am wrong...


If one thing is for certain, it is that nothing ever is.... that is what my father is always trying to impress upon me. That you cannot cling to much of anything... only savor it for what it is in that moment.... because odds are that it will change in the blink of an eye.... everything shall pass.


Fittingly enough, when it comes to his daughters.... we both crave certainty.... Nothing makes my sister or I more anxiety ridden when there is uncertainty in our lives.



You can tell me that: my identity has been stolen, I have stage 4 cancer, my boyfriend has left me, and my cat has been run over....... I can handle that..... I can not handle being told "we don't know".


There is something in me that tells me that this is my great lesson in life... A lesson that my father has impressed upon me as being of the utmost importance in my life... To just let things be


I am trying.... The last couple of days.... I am trying


Just to get my strength back.... to fight through the fog and the uncertainty and to focus on that which is certain

• laundry will always exist
• my daughter will always challenge my resolve
• cooking (onions will always turn translucent if you put them over medium heat with salt)
• that my boyfriend is there when I go to sleep and when I wake up
• that I have a few friends who still answer their phones when they find time
• few things bring me greater joy than learning something about the human condition

I am trying....

I didn't skip breakfast or lunch today.... that's a decent start...

*sigh*


I really do hate feeling like I am back to the beginning again....

Remember, dear..... this too shall pass