Sunday, January 15, 2012

It takes every ounce of my self control...

I wonder when, as a community of people, we started to expect people to just get over things?

We went from mourning for months and months with a black sash on our arms to "you need time off work? Will you be in after the funeral?"

And it goes the same way with relationships. Is there a length of time after one has ended that it doesn't hurt when they've moved on? That the things they shared with you and are now sharing with someone else don't cut you deep?

I've dealt with both these pains in the last few weeks. My announcement that 2012 was "my year" was taken in jest by the fates. So far in 2012 I've worked through a broken heart, nearly broken a finger, had that broken heart broken even further open by the loss of my Grandfather, threw my back out, dealt with being made to feel incompetent (WHEN I'M NOT!) and almost hit a cat on Route 53. That last one is still fresh.

How can so much shit pile up on someone in 3 weeks? Mother Theresa says that God wont give us anything that He knows we can't handle.

Well I have news for Him.

It takes every ounce of my self control to not yell at some people and say "What's wrong with you? Do you have no soul!? My grandfather just died, I can do this but my brains a little distracted right now! And I haven't missed a single beat, I've just not kept up with the speed of your ridiculous drum because my Grandfather is dead. I'm dealing with never seeing someone I love dearly ever again so excuse me if your photo copies aren't here yet. Where is your heart? When did you become so cold?"


It takes every ounce of myself control to not cry every moment of the day.

It takes every ounce of my self control to not scream at customer service even though it's really not their fault.

It takes every ounce of myself control to not eat the entire world. I really want some cookie dough ice cream.

Its just funny how the human body chooses to survive day by day in the modern age when every ounce of you wants to give up. When some people around you expects you to move on and you want to say F-OFF and never speak to anyone ever again. When every ounce of you wants to climb into bed and never, never get out. What keeps anyone going?

I love my job. I'm just frustrated. I love my ex. I'm just working on transferring that to "friend" love so awkward conversations get less awkward and much longer. I love my thumb. It's just not very cute right now. I love my back. Just, a lot. It helps me do things like move. I even love that damn cat that made my six pack go flying into the drivers seat and all over the back seat. I'm happy I didn't hit your little black and white ass.

It takes every ounce of me to get out of bed knowing I wont ever get to rub my Grandfather's head and tell him I think he has a few more hairs coming in.

But I do, because tomorrow is a new day and hopefully tomorrow will be just a little bit better.

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