Thursday, July 14, 2011

I use to write all the time

I think that is part of my problem. I don't anymore. Not at all. Well unless you count the occasional grocery list or what bill needs what kind of payment. That just numbers and budgets. Nothing creative. Well unless you count how I have to roll through our accounts to figure what is where to make this household work.

So here I am back to finding my inner writer again. She got buried in grownup crap. Hate that.

Life got way too serious for me for a while there and still is sorta. Dad died. That sucked. Never really did work through that as I probably should have. It's hard to talk to anyone about it. Why? Well because everyone says something to the effect of understanding, etc. Ok, maybe they do on some level but each person's experience with losing someone, even a parent, is as different as the individual lost and how you were with that person. I loved my Dad. I still do. I regret all the times I was frustrated with him or a situation. But then again too it's not like we were having screaming match discussions. More than anything I miss the hugs he use to give me. Trust me nothing is better than an embrace from your dad. And when it's no longer there well, it sucks. Big time. It can't be replicated ever.

My other obstacles included a surprise pregnancy and subsequent miscarriage. Still haven't figured that one out. Mother Nature decides when I'm 41, "Hey let's make you pregnant!" And then the bitch changes her mind. I was crushed. More so than I realized at the time. It's dealt me a blow I have to work through every single month. It started a clock I didn't even know existed and now wish I never knew! It's stressful, trying, depressing, etc etc etc... I mean hell I'm 42.5 and every month I worry that's it is going to be the same thing again. But then again I remember that my mom started through the "change" at 38 so hell maybe I'm there too. I dunno. It's way early in my opinion, but it's something I have zero control over. (I hate that too.)

And I think it sucks that guy's don't get blessed with some falling action of the hormonal variety. Why do us girls get all the "fun"? Periods, Pregnancies, Menopause. Trust me, I think the women would be happy to share our cramps, flows, positive test sticks, and hot flashes. Don't you fellas want a chance to experience this kinda life too? You guys got Viagra and we didn't get anything. We've been jipped!!

So after those two events in less than two years apart, my result is I have ate my way into comfort. Yes there are other lovely life things that add to the stress: bills, relationships, work, all that. So in the end I've gained well over 50 pounds. What I don't know is, how do I get back to the me that was me before 2009? Before all this started and Dad died.

I mean I've been told, "Oh it gets easier" It doesn't. I do know that my friend, Suzi, was right. She said, "You have to find your normal. It's not ever the normal that it was before, but it's new and different and yes still sucks. But you have to find it." I guess I surpressed finding it cause on some level I guess it would be admitting that he is gone instead of pretending that he's not. I know, "Not healthy!" But I think that's what I have done. And  now I need to work my way back through that muck to find me.

I had this dream the other night and Dad was in it. We were in mom and dad's house. The one I lived in from the end of 10 grade to my adulthood. Dad was there and I remember him telling me he was hungry so I went to the frig to make something. The frig was full of lettuce and canned biscuits of all things. And so I was digging around all the folage and found mayo. But it wasn't good anymore. It was rancid and had blown out part of the jar and was bubbling. Still the right color but not the right look by any stretch. Dad removed it from the door. I remember saying "How about some cheese?" And I started looking for it. And i found it in a drawer on the island instead of in the frig. It was warm and not good either and I asked "why in the world did mom put the cheese in the drawer?!" He shrugged and walked away. I followed him to my sister's old room and he was on the computer. My sister was asleep in the bed and  woke up, rolled over and looked at me. I said, "It's ok, Dad's checking something out on the internet." And she said something like, "that's not possible. He died." And I woke up.

I think my brain is trying to talk to me. Telling me he is gone and for some reason I've tuned it out. I laid in bed thinking of all the symbolism of the dream. Various hieroglyphics on the walls and such. People and places in the dreams. I made me realize it's really honestly time for me to deal with this. I'm not a fan of shrinks but I am a fan of writing. So maybe I'll find my way through my keyboard and this blog. I suppose only time will tell.

~ S ~

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