We were young,
And none of us know quite what to say,
But the feeling moved
Among us in silence anyway.
Slowly we had made
Quite a change–
Somewhere we had crossed a big line.
Down upon our knees,
We had tasted holy wine,
And no one could sway us
In a life time.

Purer than the sky,
Behind the rain.
Falling down all around us,
Calling out from a boundless love.
Love had lit a fire;
We were the flame.
Burning into the darkness,
Shining out from inside us.

Not a word.
And no one had to say we were changed.
Nothing else we lived through
Would ever be the same,
Knowing the truth
That we had gained.

Purer than the sky,
Behind the rain.
Falling down all around us,
Calling out from a boundless love.
Love had lit a fire;
We were the flame.
Burning into the darkness,
Shining out from inside us.

Stay with me.
Make it ever new,
So time will not undo,
As the years go by,
How I need to see
That’s still me.

Falling down all around us,
Calling out from a boundless love.

Yeah….

Burning into the darkness,
Shining out from inside us.

Purer than the sky,
Behind the rain.
Falling down all around us,
Calling out from a boundless love.
Love has lit a fire;
I am the flame.
Burning into the darkness,
Shining out from inside us.

Purer than the sky,
Behind the rain.
Falling down all around us,
Calling out from a boundless love. (Ohh….)
Love has lit a fire;
I am the flame.
Burning into the darkness,
Shining out from inside us.

Purer than the sky,
Behind the rain.
Falling down all around us,
Calling out from a boundless love.

Calling out from a boundless love…

I’m writing this while listening to Amy Grant’s concert coverage of the 20th anniversary tour of “Lead Me On”

I saw the concert in early November 2008. I had a brief opportunity to meet Amy and to finally see her in concert after years (and years) of being comforted and led by her music.

You know me. You know I drink and I smoke… occasionally.

I honestly assign a large amount of credit to Amy Grant for inspiring my “spiritual” side.

From a very early age (1979 and on) to, well, now.

Her humor and her… what should I call it… her “universalness?” Comes through clearly and I wish you could have been there to hear it like I did. All those years of Sunday mornings, getting ready for church, suddenly made… live. It was like seeing my childhood, the voice that saved me from the depths of my parents’ divorce, right there. Right in front of me.

Certainly, Amy has no clue how she saved a 13 year old from herself. But, I know. And, my appreciation… I hope goes out there, where ever “there” might be.

As I type this, I’m listening to the concert version, the anniversary concert held just a couple of weeks after I saw her and met her in concert. “Everywhere I Go” plays and I remember… lonely moments, feeling lost and very, very alone in this world.

What that showed me, what that music showed me, is that we are connected. Amy Grant doesn’t remember me. But, I remember her. Not from meeting her, but from knowing she wrote lyrics and sang songs that saved me from a very dark time in my life. When I thought that everything I knew was gone. It wasn’t… it was there in her music, those lyrics that I had memorized and sang along to all those days (and nights) in church, dressed in tights, patent leather Mary Janes, God-awful slips, and sleeping in curlers all night before church.

“Can’t imagine ever leaving now…” (Saved By Love, Amy Grant)

Just when you think it’s done and over with… “saved by love.”

It’s not that my life is perfect. It’s not like everything is right where I want it to be… but, it’s mine… and I can’t imagine ever leaving now.

Odd how an argument with my husband brought me here.

I don’t want it any other way.

I’m typing this and my 14 yr. old daughter is listening and NOT rolling her eyes. She gets it. She knows. And that is MY legacy.

I know that.

And it’s all worth it.

Saved By Love

Laura loves her little family,
And shes the kind of woman who loves them with her life.
But sometimes in the evening,
When the world rests on her shoulders
With four walls closing in,
Shell close her eyes.

Oh….

Its not like she misses being younger,
Though she never was in vogue magazine or on tv;
Her husband loves her dearly,
And the morning shows her clearly,
Kisses her little baby girl.
Laura, shes the queen of the world.

Cant imagine ever leaving now,
Now that shes been saved by love,
Saved by love, saved by love.
Listen to her quiet heart singing loud.
Laura, shes been saved by love,
Saved by love, saved by love.
I know that shes been saved by love,
Saved by love, saved by love.
Saved by love.

