this is the last i will say anything about it because in the grand scheme of things, i’ve got it pretty fucking easy. karma has been kind to me for the circles of hell i’ve lived in. oddly, i think the suck hits harder when you have parted ways with it for a long time. i needed a few minutes of fresh crisp autumn air and a reset on my perspective via the brilliantly somber yet stunning view outside my home. (my home. that alone should slap me back into reality). perfect grey skies hovering over a peaceful and beautiful cemetery covered in golden leaves. cappuccino made at home with not much more the press of a button.
so while putzing around trying to be useful without increasing my pain and then sitting in the fresh air i think about things. i think about these things a lot and often make it a point to voice them. i’m grateful for the life i have, provided almost completely by my husbands hard work all week. i live in a beautiful home with the man i love, no matter how much work our kind of marriage is. i have this home to hide from the blaring sun and heat in the summer and heat and the softest blankets to keep me warm in the cold winter. i am never hungry or thirsty. i have a car to go places i want or need to. i do love that silly hobbit hearse i drive. i can turn the music up as loud as i like. i can sing as loud as my lungs will allow or scream until my throat is sore and cry if i need to without the effort of faking ‘sanity’ or ‘i’m fine’. i have so much inherited/adopted family. family where no one has ever treated me horribly the way the one i was born into did. family i love with honesty and never obligation. i have a stellar daughter who has grown to make me look like mother of the year just by being herself. i wake up to my baby boy Simon insisting i move over so he can cuddle up to me and purr and cuddle my face. (he is pretty much the most perfect cat ever) my husband kisses me goodbye every morning (after being so quiet getting ready for work so as not to wake me). my life is far from perfect but fuck…i need to get out of this depression, this resentment and laziness.
it isn’t that easy but a girl can try.
i will likely still hurt, sometimes A LOT. i’m sure there will be more evenings of unfinished dinners because my hand/wrist/fingers will just hurt too much to work a fork. my days of being trapped on the couch under a blanket because it hurts to sit up/stand/walk are far from over i am sure. i will just keep doing my best, even if my best is nothing more than letting the dogs out while resting on the couch with my heating pad.
yeah, hello bipolar, sometimes i fake it so hard i forget you’re hanging around in my shadow.