Tangled, tongue-tied. And how friends are like combs …
Well, well, well.
Once again, the universe responded to my venting with a loving, ‘why do you keep forgetting that you are not forgotten?!’ moment.
I don’t know how many more of them I get – so I should probably fix whatever it is that needs fixing before I use them all up.
After the dam broke, I flailed a little in the deluge of feelings until I came up for air gasping.
Having purged onto my blog – I found the motivation to check on dinner. I was plating when my dog started barking – unable to ‘nose’ her way out, I left the kitchen to open the front door for her.
She startled as a friend of mine came walking in.
(This gives me pause for thought by the way – Butters the Brave is never going to be inscribed on her collar. Any serial killers out there should probably know that they have safe passage into my house simply by stepping around the barking manatee – could you just not wake me up to kill me? Thanks.)
I didn’t startle.
This is the sort of friend that does just walk in. And I like it.
I compared her after our chat to Batman. (okay, mostly I was chatting and she was listening – which was just what I needed)
Only better – because I never have to put a signal up into the sky – she just seems to know when I need her. She’s like a Jedi friend. She senses a disturbance in the force and just shows up.
“I came to check on you – you didn’t look good Monday.”
Did I mention she also doesn’t pull any punches?
She had come into the office on business, shortly after I had been on the curb trying to steady my heart and my breathing and regain the vision in my right eye.
We had stood around the candy bowl in the reception area and chatted for a little while.
Last night we reenacted that scene – only on my couches with my little candy bowl between us.
It was sweet.
(Sorry – couldn’t resist)
After I purged and she listened – occasionally offering insight – I felt so much better.
But what I noticed was that I have the hardest time orally. I can never adequately sum up what is running through my odd little head when it comes to speaking.
My mind is trying to process what it is I’m thinking and feeling and why, the whole time I’m trying to form a sentence!
And I just can’t ever find the right words.
I’m analyzing everything that I know I want to say, before I say it.
This results in me being 10 thoughts ahead of the one that I started to convey when I opened my mouth. It’s bonkers. I get tongue-tied.
I was reminded of my poem Mute.
So true.
The most wonderful thing about thinking out loud to a friend is that the problems start to loosen and all the confusing knots start to get worked out. Friends are like combs.
I couldn’t put my finger on exactly WHAT was the source of my sadness – but we got closer.
I’ve said it before, and it bears repeating: Unless I acknowledge what’s bothering me – examine it and find a solution – it’s not going to go away. And I don’t grow.
Constantly stuffing my feelings and ignoring problems with a fake smile – doesn’t get me anywhere and only results in more tangles.
Another friend, who just returned from Germany (God I missed her!) sent me a quote today that I loved.
“To carry a grudge is like being stung to death by one bee” – William H. Walton.
So true.
And not just for grudges. To carry a fear or any unresolved issue will eventually diminish your capacity to live your life to the fullest and eat away at your serenity.
So what have I learned this time?
- I don’t have to be alone. I choose it – I need to choose to let people in
- Butters is a useless guard dog
- Candy bowls make for great conversation center pieces
- I need to work on my verbal communication skills
- No more stuffing my feelings
And most importantly, I have the most amazing friends.
Now, if I had antibiotics for my ears, I’d be golden.
Then the dam broke
“It’s just everything – it’s worrying about Christmas, and the car … and always having to worry about things like that – it’s doing it alone, but I wouldn’t have it any other way – what we have … and not feeling well and not being able to go to the doctor – it’s being stressed out and not having someone to talk to about it. Because they’re going to tell me not to feel a certain way when I DO feel that way. It must be okay to feel that way if I feel it?? It’s when people ask “Feeling better?” with a raised eyebrow because your answer had better be ‘yes’ … it’s not being allowed to feel sad because you’re the person who makes people laugh. And on top of it all, I don’t feel well. And I’m sad. I’m just … sad. And no, it’s not forever – and yes, it will pass and I’m so grateful – I’m grateful for everything we have and everything we don’t have … but I’m just … sad. And I should be allowed to feel sad.”
– Me, after telling my son I couldn’t possibly vent to him.
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I left work early today.
I couldn’t take one more second of holding myself upright when all I wanted to do was curl into a ball. I put a smile in my voice on the phone … and in front of customers who came into my office. I went above and beyond on my files – went in early today and cleaned. I pushed and pushed – and broke.
Monday I had a pretty bad ‘spell’ at work. Besides my heart condition – I think my body also tells me when it’s done holding things in.