Theres nothing quite like my familys love to warm me,
And nothing short of deaths gonna ever leave me cold.
Well, still at times its lonely,
But through it all it only
Makes me love jesus more,
And this is what he came here for.

I cant imagine ever leaving now.
Now that Ive been saved by love,
Saved by love, saved by love.
Hes gone and turned my crazy world back around,
And Ive been saved by love,
Saved by love, saved by love.
I know that Ive been saved by love,
Saved by love, saved by love….

Oh, Im never leaving now,
Now that Ive been saved by love,
Saved by love, saved by love.
Hes gone and turned my crazy world back around,
And Ive been saved by love,
Saved by love, saved by love.
Amy, shes been saved by love,
Saved by love, saved by love….
Saved by love.

Im saved by love.

Thats right.
And nothing I can say,
Nothing I can do, nothing I can say.

Were all just saved by love.
Nothing you can say, nothing you can do.
Only love can say, only love can do,
Only love can say.

Only love can say, only love can do,
Only love can say.

Im say-yay-yaved by,
Im saved by, by,
Nothing you can do, nothing you can say,
Only love can say….

——————————————————-

And what is the point?

Preaching?

HA! Yeah, right.

What is the point?

That not every thing we learned as children is wrong.

Yet, not all of it is right.

And the salvation?

It comes from teaching our children tolerance and acceptance.

A life without judging others.

A life that is based on giving back. Showing you care and that the underdog is worthy.

What About The Love - Amy Grant

I went to see my sister.
She was staying with a friend
Who had turned into a preacher
To save the world from sin.
He said, first deny your body
,
And then learn to submit.
Pray to be made worthy,
And tithe your ten percent.
I said, is this all there is,
Just the letter of the law?
Somethings wrong.

I went to see my brother
On the 32nd floor
Of a building down on wall street;
You could hear the futures roar.
He said, here we make decisions,
And we trade commodities;
If you tell me where theres famine,
I can make you guarantees.
I said, is this all there is,
Power to the strong?
Somethings wrong.

Somethings wrong in heaven tonight.
You can almost hear them cry.
Angels to the left and the right,
Saying, what about the love?
What about the love?
What about the love?

I went to see my neighbor.
Hed been taken to a home
For the weak and the discarded
Who have no place to go.
He said, here I lack for nothing;
I am fed and I am clothed.
But at times I miss the freedom
I used to know.
I said, is this all there is,
When your usefulness is gone?
Somethings wrong.

Somethings wrong in heaven tonight. (somethings wrong.)
You can almost hear them cry. (cry.)
Angels to the left and the right,
Saying, what about the love?
What about the love?
What about the love?

(yeah, yeah, yeah….)

(yeah.)

(yeah.)

I looked into the mirror, (yeah.)
Proud as I could be, (yeah.)
And I saw my pointing finger (yeah.)
Pointing back at me,
Saying, who named you accuser? (yeah.)
Who gave you the scales? (yeah.)
I hung my head in sorrow; (yeah.)
I could almost feel the nails.
I said, this is how it is
To be crucified and judged
Without love.

Somethings wrong in heaven tonight. (somethings wrong.)
You can almost hear them cry. (cry.)
Angels to the left and the right,
Saying, what about the love?
What about the love?
What about the love of god?

Somethings wrong in heaven tonight. (somethings wrong.)
You can almost hear them cry. (cry.)
Angels to the left and the right,
Saying, what about the love?
What about the love?
What about the love of god?

Somethings wrong in heaven tonight. (somethings wrong.)
You can almost hear them cry. (cry.)
Angels to the left and the right,
Saying, what about the love?
What about the love?
What about the love…?

————-

And, I don’t know what the point is…

but I know that “It’s Alright”

“Amy Grant All Right lyrics”

Looking out to the hills
To the setting sun
I feel a cold wind
Bound to come
Another change
Another end I cannot see
But your faithfulness to me is making it

[Chorus:]
All right
I fall down on my knees
Tell me that it’s all right
You give me what I need
Years of knocking on heaven’s door
Have taught me this if nothing more
That it’s all right, what may come

I’ve heard it said
When the river’s running high
You get to higher ground or you die
Well muddy waves of pain
Washed over me
And it only made me see it’s gonna be

[Chorus]

When will I learn there’re no guarantees
What strengthens hope, my eyes have never seen
But it won’t be long
Till the faith will be sight
And the heavens will say
It’s all right.

