Hello lovelies :) Missed you last week. Let's just say I was busy...um....messing things up. How, you might ask?
Well, you ever have one of those days where everything you do is essentially the opposite of what is considered productive, positive behavior? That was me...for about 14 days straight. What can I say. I've been in a funk.
It all started two Saturdays ago.
You may remember a certain little post I wrote called, "What's with Those DOG People?" You know, the one where I rage on and on about how animals are best left to natural purposes, like guarding, herding, hunting, etc., and really have no business being prioritized ahead of children, home, job, food, or anything else...and how I am not really a dog person anymore....that one.
Yes, well, all that went out the window two Saturdays ago. Two Saturdays ago I put my sweet Doberman, Zeus, to sleep. We drove him to the vet office together, my husband and I, and he licked our ears the entire time. It was almost like he knew it was coming. He pranced around the little room they put you in. He sniffed under doors and couches for a while, checking things out. He came over for pets on the head. After a good 30 minutes (it was a walk-in clinic, so we had to wait), he laid down at my husband's feet. Zeus didn't get up to greet the vet and vet tech when they entered. He just laid there, quiet, unmoving. I came around and held his head in my hands. He relaxed into me, closing his eyes before the vet even started the injection. His last breath was a sneeze. We left him lying on the floor, looking just as he would when he'd sleep in his bed at home.
I. Was. A. Mess. I am not kidding you, I cried for days afterward. I was practically hysterical at the vet's office. I was inconsolable on the way home. I am sobbing right now. I miss my dog, the unappreciated, sweet, stinky, giant oaf who greeted me every day and never asked for anything other than food, bathroom breaks, and pets on his head. Talk about a teachable moment. If that sweet boy taught me anything, it was compassion and realizing you don't know what you've got until it's gone. I miss him every day. My deep, heartfelt apologies, dog lovers. I'm sorry I ever accused you of being crazy. Turns out I've got some of that "crazy" in me, too.
Although I wish I could say that was the only "awakening" I had recently, I can't.
I also hurt a close friend of mine. She was pained by things I chose to say and not say at an important time in her life and I made her cry. Yep. Made a very incredible, important person in my life ball her eyes out because I was so selfish and turned inward that I couldn't be a good friend.
Oh, and remember that book I'm writing? Turns out I hate it. Turns out I want to burn it instead of edit it. Everything is wrong. I want to change everything. When did I ever think this book was good?
It's freaking cold out. I'm sure some of you've noticed. When it's cold I don't walk. I don't run. I curl up on my couch and watch TV and read books and eat, eat, eat. I've gained weight. I'm not feelin' all that healthy. I'm not feelin' all that comfortable in denim, either.
Wintertime also means more snow days for my big kid. I'm cracking at the edges, people. I'm in a less-crafts, more-screaming situation. Wasn't this dynamic supposed to be reversed once I started working from home? What am I doing wrong here? How I am I not able to get this suzie homemaker thing down?
All of these things, all of this "awakening," has kicked my anxiety into full-blown FML mode. And you want to know the worst part? The bad feelings that lead me to feel bad are not that bad....which makes me feel bad for feeling bad. Are you following me? I feel like such a whiny little shithead. I am blessed. I have wonderful people and things and creative outlets. I've never had a bullet stream through my front window and I have no worries that my kids are going to be profiled because of their skin and I've no threat of getting beheaded for being a woman with a college education. I know all these things, you see. My first-world problems make me feel like the chump with a paper cut in a room full of amputees.
So, as is customary when I feel myself slipping into my coma of worry and warped perspective, I'm taking to the page. Yea, no, not my novel's page. That thing can suck it for the time being. I mean this page. You guys. My heavenly, comfortable zone of transparency. Typing it out is like walking my head through the answers.
Dog people, I understand you better. I am sorry for the thoughts I had about you before. We may never see 100% eye-to-eye, but you have my respect instead of my eye-rolling. I am sorry for the eye-rolling. I was a jerk.
And to my friends, who always love me just the way I am, I apologize in advance for ruining your day, or your big moment, by being a totally selfish person. I am filled with emotions I'm still learning to control and I will continue to work at it because you are wonderful and you deserve nothing less than the incredible friendship you've gifted to me.
And novel. Oh novel. I will fix you. I hate you, but I will fix you. I promise to keep reading books on how to make you better. I will dissect you and examine you and move you into positions you never thought were possible. I will blow past my editing completion goal date. But I will do so knowing the only queries worth making are the ones with a solid novel behind them. I will make you solid. I promise.
Hey body. Remember me? The horrible chick who secretly thinks horrible things about you? I'm going to infuse you up. Matter of fact, I hand-sliced forage-fed pork chops for the first time yesterday. I rendered down the fat to make lard, which shockingly has less saturated fat than butter. I did that. Me. And I can do more cool stuff...like grow tomatoes. And enrich you with homemade dinners even on the weekends. And take you out for walks again in just a few weeks. So hang in there with me. We're on our way back to happy.
And to my babies. Mommy's sorry she's been so down lately. It's not your fault. Remember how one of you cracked your head at school earlier this week and we had to race you to the doctor for stitches? Remember how I was totally on my game, holding pressure, talking calmly and gently, walking you through every step of the procedure with pride in my heart at your bravery and kisses all over your face cuz you're still cute? I'm going to do that. More of that.
And anxiety, I don't really know what to say to you. You stalk me. I get it. I'm kindov a big deal. But in case you haven't noticed, you're creeping me and my family out just a little bit. I'm considering getting a restraining order against you. It may come in the form of scouring Trip Adviser for dreamworld vacation spots. It may come in the form of a night out with friends. It may come in the form of a comment on this very blog. But just know it's coming.
I know I say this every time I close...but today I mean it x100. Thank you for reading. I appreciate you hearing me out, waiting me out, helping me out, and providing me with insight into your own lives, be it through a comment here, in person, or on your own blogs. I am so thankful for your role in my life (every one of you has one) and hope any mistakes you've encountered this week are resolved swiftly, with love and a steady amount of forgiveness for your beautiful, flaw-filled self.
