Today I started something. Well yesterday I started it, but today I actually wrote it. I wanted a Jar of Happiness. I want for at the end of this year, 2013, that we as a family can and will sit down together and open the jar, pour out the contents and read all the good things that happened this year. That means every day we write down something positive and happy for that day that happened or that we did or felt & we put that paper in the jar. It will be so nice to sit down after a year and not have regrets to rue about.
That's what people do, you know. Regret. They spend an entire year working, hauling, straining, pulling, playing, and in the end, at the end of the year, they make vows to change things based on...
Regret.
What a bastard beastie is that one!
A better idea! To end the year remembering the happiness, the fun, the positives! Then end the year happily and start the new year making vows if you wish, but not regretting a single day of the previous year. That is what I want.
I'm treading water, you see. Like we all do. Spending every day, working, hauling, straining, pulling, playing... worrying, feeling tired, emotional, like a candle burned at both ends. The candle that burnt with so fiercely, so passionately, so brightly. It feels as if everyone in my family may believe I am burnt out now. I cannot truthfully know! But here's the thing... I discovered today that I am no longer a friend of one of my uncles on Facebook.
*arched brow??*
Truthfully, I cannot remember if I unfriended him! He cut me out of his life, having taken the side of a previous spouse because they share the same hobbies. Yes. I said it. The men... share the same hobbies. I am sure there is more to it than that. I think it has to do with the hard reality that he believes he is right in that three or more people cannot make a relationship work. My argument was that he'd never seen such a thing because the only people who came to him were the people who were having trouble --- psychology has its downfalls. For him, it would mean that I was right. He would never admit to such a thing. On Facebook he and my ex continued having conversations while I faded out of the picture entirely. Next I noticed that I could see nothing he had said anymore either, he had blocked everything but his main photo, even his family photos were blocked from me. Perhaps I unfriended him in a moment of anger when I finally had enough of that and I simply cannot remember it? I can tell you this, it was eating at me that he had made his profile so that I could no longer see anything he said or posted, his photos, nothing... but that he still spoke regularly to my ex. It is probable that I was the one who took such rash action in unfriending, to tell the truth. But I simply cannot remember. If only my memory would work properly!Depression is not your friend. It is certainly not mine!
Treading water is my life. Reading that I should be living, not waiting for later days, unable to move forward, only moving through time as if I am a faulty camera with lagging battery left on to record the moments. Today I changed that. I went in and unsubscribed to everything that I felt would cause negative feelings and thoughts in me, provoke negative reactions. I did something positive! I changed my facebook feed so that I would only see positive. Now I know how you might feel about that... there are still ugly monsters if one buries one's head in the sand. Problem is, I'm quite aware of the monsters... but I really need the positivity to pull through just now. So flowers and puppydogs, kitty's and little frogs... whatever. But it will be positive or it will not be on my facebook. I unchecked a bunch of Likes to not show their stuff in my newsfeed. Now who am I kidding? Do I really think I'll wander through the days and not go look sometimes? No. I know I will look some days. But do I need or want it shoved in my face daily? The negativity? No. I'm treading water. I need to keep my head above water, not be dragged down into the depths by monsters no one can see but me.
I watched the holidays approach with fascinated dreariness, grudgingly acknowledging the many betrayals of trust and love with the symbolism of the holidays; I glared as the calendar crept ever closer with a tiny lingering but deep hatred and anguish of time lost. The holidays, even my favorite, Halloween, for a while now they have been and will continue to be just another day.
I said nothing to anyone on Christmas but my son and my Master. I know there is some hurt out there. To try to reach out is a burden for me. To actually assuage some of their worries for me, convince them that everything is okay for me, the task of such a thing is akin to climbing Mount Everest in porpoise form. I live day-by-day. I do not know what each new day will bring. If I get a call in an instant that someone I love died, I would just sigh and begin planning what needed doing. If I could get out of attending anything, I would. It is that simple. I am down to basics, my needs, my son's needs, my Master's needs. Our pets. Very little else. I am not meeting those needs consistently or very well, in my opinion. Master will have his own. My observations of self are cruel and overbearing. I know it.
We did put up a tree. It was the week before Christmas. The week before that I finally made myself take down the Halloween decor. Treading water. I get through the day. I get through the moment. Suddenly I find something has changed & sometimes I remember how and sometimes I do not. (Hence, my uncle with whom I am no longer friends yet I cannot remember if I was the culprit there?) Worse are the rages that appear out of the blue, hitting so quickly and with such ferocity over such weird little things, simple things, stupid things, things that nobody else really cares about... That moment of fury so white hot that my vision sharpens, all of my senses sharpen. I tend to do things during rages that I would not normally do. But I get through the rage, the momentary blinding rage where I find I've crucified someone so furiously that I cannot possibly take back my words. My family is at a loss as to why I am silent. I know why. Because in a moment it is so easy for me to turn that upon them. It is better that I am away from them.
******* I've not even told any of them Happy Holidays, Merry Christmas, Happy New Year.
The rages are not constant, but they fuel the fire upon which I burn to get from one day to the next sometimes. The depression pulls me down, the rage within keeps me treading the waters of life and refusing to go down. Rage. I thought it had left me. "Ha! I am for better things!" I think to myself. But no, the rage of everything that ever hurt me is still in there. Dammit!
Let it go? I don't honestly know how. I try and try and think I am through it all and then up it comes again, the same rage, the same blinding fury, the same impossible physical strength. I truly thought by this age and certainly with this lack of care and being out of shape that I would have literally no strength to do the things that I could do in a Rage of my twenty somethings. 20 years hence, I still have the Rage within, the rages that blast out, and the inferno that keeps me treading the water of life.
The water of life, you ask? Isn't it more like an image of earth as a whole? The Gaia-esque visions that come to mind? You know, walking a path? It is different for everyone I say. For me at this point in my life, living in depression is like treading water with no land in sight. You either tread water or you go down, drown and you don't come up again. Well I fight too hard for that. Even in the depths of despair I will not give up. I'd have done so long ago if I were going to do it.
Treading water. I don't like deep water. Have I ever told you that? I spent a good part of two days in World of Warcraft knowing exactly why. It isn't just the around and above you have to watch, you also have to watch for predators below you. Fortunately, a death knight can survive damn near anything. Me? I'm nothing like a death knight. I do not go into deep water. A swimming pool is different. A pond, a lake, the ocean, and so help me if you think I'm getting into that river you's crazeh... I dun think so!
I love life, always have. I like it best when silence fills my mind. That sometimes happens when I'm driving alone and I observe the scenery with absolute silence including inside my head. Going along... taking in everything in pure observation. I have no thoughts at that time. It is peace. Absolute peace. I cannot imagine living with pure observation. If it were within my limits, my abilities for job and family, I would take a vow of silence for one year JUST to see if I could do it. What would my mind do? What would my hands do? Would a vow of silence mean I could not talk verbally? Or that I could not speak at all? I wonder. I wonder what Master would make of that? Perhaps sometime he will have me do that. He always knows what this girl needs. He is just as frustrated as I am, unable to be with his girl. It is coming. He will be here.
Patience! If I have anything from fury, it is the energy that burns within that gives me the persistence to continue. Depression takes off the edge so I don't kill anything or anyone. Prison is no place for a slave. Patience... the combination has given me patience. I don't know how, but it has. I'm too tired for anything else.
I love You, Sir.
