Good Enough

Recently, I’ve been feeling this inexplicable sense that somehow life is passing me by. I am sitting on the sidelines of my own life and it gives me so much anxiety I can hardly breathe. I feel so depleted physically and emotionally from the past week, and yet, my body, my soul, is screaming out from inside of me to do something! Except I don’t know what that something is. I feel so lost right now, so completely unfulfilled, and I don’t know how to remedy it and it is driving me slowly insane. I am not happy right now with my career, my personal life, my finances, my love life, my health & well-being…it all needs an overhaul and a revamp. I don’t know where to begin.

I have been in the house for almost 10 days now, from my daughter testing positive for Covid, to me testing positive last Friday. With the exception of two short Target pick up orders (with masks!) and walks by myself, I have been stuck within the confines of this house. I am lonely and in need of connection very badly. However, I feel like the only connection I can come by these days comes with a price: money or sex. I am running short on the first and I don’t have the energy right now to use my body as currency for connection. I literally cannot have someone take from me without it being returned in full force. And so I sit here, the dog my solo companion.

I keep thinking to myself – when am I going to get it together? But honestly, deep down inside I know that is a very harsh, uncompassionate response to myself. I know this! And I know that voice is not my own…it likely stems from my mother. Or step-mother. Or one of the other cruel teachers from my life. My own inner being is not cruel; she is inquisitive, joyful, hopeful, playful, curious, and loving. I have been so tired of having tough experiences that have hardened me in some form or fashion. I’m ready to live a life of ease, of softness. I’ve got myself and can take care of everything in my life, but I am tired of having to do it all alone. We weren’t meant to be alone. We weren’t meant to be lonely.

I’m crying as I type these words out, knowing that all these feelings have to come out somehow. I can no longer suppress them and have this resentment, anger, or sadness welling up inside of me. They must come out. So I type, and cry, cry and type, until I feel like enough of my emotions have been released that I can say “Good enough” for today and put my computer away.

Crazy Crow Lady

In my neighborhood, we have a murder of crows. I cannot tell you how much I love saying that. I tend to see them on my morning walks with the dog, and I am endlessly fascinated with them. I have found myself starting to talk to them as if 1) they actually understand me and 2) I already know them.

I have a confession: I want to be the crazy crow lady.

On Tiktok, I am on Crowtok (there IS such a thing – Google it!) and am so completely mesmerized. I mean look at them! They are beautiful, mysterious, wily, and resourceful. I have learned you can train them to bring you trinkets and other things. They will teach other family members about you and then you have generations of crows gifting you with random things they find, usually in exchange for treats. The only problem? I usually forget the treats part on my daily walks. But I swear, I am going to train them one day. One day very soon. Because I really do want to be the crazy crow lady.

I have told friends and coworkers about my latest obsession and it is usually met with weird looks. Well except my bestie, but we are both similarly batshit crazy. I love this idea of befriending smart animals and having a mutually beneficial, entertaining exchange. I want to be seen as this unhinged, wild creature as a result of my crow friendship. In part, because I know when people think you are crazy, they tend to give you a wide berth and leave you alone. At least a little bit.

So if you see a lady talking to crows, or (hopefully) with crows on her shoulder, I would encourage you to approach her with caution because: She is the crazy crow lady.

Alone in a Storm

I’m lying in bed, tangled up in the sheets.
The windows are flung wide open.
I hear and see the wind whipping the trees in a frenzy.
The smell of fresh rain intoxicates me.
The low rumble of thunder begins its crescendo.
I remember the conversation with you about this very topic.
The sheer delight of a good thunderstorm.
Laying in bed as the storm approaches.
Enjoying and appreciating nature’s fury.
I roll to the side and close my eyes.
I try to imagine the feel of your warm body curled up behind me.
Your strong arm tucking me against you.
Holding me tight.
Kisses on my neck.
My eyes flutter open from a loud crack of thunder.
I groan, both from reminiscing and the longing.
The realization sets in.
I am alone in a storm.
I sigh and think to myself, “Maybe someday soon”.
I miss you.

Riding The Struggle Bus

All aboard, bitches! I have been riding the struggle bus for weeks and want to take you along for this journey. No really, hop on….let’s go!

I have been telling close friends and coworkers I am not sure if I am burned out, depressed, suffering from menopausal hormonal issues, or some lethal combination of the three. I have felt both physically and emotionally drained and unsure of how I am supposed to remedy this feeling. But, as a result of sharing with people, I am finding this is more of a collective energy these days. There is some solace in knowing I am not alone riding the struggle bus these days.

I have had my daughter the past three weeks and I have beat myself up for not making this part of summer a magical time with her. You see and hear all these sayings like “you only have 18 summers with your kids!” and while I acknowledge that is true, it is completely unrealistic to make every day magic. In addition to these societal expectations, my ex-husband goes out of his way to do over the top shit with our daughter, so I have to fight that feeling of competing with him. In my core, I know it’s not a competition but I am still a human being who is prone to make comparisons. Some days, I am struggling to keep my own head above water…so in trying to keep myself from drowning, I don’t create magic. And after some contemplation (and guilt!), I have realized that is OK. I don’t want my daughter to grow up with this false sense that every day is a magical fairy tale event. It’s not; that is not how life works. It is usually in those fleeting moments of joy where memories are made, so I am trying to remind myself of that when the bad mom guilt monster rears its ugly head. Take yesterday as an example, we both happened to catch the family dog dragging his butt across the carpet and we laughed until we were both crying and out of breath. An ordinary, funny as hell moment out of our day where we shared a moment of connection. I guess that is a type of magic, isn’t it? Maybe I need to redefine magic as not being some capitalistic, over the top event I have to present my daughter with on a regular basis.

On the work front, I have been stressed to the max due to a situation that came to a conclusion this past week. I am hoping it means things will be looking up. From a health front, in order to be more proactive about menopause and aging, I am working with a holistic doctor. I am starting to slowly see positive results. More than anything, I have been so encouraged by the fact my concerns have not been dismissed as a “regular part of aging” or just “something all women deal with”. I have felt heard, really listened to, and have felt like this is a good partnership in working towards optimal health for me. The current struggle is the realization and change that comes with the fact that what worked for me even 5, 10, 15 years ago no longer works and I have to find a new way to eat, move my body and live my most healthiest life.

Personally, I haven’t felt great about the amount of doom scrolling I have been doing these days. I recognize it as a sign my mind cannot deal with anything else at the moment, and it’s to tune out and dissociate to protect myself. I get that. I also am feeling pulled to start cultivating a life that feels more centered on joy, instead of shoulding all over myself. I dunno about you, but I am so good about shoulding all over myself versus taking time to do things that really feed my soul. I have operated from the mindset that my responsibilities always come first and that joy, pleasure, hobbies and things I enjoy only come afterwards, IF I have any energy or desire left. And you know what? That is complete and utter bullshit. I have realized part of my issue is precisely because I have not been infusing these small moments of joy into my daily life. Do I know how to change that? Not quite yet, but I am confident I will figure it out.

Where am I going with this post? I continue to ride the struggle bus into the future, hoping to get off soon at Joyful Street or Easy Life Lane. I think more than anything, if you are riding the struggle bus too, know you are not alone. Maybe we can share a seat on the bus.