————-

And, I could paste the lyrics to “El Shaddai” but it would come off so… holy roller. So… “right-wing” and so, so wrong.

It’s not how it should be. It’s not how it is.

And, it’s tragic and lovely all at once.

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Blew my diet over Father’s Day weekend. We visited a friends restaurant for a family breakfast (complete with Scrawny and Scarlet) that included chicken fried steak, biscuits and gravy, and cowboy potatoes. Getting back on track has been a daily struggle for the last week. I plan to have something like grilled chicken with salad for dinner tonight.

Sunday we had a house full of people, booze, and barbecue. My best friend and her significant other (aka the type of guy afraid to enter a jewelry store), another couple we’ve gotten to know pretty well since the barbecue competition, my dad, stepmom, sister, Scarlet, Scrawny, and some of Julien’s friends popped over later after spending the day with their fathers.

We plowed through two bottles of tequila and and a couple of cases of beer. Many limes gave their lives for our cause. Needless to say, it was quite a success. My dad lauded it as one of the best Father’s Day celebrations ever.

I love seeing my dad and husband hanging out. My dad is 10 years older than S.O. the two of them razz each other, respect each other, and generally can always been found huddled in conversation around the outdoor kitchen. It’s amazing. It’s wonderful.

S.O. points out all the good things that have happened to us in terms of friendship and family since ousting my MIL and mother along with all their drama. My mother never came over for dinner unless it was a holiday, birthday or other special occasion. She always had an excuse (usually relating to one of the men in her life) and while she spoke of family and the like, she never really wanted more than to just have my children to herself. Not in a good way either. Obviously.

She made it very difficult to have a relationship with my father because no one wanted to put up with her tantrums if she found out we had something to do with him.

Of course, if given the opportunity, she’d deny it to the hilt. She loves to tell people how she has done nothing but encourage her daughters to have a relationship with their father. All the while painting him as a master manipulator.

Unfortunately, this leaves me as a 30-something adult woman with all the usual adult entanglements, with a bizarre sense of guilt over what feels like trading one parent for another. Guilt that my father might think he’s second choice/runner up, guilt that my mother instilled from a very early age over pretty much everything… just one giant load of guilt.

Sometimes I wonder if I’m part Jewish!

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TMI isn’t my strong suit… or maybe it is. I guess TMI is in the eye of the something or other.

Last night S.O. and I actually had our own bed, to ourselves, all night. We slept tangled up just like we did until we welcomed our much adored Rowan into our lives. Around 5am we ended up, ahem, very tangled up and it was… awesome. Sure, it doesn’t make up for lost time and it’s marriage so it’s work, but it’s those nights that keep you going, right?

Today I sat down and read the comments from my post yesterday and responded to them and I just want you guys to know how much I appreciate you all. You are some seriously strong, amazing women and I respect and value your opinions.

Thank you. So much. Thank you.

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I used to have a “committee.”

Okay, I called them “the committee.”

Shortly after my first husband left me I decided that if I had a group of strong women, with solid common sense and a deep desire to not see me get my nose broken (again) that I might fare better.

Of course, my backup plan was to swear off men permanently.

Funny how life works, right?

The committee consisted of strong, educated women who were dear friends that I had known either since grade school or high school. They were brilliant, witty, smart, and bitchy when it was necessary.

I took them everywhere, one weekend they took turns keeping an eye on me when an old boyfriend from San Jose came to town to “hook up” for the weekend. Okay, he was more than just an old boyfriend, he was “#1″ the first one that I had fallen head over heels for and was pretty certain I wasn’t going to make it when it was all over with. It’s funny, sad, and borderline tragic… we had a few clandestine meetings every few years it seemed like. Obviously, that is why the committee was on call during the weekend in shifts.

We were a strange mix somewhere between Sex and The City and Sisterhood of the Traveling pants only more ordinary than either. Somewhere along the line I finally said “yes” to S.O. after months (and months) of him asking me out. After that the committee was relieved of duty once they felt they were leaving me in capable hands, of course.

Now it’s been 13 years and they are all married, divorced, have kids, or are with “that guy” who can’t decide if he wants kids or marriage. Some of them are just people I say hello to every once in a while, some of them are still here, popping in and out, and visiting on holidays.

Everything has changed for the better and the worse. I put on my happy face and pretend I have my shit together and for the most part, they do the same.

