Just a Funk

Today is beautiful. It warmed up finally. I can go outside without feeling like I'm being attacked by sub-zero temps. It has only been in the low 40's, but it's the first time this year and my skin does not like the feel of the cold. Today it's in the 50's.

I should be outside.

But I'm not.

I should be cooking. Cleaning.

But I'm not.

I don't feel like doing anything.

I feel I'm wasting time.

But I can't move.




I had a tough morning. I simply can't share online, nor even in person. I confided in two people already. Each took a different view point. Now I just have to figure it out for myself. I know what I have to do but it's very very difficult.

It's time in my life to protect myself. I ask for opinions. But I have to QUIT trying to do the right thing that I "think" everyone wants me to do. I have to stop pleasing others and figure out what will please me.

Stupid me. I posted something on FB about where to live. Lots of comments. Fun to hear. Then someone said to do what's right for Oliver. While friends mean well, it made me sad. Of course, of COURSE I'm going to do what's right for my son. I breathe "momma bear" air. I'm that mom. I felt shame. Why, one more time, is someone not looking at me as capable of doing the right thing? Some friends say, “If momma's happy, baby is happy.” That is true too. Put the oxygen mask on me first. Then my son.

I need to take care of myself. I need to fight off this damn depression that is trying to engulf me. I hate that I deal with this stuff. Insurance problems. Brain chemistry. It's all messed up this week. I am trying to get stable again. Not easy.

I have a head that doesn't stop. I need to be calm. Relaxed.

I asked myself the other day, when was the last time I felt joy? Pure joy? Do you feel joy often? Joy has eluded me for some time. I had glimpses of it on September 28th. Work was coming in. My cell phone was ringing off the hook. It was a good day, that particular Friday. I headed up to my cottage. Had a great time along the way. So happy that my business was taking off. How would I get all the work done? I had had a busy week and this was such a nice break! I ate dinner out. I celebrated. I looked forward to the rest of the weekend. And then... bam. A bomb dropped. In the middle of my parade. A bomb. I pulled into the cottage. There was a little sign in the yard. What is that? What's in my yard?

A relator sign. A lock box on my door. My cottage was put up for sale.

Ah, that was the least of my concerns, altho I didn't know that at the time. Matt gave me a good wallop across the face. Just like he had intended. You must have loved that one Matt. It threw me to the ground, that punch. It did. Oh but truly... Ha! That would be the least of my problems. The least.  It was just the beginning of a plan that was being revealed slowly, painfully. Masterfully crafted. Who knew only 16 days later my house would be taken from me. It couldn't be true. Matt would never do that. He didn't. He wouldn't!

He did.

And without any guilt.




I miss having a man in my life who I can trust, who is my partner, who is good always and all the time, who loves my son as much as I do. I don't miss that all that time. I just miss that today.

I am saddened that there are people in my life who are hurtful to me, extremely so. My father for one. And my X. And there are others. I try to think of myself as a good person. But not everyone else does. Why should I care so much?

I just have to shake their opinions of me off.

I have to stay off the couch today. Get in the kitchen. Cook the pea soup I wanted to. Clean up my room, the kitchen, the living room. Clean out my truck. Sunday, during the game I can get work done.

I'm alone tonight. I'll make some calls. I'll get work done. It's not always easy. Don't feel sorry for me. It's just a moment in my life. It will change. Just a funk. No thanks to this morning's events... just a funk.



Comments

  1. You don't know me-- I stumbled across your blog awhile ago and always look for your posts. This one struck me. I just want to say- It's ok. It's ok It's ok. Stay in bed for a day. Be in a funk. It's ok. Be angry and spiteful for a day. It's ok. Be private and protective. It's ok. You're ok. You're way more than ok in fact--you're fighting hard to be a good person, a good mother. But some days I think it's important to just let ourselves be ok, breathe and let the day pass. It's ok.

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