My vision blurred in my right eye and my chest squeezed. I couldn’t get my bearings. I sat outside on a curb, taking purposeful breaths and feeling the wind on my skin until the spell mostly passed and went back in to work.
That’s what I do.
Remove myself, compose myself and return.
Yesterday I came very close to asking to use my barely used sick time. But I stuck it out. My ears have been hurting me – I’m dizzy and nauseated. But I stuck it out.
This morning, I came even closer to asking to use my barely used sick time – then remembered I had a meeting and had to approve a settlement statement so that a customer could sign their documents. So I went in.
I tied all the loose ends up and emailed both of my bosses asking to use 1/2 of a sick day.
The answer was yes.
I read an article yesterday on a hospice website. About the phases of death. I was making sure I was using ‘catabolic’ correctly in my last post. A catabolic state is when your body can no longer process nourishment – it’s so starved for it – it starts breaking itself down.
That’s how I understood it anyway.
And that’s how I have been feeling. Like there has been no nourishing input lately – that I’m sustaining myself and breaking down all my reserves.
So after my grand monologue that I wasn’t going to give in front of my son, I ended with, “I just want to hear ‘everything is going to be ok'”
To which my son replied, “Everything is going to be ok”
And when he hugged me – I sobbed harder. And he didn’t tell me I wasn’t allowed to feel sad.
I love him so very much.
The sky this morning
Catabolic hearts and Candy Corn pencils
I spent last night with a few tears – and like a child in need of comfort, I also grabbed a blanket and my bear.
Yesterday brought joy and sadness, love and aloneness, hope and fear. And sometimes, it’s all just too much to process.
It wasn’t due to any one thing in particular – things build over time to overflowing and when there is no outlet – blanket and bear come into play.
I joke about saying too much – about not editing myself. But the fact is, I keep so much inside that it hurts sometimes.
You know when someone notices that you’re out of sorts and hugs you? That dam that bursts because of that hug?
I feel like life (and, yes, me too) constantly plugs up my dam with no relief in sight.
When I desperately need a hug.
And to be heard.
And seen.
I posted this on my Facebook wall this afternoon – after a day of feeling unwell physically, but mostly overwhelmed emotionally.
I did this because I felt safe putting it there, I am very selective about who my ‘friends’ are on Facebook. People that know me and ‘get me’ are privy to my mostly quirky, sometimes funny and often odd status updates.
I don’t have friends I don’t trust.
What I really wanted to do was write about it here though. So I’m going to.
I have a lot on my plate and on my mind. A lot weighing on my heart also.
I find it necessary, again, to reiterate that I am a happy person – and a grateful person – and a loving person. And I know what is important in life.
But I am also a human person.
I used to think it was not okay to permit myself to feel my sadness. That I was somehow being ungrateful by doing that.
I know not to wallow in it – not to become melancholic – but it is necessary to feel. Denying myself permission to acknowledge sadness or fears is not healthy. And there is no growth when one does not acknowledge, assess and address a feeling or emotion.
Still, lately I’ve pent everything up. Putting one foot in front of the other and plugging away at life, while I tackled real and imagined problems alone.
The soul has this amazing ability to take a lot of crap from us – but has its limit. I reached mine.
Then I came home to mail.
Real mail.
Not just an envelope either – a small package.
It was from a dear friend in California (she actually taught me how to do what I do for a living over 14 years ago!)
Inside – was this letter, the sweet pencil and a bag of Halloween candy:
Here I was questioning whether I am worthy of love – and I receive this sweet, sweet gift. That she knows me so well – that something reminded her of me – that she made the effort to go the extra mile and purchase the item and tell me that she thought of me … such love.
And to want to feel connected to me.
What a blessing to have such friends.
I’ll take the pencil to work with me tomorrow and put it somewhere I can look at it as a reminder.
And because it touched me so – my heart can’t possibly be in a catabolic state. It’s still capable of processing love.
It’s just scared.
Musings from the Laundromat: Cake, foot-in-mouth and Mr. Stare edition
Had to do some serious motivational speeches in my head this morning to get out of bed and to the laundromat. Mostly they consisted of: ‘when you get everything done, you can have cake.’
Some were more along the lines of ‘You get out of life what you put into it’ and ‘you’ll feel better after your chores are done and you can relax’ but, mostly they all ended with cake.
So here I am. Things weren’t looking good when I arrived.
