At this moment I am very tired, both physically and emotionally exhausted. As I mentioned yesterday it’s been a bumpy couple of weeks. I’m in the process of getting back on my game, emotionally speaking. But until I do I’m not comfortable guiding anyone anywhere.
But part of getting out of this dark place for me is a thought I had last night:
I consider myself a writer, and as such it is my job to go through these rough times, to feel every nuance of grief for the baby, anger and disappointment for the guy, worry for the house, fear of the bills, and a heck of a lot of frustration with myself. I can and probably should wallow in these emotions for a bit, but not very far past today, and then start to tease through them, follow the leads of emotion to their roots and discover what I can learn about myself through these issues.
I’m not good at everything. I’m bad at men, bad at money, bad at expressing myself other than on paper or the white glare of the computer screen. I use my issues as an excuse to not deal with my problems. When I get depressed I play mindless games constantly and then can’t sleep for the tetris bricks falling in my head. I don’t get cold easily but when I do I stay cold. I don’t get thrown easily but when I do I stay thrown.
I am a good friend, a good family member. I am a good writer and a “good” Unitarian Universalist, if there is such a thing. I have a strong inquisitive faith and clear politics but I’m always willing to listen to the other side.
Some things make me very angry. Most of these things I can’t fight and many of them I participate in. Such as judging people by their appearances.
I will not vote, on anything, without considering both sides first.
I did something good today. It’s personal, between myself and two other people, and I’m not going to go into it here for their sakes. But it is something that I can be proud of myself for. And I can feel the slightest lifting at the edges of this funk, the barest glimmering of light along the perimeter of this dark space. This is going to be one hell of a hard winter and I’m going to have to finally learn money and how to save it.
It’s a control thing with me. I’ve done it with food – at this point I’m confident I’m going to lose the rest of the weight, its only a matter of time. I can’t fall off the bus if there is no bus. I just eat carefully now, and less. That isn’t going to stop. So now I need to apply the lessons I’ve learned here to my cash flow. Spend carefully now, and less. And men. Give emotions carefully now, and less. And grief. Mourn carefully now. But not less.
