Le Sigh

Yet another crazy day.  I did drop off the charm and bracelet to Julie's husband at their jewelry shop though.  Hooray!  And (shock of shocks), the engraver even did a completely fabulous job, despite the fact that my c's apparently look exactly like e's.  Oh well.  Maybe they'll let me write that off to the general level of craziness in my life right now. 

I think our cat officially got eaten this week.  I don't know by what for sure, but she's never, ever, ever run away before and apparently coyotes are really common in this part of the woods.  Come to find out, so are rabbit-sized rats, as well as an apparent smorgasbord of slugs.  I'm having a Monty Python flashback, "No, that *is* the monster."  Meh, well, what can you do?

I'm in a really funky mood the past two days, but at least I'm moderately happy.  I have totally and completely freaked out Hubby though.  Maybe we'll chalk this up as a "strengthening exercise" for him.  Something, man, yikes.  All I know, is that I don't care if the way I've felt is my fault, or the world's fault, or no one's fault at all, I just don't ever, ever, ever want to have to live that way again.  Even if I'm totally psychotic the rest of my life; I'd rather be happy.  I'm done with that part of my life, and I want sunshine and happiness.  I'm struggling with the general idea, but I'm actually starting to believe that maybe I really do deserve some sunshine in my life.  And moreover, if I can't depend upon someone else to provide it for me, well then maybe I'll just have to put on my "big girl" boots and go out and get it myself.  I've even decided to go and get a job.  I have no idea how I'll make that work, or where even I want to work.  All I know is that I'm done constantly stressing about money and whatever all else, so I'll just go start providing by myself for myself.  Wow.  That sure makes it a lot simpler, now doesn't it?

I can't even tell you what an incredible relief it was yesterday as I got to spend some time by myself in the car, to be able to think, to be allowed to think, that life didn't have to be this way anymore. I have some strength in me somewhere. I have to.  I've been through a ton in my life.  I really have.  And I must have come through it moderately well, because when I tell people even a small portion of it they go, "Wow, you're really put together.  I never would have had any idea that you'd been through all of that."  So there.  All you naysayers and skeptics (especially those living within the general vicinity of my own cranium), I really can do stuff.  And sometimes, occasionally, I can even do stuff really well.  I really like thinking of myself as a moderately capable woman.  I can be strong.  I have been strong.  And if I've been through all of the other junk in my life and handled it fairly decently, then I can do more than "just survive," I can *succeed!* 

I am so incredibly, terribly, devastatingly sick and tired of "just surviving."  Even the thought makes me absolutely want to yak.  Really, it does, no exaggeration included here (though that could partially be the massive tummy cramps).  And if that freaks Hubby out, and he thinks my britches are getting too big, or whatever, then maybe he needs to go put on his big-boy britches too. 

And, if I'm really on top of things, I might not even back down on myself this time.  That's it, my own personal goal: sunshine, lots and lots of sunshine. 

My therapist asked me a couple of weeks ago how I was able to survive everything in my life, and that question really bothered me.  I had never thought about it before.  Survival wasn't a non-option.  Survival had always been an expectation.  But then that got me thinking, maybe survival had been the only option.  Maybe, in between random, horrible, life-altering events and all of the "fillers" which have constituted my life, maybe I was so accustomed to "surviving" that when real life comes around, that's the only expectation that I have for myself.  And really, I think that it is.  I think that surviving is all that I have ever really expected.  I want more, but I have no idea how to go out and get it.  I have no expectations of success or happiness, just of surviving; of eking out one more day, every day.  If survival is all that you feel you deserve, then why strive for happiness?  If you feel like you have to feel grateful for all of the lemons, are you even going to try for lemonade?  I mean, I know that this probably sounds ridiculous, but honestly, I would sit in a corner (figuratively speaking) and go "Oh, wow, thanks HF.  These are some fantastic lemons, and wow, they're really tart, but at least they're a pretty yellow color, so I'll just sit them over here in a nice little pile in the corner with me and collect them.  Thanks, that's very thoughtful of you."

I mean, maybe I'm just the biggest bonehead that ever existed, but I'm not sure that I've ever even tried for the lemonade.  I think that I just look at my pretty little pile of lemons and stare sorrowfully at the other girls who have a bowl of cherries.  It's too bad that I don't have any cherry pie recipes to post here, because now would probably be a great time. :-D