Today I got up, had a less than stellar morning with S.O. and found myself searching for #1 on the internet. Why? No reason. Not like I would contact him, because I wouldn’t. Not like he is the same person I fell in love with, because he’s not. But, because part of me wanted to feel that way again and the other part of me knew the committee would tell me to put my google away and get back to work.

It’s funny how things go away. How you start out adoring one another, treating each other wonderfully, and end up being something more akin to a business partner. How the zing might be there for you but he’s too busy or stressed. You get up one morning and wish for the lover who used to hold you, who slept with a leg over you and an arm under you every night, only to find that he fell asleep upside down on the bed while watching television, and his hip hurts and his back hurts… and…

It’s just funny.

And sometimes I wonder what the committee would say now.

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I’m sitting in a hotel room in Carpinteria, CA. It’s a craptacular little town near Santa Barbara. I never plan on coming back here again because it’s just that bad. Crappy restaurants, crappy food, and everything shuts down at 9pm even in June. Ridiculous.

S.O. had a class down here and I came with him. Also down for the same class was my cousin’s wife. This was my first time meeting her… and quite frankly, I don’t like her.

She asked how old I am. I told her 33, she is 35 or 36. She asked how old my sister is and I said, oh, she’s turning 30 in September. Her reply? “OMG, you guys are JUST BABIES!!!”

Strike one bitch.

Then she started telling me about the [last name] men. This is my mother’s family she is referencing and she’s telling me that all the [last name] men are fireman. I said, “Uh, well, not all of them.”

It really pissed me off because I know my uncle has psychotically re-written family history and this is all she has heard. I told her basically that my uncle didn’t have anything to do with the family and that my grandparents spent the majority of their time vacationing and doing things with my parents, my sister and I.

She had this glazed look in her eyes like I was some silly person with silly little stories. I couldn’t believe it. They’ve been married for a few years and I’ve been in this nuts family my whole life. I don’t know who this twat thinks she is, but I don’t want anything to do with her.

Then she mentioned a few crazy and untrue stories about my family and I nearly threw her off the pier. I didn’t drink at dinner because I was afraid I might say something.

Then she starts bragging about her son playing football for the local community college. Lovely. Who brags about their kid going to community college?

I don’t like her. It ruined my night. I really don’t want S.O. working around her anymore at all.

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Oddly enough, things keep seeming to improve around here bit by bit. My dad is, basically, spoiling the living hell out of us. He just says he’s in a good position to do it now so we should shut up and take it. He bought us a spa (jacuzzi) to match the kitchen he built for us.

And, he’s building us a custom barbecue trailer to go to all the competitions with and to start our own catering company.

Yeah, I’m about to own a catering company, barbecue team, and S.O. and I still have our main business which seems to have picked up and the odds that it will continue doing so are pretty good too.

All that sounds more, uh, exotic? Extravagant? Whatever the right word, than it actually is. We look like we are doing far better financially than we really are, but at least our overhead is decreasing not increasing which is a good thing, right?

And, I feel the need to say that after all the whining I’ve done around here. It feels odd to receive these wonderful things that we couldn’t have afforded to do on our own. Strange, indeed.

Not that I’m not grateful, I am. I just feel weird. Maybe it’s just too long a run of bad luck?

In other “mom related” news. Apparently, she changed her cell phone number and was planning on ambushing us at the bbq competition last weekend. She was going to show up over there to meet her “boyfriend.”

And, by boyfriend you might think I’m referring to S.O.’s boss.

Nope. I’m referring to a father of Deirdre’s ex-best friend.

And, he’s married.

How do we know? He was a volunteer for the event (not knowing who my dad and stepmom are or that they were helping to run the event) as was Deirdre’s other ex-best friend’s grandfather.

Small world. See why I bitch about this town so much? It only looks big and heavily populated. Looks are truly deceiving.

When all of it came down it was the afore mentioned grandfather who spilled the beans that an somewhat innocent interaction between the dude my mom was hooking up with and my stepmother freaked him out and had him frantically calling my mother to call off their meet up.

No, I’m not kidding, you can’t make this garbage up.

And, now some of my mother’s note passing to Deirdre’s ex-friend and the inappropriate interaction at school ALLLL make sense.

Yes, I’m creeped out. Yes, Deirdre knows because she sat there hearing all the conversations while helping to run the ticket sales area. And, yes, Deirdre is a tad creeped out but also more disgusted than ever.

