Tag Archives: joy

Challenge, Letting Go

Letting Go Challenge: Week Six

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I apologize for the low quality picture. I took it at night because I wanted to make sure I got the stuff that was going to be dropped off at work out the next day, and the other two weren’t taken under the best photographic conditions, either.

28 Things:

  • 1. Storage container for my medicine
  • 2. Magic Wand
  • 3. “I am loved” button
  • 4. Downy packet
  • 5. Bag of cat food
  • 6. Button
  • 7. Arthritis patches
  • 8. Phone Charger
  • 9. Single Knee Hi
  • 10. Mini shampoo
  • 11. Mini conditioner
  • 12. Big bottle of conditioner
  • 13. Book (look, i’ve started!) Zach’s lie
  • 14. Top of a candle
  • 15, 16, and 17: Three broken and/or empty pens
  • 18.  Alarm company security sign
  • 19. Laptop box
  • 20. Purple scarf
  • 21. Alcohol bottle
  • 22. Empty hair conditioner tube — found in a drawer
  • 23. Black pants
  • 24. Blue pants
  • 25. Bra that has never fit
  • 26 and 27. Two pairs of shoes
  • 28. Writer’s Market 2013

One of the things I’ve discovered this week is the joy of seeing reaction of someone when I pass something on. I had the chance to see it twice.

The magic wand was given to me by an incredible lady when I was having a rough time.  She is my purple fairy godmother. I’ve had it for a few years, and, as I was cleaning up, I discovered an old pin that said “I am loved.”  I’m not sure where I got that from.

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Someone I have known for over ten years–one of my first friends when I came to work for my employer–was in the hospital.  We have had a tumultuous history, most of the tumult resulting from the fact that I really, really hated myself and had no idea who I was. Well, I knew what I was: I was venomous, but I couldn’t do anything to stem the flow. It just poured out of me, infecting everything I touched.

I was the opposite of Midas: Instead of turning things to gold, I turned them to shit.

Except for her. The thing was, she kept reaching out again and again and again when I really, really didn’t deserve it.

We would hang out, then not hang out, then hang out again, mostly going our separate ways when I got a transfer and she started attending church.  We would see each other or text once in a while, but mostly it was space.  A lot of it, I think, was because I couldn’t look her in the eye.

But then I found out, quite by accident, that she was in the hospital, in isolation because her condition was so dire.  I waited a few days before contacting her, hoping she’d be out of isolation.  It was within this span that I found my magic wand and the pin.

And so I contacted her and found that she was able to receive company.  The first thing I did after giving her a hug made awkward by her hospital bed, and only a little bit by tension, was to give her the magic wand with the pin stuck in it.

I told her a little about the wand, but I don’t know if I told her that I didn’t need it any more. I guess the assumption is there since I was passing it down.

That was a bright moment: when I found it, I realized that, no matter what circumstances look like, I really didn’t need a magic wand.  Now, the joke is that there is no magic wand that makes everything better; it’s just a representation of good wishes from a lady who wished she could make everything better for me. But the thing is, I really don’t need a magic wand. That wand became my wish I could make everything better for my hospital-bound friend.

I don’t remember what we talked about, mostly catching up, with my attempting to apologize for how shitty I was to her. Back in the day, my “personal space bubble” was nearly infinite, and I didn’t tolerate anyone invading it very well, and made sure everyone knew it.

At the end, she said, “That what’s you do when you love someone. Give them space and hope they come back.”

Anger, I’ve found, doesn’t have to be a way of life.  It’s much better when it isn’t.  And it’s not that I’ve changed–I haven’t changed. I just lost a lot of the garbage that wasn’t me.

Life is really, really good.

Also, the “ice chest” that my Enbrel came in served another purpose. My nephew received a bike for his birthday with a platform on the back.  With a little bungee-cording, it fit perfectly.

So this:

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Became this:

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And life is really, really good.

blogging

April so Far …

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…Isn’t that different from March, only there is a very observable lack of ice cream.

I’m not exactly sure where I got the idea that life would be smooth sailing once I made a commitment to something. It’s been anything but.

I have (read: had) a short story due at 6 this morning. Not done. Lots of stuff: Not done. There are four-ish weeks of school left and there is so very, very much: Not done.

On the other hand, I’ve managed to see this guy (It was in March, but it was so cool that it carried over):

Phil Jones’ didgeridoo workshop. I think if I go to one every year, in about 10 years, I’ll have figured out how to play.

Continue reading April so Far … →

Eat Pray Exercise, Weight Loss Journey

Don’t Lose It

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… give it away.I heard that the other day, and it stuck with me. Don’t talk about weight as if you’re losing it. If you lose something, there’s always the chance that you’ll find it again. Talk about it like you’re giving it away, fat like second hand goods that served you well but you no longer need.

Like baggage that you’re getting rid of.

I liked that.

There was a singular moment earlier this month when I realized something spectacular: I don’t have to be fat any more.

It sounds incredibly silly, redundant, over-simple: I don’t have to be fat any more. The significance of this statement had me clutching the sides of the bed, afraid I was going to literally float off of it because I finally got it, got it, got it, and that I was so happy I thought I would literally float off the bed.

Of course, once I came down, I was hit with the horrible realization that, while I didn’t have to be fat any more, that the period of my life in which I needed to be fat is now officially over, I had a hell of a lot of work in front of me in order to not be fat.

Continue reading Don’t Lose It →

Journey

Independence Day

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“I’m dying!” I yelled at Sherry in a moment of utter thoughtless withdrawal a few weeks ago.

“No you’re not,” she shot right back.

Actually, I was. Just not in the way to which I was alluding. That night, 23 days ago, I smoked my last cigarettes back-to-back.

Nancy the smoker died on January 9, 2008. Nancy the non-smoker was reborn the next morning, full of phlegm and an insanely sore throat. I know that there’s a high relapse rate. I also know that I can never, ever have a single cigarette or a single puff of one or I will relapse. Because that’s the way I’m wired, for better or worse. The only way I’ll start smoking again is if I indulge in a behavior that I don’t want to do in the first place.

And despite the passing twinges, that’s exactly how it should be.

It took me over a year of really, really trying to quit to get to this point.

In about three months, I will be 34 years and one week old as I walk across the stage to get my pseudo-bachelor’s degree. I was thinking about that today and realized that I was close to hating myself for LITERALLY half my life for something that wasn’t even my fault.

Continue reading Independence Day →

college

12:51 A.M.

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I am done with both of the Bear’s papers. One is 15 pages, and I skimped on sources. But it’s a great paper.

The other is 8 pages and has only one primary source.

Granted, I have my final in 15 and a half hours, and I haven’t even managed to crack a book, but the papers are done, done, done.

Only one left for the semester, and that’s due on Friday.

Don’t mind me right now, I’m doing the happy dance.