The Prodigal Writer Returns….I Hope.

Once again, I am sorry to all of my friends, followers and anyone else who is interested in this life of mine.

It has been such a struggle these past few years. I guess sometimes it’s easier to write about things when they are going badly than when things are well.

I am doing well. I am in a relationship with an awesome and caring man, though I’m still a bit skittish about it getting so serious. But, I know he cares so deeply for me…a type of caring that I have never experienced in my life. So, I’m just going with the flow for now…no rush.

I don’t really want to talk about my mental health struggles tonight, so this post will be a photographic “story” of me and my sweetheart’s Valentine’s Day weekend away. It was amazing to be in such a beautiful place with someone I adore. I was also allowed to bring my dog, Penny Lane, with us, so that made it all the more special.

Life’s Labor Pains

Benjamin Franklin once wrote in a letter to Jean-Baptiste Leroy, “…nothing can be said to be certain except death and taxes.”

Now, I love good ole Ben Franklin quotes, but I must disagree with this one. There is one more certainty in life…

Change.

No matter how good or bad our lives may be at any given moment in time, change will inevitably come. We can dream, we can plan, and we can build, but nothing is forever.

I am reminded of giving birth the first time.

When I found out I was pregnant at 16 my whole life was turned upside down. I knew nothing, and didn’t know what to expect. The only thing I knew was that I wanted to have my baby, and I wanted to have it naturally. It was the 70s and Lamaze was all the rage. I was determined not to take any drugs to relieve the pain during labor. I wanted to experience the entire process with a clear mind, and control my pain with breathing and meditation.

The day I went into labor was confusing and scary, but I had taken all the Lamaze classes faithfully, and I understood I could control my pain. I had been in labor all morning, and by the time I reached the hospital I was going strong. I had this licked, or so I thought. Transition had begun. Transition is the part of labor when the baby begins moving down the birth canal. Well, without getting into an entire birthing lesson here…let me just say, transition is hell. I mean, that kind of pain is not something you can describe with words, you have to feel it to know. The best part of transition during childbirth is that it means you are almost done. I made it through the entire delivery without any medication, and there was my beautiful baby girl, joy replaced pain. Funny how the pain is forgotten as soon as the joy is there. I went on to have all three of my children this way. Yes, I am somewhat masochistic I guess. My youngest, after trying to go “all natural” with her child turned to me during labor and said, “Mom, now I know you are crazy…you did this more than once?”

Anyway, my point is that the most difficult changes we have to make or that just come about in our lives can be painful, and yet, can bring the best results.

I am going through some difficult changes in my life. I am having to make new choices, accept new ideas, and truly decide what I do and don’t want in my life. This is painful on so many levels, and yet there is anticipation of joy also. I don’t want to get into personal details, because honestly…change is change, and somewhere deep inside I know that I am going to be okay. I am learning so much about who I truly am, and growing to know myself more intimately than I ever have before. This is a time of change, a time of rebirth.

I feel like that scared teenager again. I don’t know what to expect, I am not sure how I will handle it, and I am scared…but, that’s okay. There is a part of me that still “knows” that scared teenage girl, how she has survived so much, and has come out stronger. It’s time for me to trust her again, take her hand and let the change happen. I will breathe through the pain and expect the joy.

It’s only transition.

Dark

The Will to Be Joyful

I haven’t had any idea what to blog for a couple of days now. I am trying not to let myself get down. It seems this holiday is always the toughest for me. I know I’ve posted the “positives” of poverty at this time of year, and I DO honestly feel that way, most of the time. But, there are moments when this time of year just puts a magnifying glass to the lack.

I am very grateful that the rent and electric are paid, good things. I am hoping that hubby is not home for the entire holiday, as that would mean no paycheck next week. I can make the $190 last for two weeks if I’m careful, and I’m good at that, for which I am grateful also. I did feel a little bad when he wanted to buy me a present this week, and I had to tell him it wasn’t possible. I honestly don’t need anything, well, not for myself anyway. I tried raising money for the new tires I so desperately need for my car, but I didn’t raise a dime, not a big deal really. “it can wait”…that is my patent phrase lately.

December is a rough month. I lost both of my parents at this time of year, Mom on the 4th, and Daddy on the 18, my birthday sandwiched between them. My brother’s birthday was on the 19, but he has stage 4 prostate cancer, and is refusing treatment. Instead he is drinking himself to death. Nothing I have any control over…I can’t help him, he has to want to help himself, and he’s 1200 miles away, as are my kids and grandchildren.

Ugh. I’ve tried so hard to always post “upbeat” stuff on here, but I don’t feel “up” today. Sorry. I guess I just needed to vent a little. I know that there are people so much worse off…I used to be one of them. I will get up now and find all that I am grateful for…and find my joy in this day, and something more positive to write about, but…”it can wait”. Love and hugs all!