Hi.
Remember me? Likely not . . .
since I sort of just disappeared for a month or so.
But here I am. The pretend girl, who pretends to blog, albeit very infrequently.
But I will be better about that.
Or I won't. Meh.
So I figured nothing screams "Welcome back to my blog!" better than a whiny, woe-is-me sort-of depressing and much too heavy post.
So let's get to it, shall we?
I know this.
I swear to the sweet baby Jesus, I really, really do.
And 99% of the time, if I just take a deep breath, or two, or three,
I can snap myself out of whatever funk I might be in and drag myself out from under the black cloud I am convinced has rooted itself perfectly in place over my head,
and find a way to see some sunshine.
But then there's the little bitch 1% where I just. can't.
And wouldn't you know, my inability to get over myself and be really, really thankful for the amazing things in my life happens to take root the day before the holiday where we are supposed to take stock of the blessing in our life.
Very funny, fates.
Your timing is impeccable.
Truth be told . . . for the last . . . well, let's just leave the amount of time part a secret.
For the last (fill in the blank), I've so very much wanted to answer the question,
"Are you okay?" like this . . .
And since we're all in the whole tree of trust, spill your honest soul zone right now,
I will admit I am being a little melodramatic. Ish.
In an effort to feel less like I do now and more anything other than I do now,
I am not going to get into all of the details. But the long and short of it is this . . .
I've lost hope, which means when things get tough, and lately that's most of the time,
I struggle mightily to believe that "this too shall pass." Because it never does.
I just feel defeated.
And stuck.
And I am scared to death that I am not making the most of this all-too-short life we are given.
I'm smart enough to take stock of the things that are making me feel this way,
and yet I am a total chicken when it comes to making the choices that I think, and probably know, I need to make to do anything to change it.
So I'm stuck. On repeat.
And I am thoroughly exhausted.
The Tiny Human is the source of most of this exhaustion . . .
I started seeing a child psychologist a few weeks ago to help me deal with her explosive, manic, fiercely stubborn personality,
but I think the road ahead of us is reaaaaaaaly long when it comes to managing and hopefully changing her behavior.
So there you have it.
But I pinky-swear promise cross-my-heart that this little place of ours isn't going to be a constant dumping ground for my weary heart.
It's just that now and then it's sort of cathartic to release some of this stuff,
even if it's only onto a computer screen and out into the world where no one will ever really hear it.
It's out there. And that's enough.
And just like, we're back to the fun-loving, light-hearted magical this place should be.
I present me, pregnant with my turkey baby.
So here goes: there really is a lot to be thankful for. And I know that.
So despite my exhaustion and the nagging sadness in my heart,
this year, when I count my blessings, I will be especially grateful for these things:
Health. My own. My daughter's. My family's. Life has it struggles and obstacles and challenges, and that is simply unavoidable. But the people I love are healthy and they're here. They're living and breathing and able to fight back when the world tosses a curve ball their way.
I am so very grateful for that.
My job and the people I am so very lucky to work with every day. It's not the paycheck or the insurance or the fringe benefits (although I am thankful for all of that stuff too) . . . it's being able to come to work everyday and truly enjoy the people I am surrounded by. It's the opportunity to become better at what I do every day because of the willingness of my partners to teach me. And it's the chance, the privilege really, to be a voice for people who need someone to speak up for them. To take someone who is broken, and help them fit their pieces back together. My job is all sorts of crazy stressful but it's all sorts of crazy good stuff too. And I'm grateful.
Elastic-waisted sweatpants.
You know, to accommodate my turkey-impregnation.
(I can't end on all too serious note, now can I?)
