A scary story to put you to sleep in a horrid fashion of grabbing the covers and pulling them up to your nose while your mind spins with visions of Sage's blog? Or maybe a soft soothing type lament that will make the ponies and peonies dance like fairies behind your lids?
I can't decide.
Look, here I am. I am here. Only for some reason I can't seem to say here. I can't seem to get it together long enough to keep to a plan - to keep to a vision. What the hell people? I mean really?? I'm at this point in my life where for the first time in about six years I don't have any sort of major drama going on - and although I thrive on drama like the best of them, this is different. This is an absence of drama - a downright vacuum of drama. And I am adrift.
I see what needs to change and I can kind of reconcile this to what I'd like to see with my future...but it's the damn thoughts of what is lost - the drama. It's like without the horrid aspects of watching my own health decline then improve, without watching my mother sicken and pass, without watching my father spin towards aging to fast then slip from me all together...well hell!
You know this was supposed to bring about a sense of being finally who I want to be - thinking the thoughts I want and doing the things I want to do. It was supposed to bring a sense of security in knowing that I really only have to look out for myself, my husband, and my brother. But instead it has brought about this paralysis of fear. Of wondering what will be coming next. And a sense of depression of sorts that things will return the way they used to be, when drama poured out of every pore...every second of every week...every moment of every eternity in thoughts.
I digress.
So here I sit, slipping into this state of not caring...and it's showing - quite literally on my body, and certainly in my mind. Somehow the big brave Sage got lost over the last six years - beaten down by the cancer, the treatments, the money issues, the job situation, the loss of my mother, my father, and problems with the house. Reclaiming her should be my top priority.
She doesn't look the same as she used to...but I know she's in there and as each day and each sweet crosses my lips I can see that she's shouting to get out and creating some sort of crisis in my brain.
I'll get this worked out...but frankly, as for right now, well I'm not sure how to start.
Other than, of course, to stop stuffing my face all the time.
And to focus on what I love right now. And what loves me. And know that I'm lucky to have these things and people for as long as I have them.
Life is short - but I need to live, not as if it would end tomorrow, but as if it starts tomorrow.
Does that make sense?
And so ends your nighttime story of woe, drama, and weight gain. Night campers. See you in the morning!
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