I don’t know what to think. Somewhere I find it amusing that I keep my mouth shut and I don’t do anything to her and these things just keep popping up.

Meanwhile, we got back to the real world Monday morning and S.O. was called in for a “random” urine test by his boss (my mother’s other boyfriend) - S.O. found out through the lab that they had gotten the order for it a week before but (and believe me, my mom was involved) they waited until Monday after the BBQ competition because they figured that he’d be up late drinking Sunday night. The urine tests now catch alcohol and if it is in your system the next day (and it only takes a few beers to accomplish that) they can you or in the case of someone we know - they force you to go to AA for a year just to keep your job.

It’s bullshit. It’s wrong and it’s ridiculous. It was also a complete set up in S.O.’s case… but his test was clean, he hadn’t been doing anything anyway.

Today, I don’t feel so down trodden, I don’t feel so persecuted, instead I kind of feel like they can do whatever they want, we’re just going to keep rising above it.

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Yesterday I had to take my cat to get her spayed. They told me to pick her up between 5 & 6 and my paperwork said the same thing. I called them before noon to make sure they gave pain meds because apparently pain meds are an option. Then, I fretted and worried about her because they don’t call and let you know your animal is okay.

I sent Julien off to pick the cat up yesterday evening and off he went with Scarlet and another friend. My day was rather harried and busy I was still tying up loose ends so I really wanted them out of my hair for a bit anyway.

Shortly after Julien left my sister arrived with my wedding dress, some of Deirdre’s clothing, and the antique doll my grandmother gave me in her will. All of these items had been at my mother’s house. Conspicuously missing were all of Deirdre’s bathing suits. My mother has a pool, so does my dad, so obviously my mother wouldn’t return the suits because she wouldn’t have Deirdre using them at my dad’s house. Yes, she’s that petty, honestly.

While there she unloaded on my sister about me, my dad supposedly trying to get her fired (when she was subbing at Deirdre’s school and harassing her on the school grounds, remember?) and the fact that she crazily assumes I am partying with my cousin and his wife every weekend. I haven’t seen my cousin in years, S.O. works with his wife but I’ve never met her. So apparently loads of things are flying around and she’s nuttily knitting all these stories together!

Then she ends by telling my sister that no one had better mess with her son (my brother) or there will be hell to pay. Huh, but apparently it’s TOTALLY okay to come in and start a giant mess when Julien just got home from the hospital after major surgery. But nobody better mess with her little angel, huh? The same little fuckstick who has been running around spreading rumors about my son, causing trouble for Scarlet in class, etc.

The thing is, I was really surprised to get the doll. My grandmother died when I was 8 and my mother has been in possession of that doll ever since. There was a huge brouhaha when the family found out that the doll was specified for me in the will. My uncle felt it should go to his daughter, etc. But, whenever this doll has come up my mother has absolutely refused to hand it over, so I let it lie. It’s just very, very strange she would send her now. VERY STRANGE.

Needless to say, it got to me. I was incredibly emotional, crying, pissed off and just hurt all at the same time. The things that were said, this need she has to play herself off as the victim, and of course my sister just sat there and didn’t say a word. I guess I had hoped she would defend me or something… say something… but apparently out of the three siblings I’m the only one capable of saying something and of course I haven’t said a word for 6 months now.

In the midst of that Julien calls to tell me that the vet closed at 5 and the woman rushed them out of the office and wouldn’t let them have my cat. I was LIVID. LIVID. I called several times, no answer. I finally left a scathing message on the phone telling them how I had found bad reviews for their office all over the internet (true) and that I was planning on adding to it! *sidenote - it’s 10am I have not heard from them at all.

Then I came downstairs and showed S.O. that the paperwork said between 5 & 6 for pickup. That’s when we saw it… in very TINY print like this: (Thursdays 4 - 5)

Obviously, on top of everything else, I also needed to look like a giant ass. Mission accomplished!!

S.O. instead of being compassionate and supportive began telling me how I needed to let this go and not let it get to me, blah blah blah. Which, when you are sitting there seething, crying, and upset, it’s nearly impossible to receive constructive criticism. I just can’t understand why it’s absolutely impossible for him to see that a little kindness, a little compassion would score him radical points.

