Blammo

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Things I love: that Last Tango in Halifax and Swedish horror films and their remakes.    People being kind even when you look and feel like shit.  Being able to somehow crank out five hundred words on a night when I’d much rather curl up and dwell in the silence.  Whatever optimism buoys me right now.  Just digging in and getting things done, not turning away, not asking for a break, just seeing the goal and marching towards it.   The thought that the worries and fears that held my uncle back have left him, that he is a spirit unbound.  That the kindness in his heart is now manifest and visible and the thought that he is now present with the loved ones left behind.

Things I am grateful for: that I am able to connect with my family even though the things they are going through are taking place very far away, that we have the resources and werewithal that when disaster struck, my father was able to just go get on a plane and get to where he needed to be without undue hardship.  The hardship that is due is enough.  That I am able to process a little bit and maybe, in some tiny way, help someone else get through this.   My little sister taking time off of work to get my father to the airport.  To be willing to feel whatever it is she feels.

That I can know what panic is and be with it, in it, and not knocked out by it.    I can still have a little bit of sanity through it.  That I can accept the thought in my head that this is not forever and that I don’t have to give up the universe because this happens to me.

I’m grateful for my intuition even if I don’t always like what I end up intuiting.  I am grateful for getting the chance to see the soft hearts of others.

Wouldn’t it be nice if: I don’t need the particular Mr.  Confusion to write me or call me or get in touch just because I have general feelings to share, but I could surely do with someone rather like him right about now.   It would be nice if I could get the task that the therapist wants done completed at the same time I could get some sort of emotional succor.  Read: a geeky dude who wouldn’t mind writing and meeting and trying this whole shebang out again.  It would be nice to not feel selfishly like you’re making pain about yourself because you’re floating it over everyone’s cone of internet vision. It would be nice if it didn’t have to be a whole other year until the boards were cleared for that to happen again.  It would be nice if a few things got handled tomorrow that I thought were already handled.  That I could get up and drive the way I said would and grind off a millimeter of the insane worry I have off the edge of my mind.  That’s gross, but I stand by it.

 

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