Deviled Chamomile Thought Blogging
I'm not sure I can do this. Well, I can do this-- typing and vomiting of words; but I am not sure that it will be worth the energy spent or your time to read it. Maybe you'll read that first line and agree and click the button for "next blog". Don't worry... I won't be offended. I might do the same. Or, I might be curious and keep reading. Either way- it's cool. (That's the chamomile talking. It's mellow.)
There's really so much to say- but I don't really know where to start. I haven't written in so long and life has not slowed to catch up with my blogging negligence. The semester is almost over. I took on another 19hrs (stupidly I might add) as well as executive board on two organizations; bi-monthly volunteering for a very important non-profit, and chairperson for a community event that will hopefully occur next April. Needless to say it's no wonder the semester is over- I've barely had a moment to "see" it- its spun right by me. I don't make mention of all of this in the hopes of sympathy, or pity, or even a pat on the back... I generally do not make mention of the things I am doing (and have left many out) for that reason. I don't want or certainly do not believe that I deserve sympathy, pity, assistance... I chose these things. This schedule. The executive positions. The volunteering. The assisting. I chose to have this nutty schedule- and apparently I thought I was more "super" than I really am. Not only am I very human; but I am not a spring pup. Wait. Spring chicken. Young pup. Not spring pup. Eh. I'm not old-- but I have lived a worrywart life and a busy life and had my own struggles and had hard times. It all wears on you like a red lipstick you can't rub off.
That reminds me. I am also disturbed by some occurrences that have happened within a weeks time. Two people I 'know'- or knew of, took their own lives. Took their own lives. Took them where? Took them away I guess. Both were said to be, and appeared to be- bright, shining stars; beloved daughters and friends to many. Artistic and precocious. Beautiful and kind. One I know for sure was a perfectionist and only 23 years old. The other, a talented actress and just 31. The same age as my husband. The criminal justice major in me wanted to make sense of it by calling foul play. It's just too weird. They couldn't have done this. I need to know the nature of the method. I need to make sense of this. Of course; in most cases such as these; there isn't any sense to those of us left here to understand. Unfortunately, most of the living or 'survivors' - are left with guilt and questions of why.
Not that I judge those that take. I have felt that despair before as well. I have felt the bottom and felt too tired, too weak, too broken to get anywhere else. I have felt not good enough. I have felt overwhelmed. I have felt disappointed. I have felt alone. Maybe I have not felt this degree- this extent... but I would venture to say I was at a place dangerous for me. In fact, I felt that for so long- I wasn't sure I was going to live past 25. I did, thankfully. (and by the way; celebrated my 26th with a pretty rockin', ridiculously large, Scorpion tequila swigging party.)--
There's this thing, this presence, this voice... that pokes at me from somewhere unexplainable. It jabs me when there's a lull and tells me to get moving. It brings tears to my eyes and tells me to be a part of that (whatever that might be and when). It says "you're not too tired. get up. someone needs help." it feels like an inner 'bat signal' and i just can't ignore the call. plus i have a family. i have chosen, a long long time ago- to care for them. anyone in my family. all of them. blood. marriage. adoption. 'step'. second. friend. my heart is theirs. and in that, i have also decided that i must help as many of those that i can that need a voice, legs to stand, youth, kindness, a smile. i just have to. Part of me fears that the moment i stop moving- i will feel this overwhelming weight- this sadness that still lingers- this fear that i am not good enough- that i could have been... that I've disappointed you, them, him, her. Part of me simply enjoys that I can give. That I am there. I enjoy their smiles too. I enjoy the laughter ring. I am thankful.
I think I've had enough for now. I'm technically on break and have given this all enough thought for now. Perhaps something menial for an hour, while I wait to finish deviling the eggs for the big Thanksgiving celebratory rush tomorrow.
I am thankful for life. For living. For giving. For loving. I am thankful I was given a chance for all of these. I am thankful I took it.
There's really so much to say- but I don't really know where to start. I haven't written in so long and life has not slowed to catch up with my blogging negligence. The semester is almost over. I took on another 19hrs (stupidly I might add) as well as executive board on two organizations; bi-monthly volunteering for a very important non-profit, and chairperson for a community event that will hopefully occur next April. Needless to say it's no wonder the semester is over- I've barely had a moment to "see" it- its spun right by me. I don't make mention of all of this in the hopes of sympathy, or pity, or even a pat on the back... I generally do not make mention of the things I am doing (and have left many out) for that reason. I don't want or certainly do not believe that I deserve sympathy, pity, assistance... I chose these things. This schedule. The executive positions. The volunteering. The assisting. I chose to have this nutty schedule- and apparently I thought I was more "super" than I really am. Not only am I very human; but I am not a spring pup. Wait. Spring chicken. Young pup. Not spring pup. Eh. I'm not old-- but I have lived a worrywart life and a busy life and had my own struggles and had hard times. It all wears on you like a red lipstick you can't rub off.
That reminds me. I am also disturbed by some occurrences that have happened within a weeks time. Two people I 'know'- or knew of, took their own lives. Took their own lives. Took them where? Took them away I guess. Both were said to be, and appeared to be- bright, shining stars; beloved daughters and friends to many. Artistic and precocious. Beautiful and kind. One I know for sure was a perfectionist and only 23 years old. The other, a talented actress and just 31. The same age as my husband. The criminal justice major in me wanted to make sense of it by calling foul play. It's just too weird. They couldn't have done this. I need to know the nature of the method. I need to make sense of this. Of course; in most cases such as these; there isn't any sense to those of us left here to understand. Unfortunately, most of the living or 'survivors' - are left with guilt and questions of why.
Not that I judge those that take. I have felt that despair before as well. I have felt the bottom and felt too tired, too weak, too broken to get anywhere else. I have felt not good enough. I have felt overwhelmed. I have felt disappointed. I have felt alone. Maybe I have not felt this degree- this extent... but I would venture to say I was at a place dangerous for me. In fact, I felt that for so long- I wasn't sure I was going to live past 25. I did, thankfully. (and by the way; celebrated my 26th with a pretty rockin', ridiculously large, Scorpion tequila swigging party.)--
There's this thing, this presence, this voice... that pokes at me from somewhere unexplainable. It jabs me when there's a lull and tells me to get moving. It brings tears to my eyes and tells me to be a part of that (whatever that might be and when). It says "you're not too tired. get up. someone needs help." it feels like an inner 'bat signal' and i just can't ignore the call. plus i have a family. i have chosen, a long long time ago- to care for them. anyone in my family. all of them. blood. marriage. adoption. 'step'. second. friend. my heart is theirs. and in that, i have also decided that i must help as many of those that i can that need a voice, legs to stand, youth, kindness, a smile. i just have to. Part of me fears that the moment i stop moving- i will feel this overwhelming weight- this sadness that still lingers- this fear that i am not good enough- that i could have been... that I've disappointed you, them, him, her. Part of me simply enjoys that I can give. That I am there. I enjoy their smiles too. I enjoy the laughter ring. I am thankful.
I think I've had enough for now. I'm technically on break and have given this all enough thought for now. Perhaps something menial for an hour, while I wait to finish deviling the eggs for the big Thanksgiving celebratory rush tomorrow.
I am thankful for life. For living. For giving. For loving. I am thankful I was given a chance for all of these. I am thankful I took it.
Bout time you posted something missy!
ReplyDeleteI'm awful. I have nothing to say.
Thank you for being inspirational.