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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
The day I gave a non-existent kitten the cold leg
Ever have one of those moments when you’re busy pouting, and ‘cut off your nose to spite your face’ as ‘they’ say?
You know, that mood usually reserved for teenagers or PMSing females.
That mood when you’re likely to say ‘no’ to something amazing (like cake) just because you’re not done being grumpy. Even though you really want the something amazing (like cake.) Yeah.
My boss offered to get me a sandwich (not cake), and I was hungry. But stubbornly pissed. “No thank you.”
My inner hungry person was wide-eyed and asking me “What are you DOING?! We WANT the sandwich.”
I looked at her, (yes, I have perfected the eye roll to the point of being able to literally see the inside of my head) and she backed off.
Must have been quite a look.
That’s when I realized … I had reached that mood today.
As I told my friend Ruth who I sought out to vent to at, “If a kitten was rubbing up against my leg right now, I’d move my leg away … even if I wanted to pet it.”
Petty pouting perfected.
I was slammed at work today. And every time I quickly returned from the scanner or printer, I noticed my boss on the internet.
That bothers the crap out of me. I work my arse off, and believe me, I’m not the one getting the commission. I could have used some help.
I digress.
Remember the fan that a customer brought me? Out of the goodness of his heart? In a random act of kindness? The one I had a really hard time accepting, because I have the hardest time accepting anything from anyone? No? Read more of my posts, you’ll see that moment. Or, just click HERE.
Now, yesterday (or was it Wednesday?) ‘Fan Guy’ comes in and plops himself down at my desk and has me make copies for him and fax something for him. Not work related. A personal favor (he’s a friend of my boss.)
Okay, I can accommodate that – (after my inner busy person made the snide ‘let me just drop everything’ comment in my head.)
As I was preparing to stand up and ‘accommodate’, he turned to my boss and said, “She’s my indentured servant, working off that fan.”
WHAT?
I felt about one inch tall!!
My jaw might have hit the floor had it not been clenched in a major effort not to say out loud what my inner busy person was saying at that moment. I shan’t repeat it. It wasn’t pretty.
Don’t do that. Don’t give someone a gift and lord it over them. Don’t make comments like that people. Just don’t.
I felt awful. As if I didn’t already have a hard enough time receiving gifts, that further cinched it for me.
Back to today.
So I’m slammed and already getting a little grumpy – when ‘fan guy’ comes back. I was entirely too busy to even make eye contact. Or was I still just entirely too humiliated and pissed to make eye contact?
Hmmm … no matter. He must have sensed the temperature of my shoulder and sat at my boss’s desk this time.
It was shortly after that visit that I stomped scurried off to vent to my friend.
I decided as my lip quivered and my blood pressure rose, that I needed a break. And a major attitude adjustment.
So I took a rare lunch and drove. Just drove. Then turned around, took a deep breath and returned to work.
I keep counting my blessings – but some days my inner whiner makes a pretty good case about being allowed to occassionally take a moment to acknowledge that some things just suck.
Then my inner grateful person (she’s taller than the whiner, and smarter too) takes over quickly and get’s us all back on track.
It’s Friday. I’m home. Groceries are purchased (thanks to my job) AC is blowing cool air (thanks to my job) and I’m chatting with my son on my ipad (who went clubbing for the first time ever, in the UK) thanks to my wifi (again, thank you job.)
So – if any kittens found my leg now, I would pet them. That’s if Butters didn’t eat them.
(But if she did – she’d be grateful.)
**Disclaimer: No kittens, imaginary or real were or ever would actually be harmed by Butters**
Debauchery Soup 