I went upstairs with a bottle of tequila, limes, shot glass, and a couple of beers. I sat on the edge of my tub, because for some reason emotionally charged moments require the solid edge of my bathtub and my bathroom counter lined with whatever form of self-medication I require. I looked around the room trying to figure out why I was so hurt, why I was so upset. And, I realized that somewhere I’m still this little girl looking at my mother and knowing what she is doing is wrong and wondering why no one else seems to see it or is willing to call her on it.

Then I realized, this woman is essentially dead to me. She’s not going to apologize, she’s not going to see the error of her ways and I’m never going to get closure or resolution. In short, I need to move through a grieving process and I have no actual death to grieve. And somewhere in my head is the 13 year old kid who finds a way to justify and rationalize the irrational actions of her mother… and in doing so begins to feel guilt for ever being angry at her.

Which only served to make me need another shot of tequila, of course!

Then I heard the dog barking and realized that the neighbors next door were having some sort of get together that involved two kids visiting. I hate people who let their kids peek over fences and bother other people, or peek over booths in restaurants and disturb someone else’s meal. I don’t mean babies or toddlers under the age of two. I mean 5 - 10 year olds. It’s annoying it’s intrusive and it bugs me to no end. A summer storm was heading in and I couldn’t even go out on my deck to enjoy it because these two brats were deciding to get acquainted with the whole freaking neighborhood!

So I sent a text msg off to Chickie and mentioned something that required my using a BB gun as a sniper rifle from my bedroom window. She recommended a hunting sling shot and an ice cube so there would be no evidence. She’s a smart one, glad I keep her around.

So I’m listening to all the yelping, hollering, yelling at my dog, etc. and nearly stepped out on the deck to snap a picture of the little jerks and send it to Chickie… or post it on the internet… something. Which is when it occurred to me that from the point of view of these kids it would probably look awfully strange to see a drunk lady in her pajamas standing out on the deck taking pictures of them.

Probably not a good idea but the thought of it sent me into a fit of laughter and I ended up on the bed flopped across a pile of my husband’s clean underwear laughing maniacally and texting Chickie to remind me that I had made notes about my bedroom adventure and put it in a journal on the nightstand so I wouldn’t forget.

The wind was blowing and I had all the windows open that’s when I decided that the one thing I needed, aside from the alcohol, was music! My ipod was downstairs and I had no interest in seeing S.O. or anyone else so I was left with the music on my phone. So as the wind blows through the windows, rattling my blinds and blowing my curtains all over, I realize that the only song on my ipod was, “Summer Wind” by Michael Buble’ - you can’t make this stuff up! So there I am listening to, “…that summer wind, came blowing in, from across the sea…” on the pile of underwear, laughing my ass off and suddenly believing that I had gone quite crazy.

So I’m sketching the notes out so I don’t forget any of the insane irony around me, reminding myself to thank Marti who tried to help me get over a bout of writer’s block and did but probably not how she thought she might.

That’s when I realized I had been in my bedroom, drinking, and laughing like a crazy person for about two hours. I have a note on my sheet here that says - check txts. And, I found one to Chickie that reads: Thinking of sending S.O. a txt, ‘WOw, thanks for checking on me… two hours I could have bled out by now fucker.’

At one point, I did text him something about my mother… and he didn’t respond, at all. Today I have to sit here and wonder, who could know that their wife was having an emotional breakdown and not check on her after she’d been upstairs drinking for two hours? Who could get a text message that is a pretty good indicator that maybe their wife needed to talk to them, needed a little support and they just ignore it?

My husband, that’s who.

And, last night I was pretty upset about it. Today, I just sort of feel lonely, a little crushed, and a slightly abandoned. It’s Friday, maybe it’s just time to start drinking again.

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Had a nice weekend. Managed to loosely stick to my low carb whatever you want to call it. Yesterday I crawled back to bed around one and slept until after 5pm. Pretty odd for me, I’m generally not a napper unless I’m sick or something really, really out of the ordinary is going on. Although, neither seemed to be the case this weekend.

S.O. and I were having one of those weekends. We weren’t fighting or not getting along, we just seemed to be on two different planes of existence. No matter if we were in the same room, same car, it was like the connection was just missing. After all these years together I’ve learned not to freak out over weekends like that. It seems like every so often there is just this break that occurs even though physically you keep going through the same routine and activities.

