Dancing out of the cage
I spent this weekend relaxing, for the most part – and at one point, dancing! By myself in the living room.
Just because I could I suppose, but also because the weather is mild and there was (and still is) a mellow breeze in the air.
This is the calm before the ‘heat storm’.
Calm climate brevity.
It won’t last long. Soon I’ll be plugging the fans back in and paying extortion type rates for electricity to run the A/C
Also now regretting ‘the bangs’. Shortly they’ll be wet and plastered to my head.
Began reading again.
The WIFI in the laundromat has been touchy. Today wasn’t working at all and in anticipation of this, I packed a book.
The thing is – I stopped doing things I used to love a while ago.
When was the last time I wrote in my diary? Last time I painted? Last time I grabbed my camera and left the house in search of something wonderful?
My life used to revolve around my kid and now … I’m stuck with myself.
When people say (and, I must be odd enough for them to actually say this) “I wonder what it’s like in your head”. I respond with “Well, don’t go in there unattended”.
And now here I spend all my home time doing just that.
I feel like a bird in an open cage – choosing to stay inside.
There are amazing days. Revelations and epiphanies. Also darkness and fear.
It’s like a ginormous abacus is before me and I’m pushing the beads – weighing pro’s and con’s – trying to calculate my future (as if I have a say in that ultimately).
I’m no spring chicken anymore. People I love have passed. People I love are sick.
I have health issues myself – a few I haven’t shared with anybody and I’m afraid to know more about. Ignorance is bliss no?
My patience wears thin at those around me with no gratitude. No sense of urgency to enjoy their abilities or what they have. Or, to push further to have more connection to what is really important!
My go to example is the bank.
When there’s a line and I hear someone whining about standing in it all I can think is:
There are people who would give anything to stand in this line! Seriously.
The ill and the housebound.
Just to have the ability to stand unaided – without pain. Even just to BE at a bank, which, clearly means you’re there for a financial transaction.
Those with nothing wouldn’t mind that particular inconvenience.
Sadly, I haven’t been living up to my potential either. So, rather than be a hypocrite, I’m owning that and sharing it with you.
I’ve let my very humble home go – when it comes to deep cleaning.
I’ve lost joy in things I used to love.
But this peri-Summer breeze is a gentle awakening.
I want myself back!
And I want MORE for me.
Not more ‘stuff’ – in fact, I need to purge my life of a great deal of material things.
I want … Hope.
I want to feel like I contributed at the end of a day.
I want the people I love to FEEL it without any doubt.
I want to get pulled back into books and to be a better writer.
I haven’t been proud of anything I’ve written in a very long time – and I used to be good.
Admitting that alone is huge!
And, I want to dance in my living room.
LIVE in my ‘living’ room and not just beach myself on my Chaise Lounge with a remote control in my hand.
Time to get my finger off the pause button and press play.
Super Bawl Sunday …
My kidlet has been gone a month.
I’ve had ‘compliments’ handling this from my bosses.
Truth is – I’m still rocked. My entire world is rocked. I hide it, then:
Bawl like a baby alone.
I have only been able to do the minimum in his room. I can’t be in there for long.
There is so MUCH to do.
Then there’s the living room. His Christmas stocking along with some contents of it are still there. Plus, ‘the sock’.
I don’t want to erase my kid!!
The rest of the room is pristine.
My bird’s sock.
Anyway, so, I go to the laundromat early today … Big mistake. Ended up waiting 20 minutes because again, my Laundry Lady didn’t show. Her boss did, again. Last week, I didn’t go – because, I didn’t have Nic’s clothes to wash. Mine weren’t enough to warrant a trip.
ALL I’ve done this weekend was watch Netflix (This weekend is ‘Saving Grace’ which, I can totally relate to.)
It has touched me on SO many levels I can’t explain.
I guess I’ll try.
I identify with Grace.
I’ve lived a life similar, only, without the whole ‘being a cop and saving people’ thing. But, I like to think I’ve contributed to someone or something.
I posted the theme song to my wall today …
Tangent – sorry.
What triggers me missing Nic?
Only having one basket of clothes for the laundromat.
Me taking a shower and the setting that I use is still on.
Me coming home and the place looks the same as when I left it.
Me coming home and there is no other car.
Me not doing some dishes anyway because I miss the mess.
And mostly, just me, missing the love of my life.
What scares me is, that because of my past I’ve hardened my heart.
Gets me through each day.
I may break down sometimes, and when I do, it’s rough.
But, I’ve been broken so many times to the point I dismiss someone’s existence. Or, their part in mine.
So, what does that mean for my son?
Why do I get ‘kudos’ for not falling apart for my kidlet?
I have a barrier so huge and so strong and so ‘HuuuuGE” Trump would be jealous. Use my wall as ‘the’ fucking ridiculous wall and NO ONE would get in.
(Hate him by the way)
The people do let in by the way, surprise me. Had a friend not long ago comment on Facebook.
As it was sweet, and kind, and ‘Amanda’ past.
I have his SOCK.
CALL ME DOBBY
Her absence is ubiquitous.
In her home,
at the park.
in our lives.
Her love is infinite.
We still feel it.
Her strength is unlike anything I can be.
And she’s unafraid to say –
I’m missing you.
I’m missing home.
I’m tired of dreary.
And in that honesty –
I find myself.