Someone was at my table. (‘My’ table, lol)
Not just anybody – but a male who, I felt looking at me the whole time I was putting my items in the washing machines. I tried not to look up, but eventually had to and when I made eye contact, he didn’t break it!
Creeped me out. I felt his stare and could see his focus on me in my peripheral vision.
I hurried to the rainbow umbrella table and stared ahead. At this lovely sight.
Yes, the laundromat bathrooms are ready for Halloween. Good grief.
Normally this would please me – but sitting under the giant rainbow umbrella juxtaposed with staring at such a dank, yellowed, dismal view left me feeling uncomfortable.
Especially since Mr. Stare was still staring at me from MY table.
The view and the sensation were about as pleasant as finding a Band Aid in the dryer, after drying your clothes and knowing no one at your house injured themselves.
Yeah.
That kind of unpleasant.
Anyway – he’s gone now.
So back to motivation and cake.
My son’s girlfriend turned 19 yesterday and when they returned from a day at her house and dinner – they sat and we chatted and laughed AND … she had brought me a piece of saved cake.
It wasn’t until she left and Nic squirreled his way under my tin foiled treasure, that it was revealed in all it’s cakey glory that it came with candles.
How adorable is that? Who thinks to leave them in?
Well, it certainly had the appropriate number of candles because I behaved as if I were three yesterday.
I have this annoying habit of speaking my mind.
I really try not to! I do!
I sit myself down and explain why it is not a good time to bring something up, or why I should not say what’s on my mind. I nod at myself and agree – then proceed to do it anyway.
I infuriate me sometimes. But I can never stay mad at me long.
So the weekend has pretty much consisted of me behaving like a 3 year-old – being extra emotional – feeling insecure, crying at animal videos and craving cake.
Wonderful.
Even Butters has been in an odd mood. She took herself off to bed last night after giving up waiting on me and she’s doing her really good imitation one of those poor, unloved animals you see on those gut wrenching commercials.
Notice she’s being very ‘unloved’ from her spot on my bed. Which I’m allowing even though she’s shedding like crazy.
I’m hoping to cheer myself and the dog up by cleaning when I get home with the laundry and letting some light and fresh air into the house.
And! By removing the foot from my mouth and inserting cake.
A Mile in Gifted Shoes
I’m wearing someone elses shoes today. Literally.
The benefit to being one of only three people in my company with sized 10 feet, is getting new shoes that for whatever reason didn’t fit the other two (or would it technically be four?) sized 10 feet.
I’ve never been a shoe girl.
I don’t spend a lot of money on clothes or shiny things either.
I have to admit it’s been a treat having a choice of footwear.
I was thinking and taking my thoughts on a tangent walk (as I tend to do) about ‘walking in someone elses shoes’.
That old saying “Never judge someone until you’ve walked a mile in their shoes” – I really try to live that way.
(Of course, the researcher that I am, I had to find out where that quote came from, and it wasn’t easy! Rumor has it the original quote was Native American and more like: ‘Do not judge a man until you’ve walked two moons in his moccasins.’)
Well, moccasins, shoes, boots, slippers – no matter. I truly try to remind myself that I do not know why someone behaves, acts or thinks the way that they do.
I also find myself imagining the worst case scenario for them.
As if they need a really, really good reason for their poor choices or actions.
From the simple, ‘perhaps they’re late to work’ when someone cuts me off on the road, to ‘perhaps they were not loved’ when someone treats others cruelly.
I wonder though, at what point is a person simply responsible for changing their faults, big or small, and not get to excuse them with their past?
At some point, doesn’t somebody have the right to tell another, “your behavior is unacceptable and you need to decide to change it.”
Perhaps not.
(I hope it’s obvious I’m not referring to criminal behavior or a child that needs correcting.)
Perhaps the closest we get is telling someone, “Your behavior is unacceptable and I am no longer going to be subjected to it.”
It’s none of my business how others live their lives – but it is completely my business and my responsibility to decide what I am willing to allow in my life.
I have a hard time with that.
I have some toxic relationships that I should sever, but for many reasons, I have not.
Is this where I get to play the ‘don’t judge my decision until you’ve walked a mile in my shoes’ card?
Or is this the moment when I realize my cowardice is unacceptable and I have to make a change?
Maybe I’ll feel braver when one of my fellow tall, big footed friends passes on a pair of steel toed boots to me.
Until then – I’ll tread lightly.
Debauchery Soup 