This is the last week of school. I’ve put off getting Rowan’s kindergarten registration for as long as I possibly can, I suppose… maybe. I keep trying to rationalize it, it’s just 4 hours every day. Not that big of a deal. But, it still feels like impending doom.

The anxiety is ramping up again. Some nights I lie there worrying, worrying, fretting, over specific things and over nothing at all. I didn’t sleep well last night, I would have blamed it on my long nap yesterday afternoon except that I couldn’t concentrate, couldn’t relax, couldn’t stop worrying.

It makes me worry that it’s all starting all over again. The fretting, worrying, panic attacks, depression, cycle. I don’t want it to, obviously, it just seems like after you’ve been there you worry about going back. Not that I’m 100% great, but I’m not as bad as I used to be, I just worry I’m getting worse.

Sometimes I go back through these posts and I realize they are all negative in some respect. The thing is, I’m not negative like that. I have light moments, light days, happy times, I smile, I life, I enjoy myself.

But, I also worry, these darker moments… is this my life? Is this what I have to deal with for the rest of my life? That’s not exactly a prospect that warms the cockles of my heart.

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Let me make it perfectly clear, I honestly don’t care enough about anything to do anything about anything right now. True story.

Which makes what I have done all the more impressive (to me).

I went back to low carb. It’s the one thing that I know FOR SURE works (for me). Currently on day 2 I have decided that this will not be an exercise in punishment and futility.

Last night we made grilled chicken wings and coated them in buffalo wing sauce (happily, no carbs there!) we munched on celery, olives, and roma tomatoes with bleu cheese dressing. I made coleslaw with splenda instead of sugar.

And, instead of drinking a beer (or 4) I had shots of tequila to knock the edge off.

I drank tons of water, made myself a few sludgies (basically, sugar-free metamucil for extra fiber, coconut oil, and super green stuff) and took all my vitamins and supplements.

I have not encountered a scale and do not intend to do so any time in the foreseeable future. After all, what is TWO days going to do, right?

The point is, I actually put it into action. I’m not just showing up here posting my complaints and then disappearing into my bedroom to wallow in my own misery.

Not that I am not inclined to do so.

Now to the real question: How am I feeling today?

I slept better than I have in weeks. Even though something keeps waking me up at 4am every morning. More on that later. *sigh*

I got up this morning in a *shock* happy mood.

I read the news and wasn’t so overcome with rage that I wanted to kill someone. Also a good sign.

I’ve had one cup of coffee, an egg with sausage, a sludgie and am getting ready to take all my supplements.

I don’t feel exhausted and completely down trodden.

But, then again it is Friday.

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For a moment the sun has peeked through the window. I’m having an optimistic moment for no real reason at all. A long time ago I purchased “The Wisdom of Florence Scovel Shinn.” As you can see from the picture there, it’s pretty tattered and worn. Lots of dog ears, page markers, etc.

I spent a long time looking for a particular passage but couldn’t find it. I got pretty frustrated and almost decided to give up on this post altogether because it felt like my inspiration was fading.

The passage was about (totally bastardizing it, I’m sure) setting the intention for the square of life, Health, Wealth, Love, and perfect Self-Expression. That in bringing that about sometimes things are thrown into complete chaos so that they can be brought back together with purpose and organization.

Similar in thought to a natural forest fire. Nature takes care of itself, when the underbrush is too thick, when the overgrowth is too much, a fire purges the earth, clears it of the waste, the ashes actually fertilize the soil and help new growth to emerge, many times diseases or pests destroying the forest will be purged in this burn.

The problem is that I can’t tell if things are still burning down or if I’m waiting for the new growth to pop out of the burned up ashes. Either way, that thought gives me hope.

When I think about this analogy, I get this image in my mind of all these pieces of my life whirling around me, chaotically, and without rhyme or reason.

The bad is too big, the good isn’t enough to overpower it and I am left to wonder, is this it? It’s just one situation to tolerate after another and the point is to find the small moments of happiness where and when you can?

If that is the secret of life, then count me out. I don’t expect it to be all sunshine, ding-dongs, and raspberries… but life shouldn’t amount to one long oyster dive. It shouldn’t be a matter of nearly drowning to find one crappy pearl after cracking open hundreds of oysters only to have to dig back in and do it all over again… over and over and over.

Wow, so much for being optimistic, huh?

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