2019 Sucked Donkey Balls

It hasn't really been an entire year since I've written anything.  It's just been a year since I published anything because 2019 was the year of anger.  I'm done now.

I know "2019 sucked donkey balls" isn't a nice way to say it but it's exactly how I feel.  I cannot wait for this year to be done.  It's not that it was an entirely bad year - it wasn't.  But it was challenging in ways I didn't predict.

We moved out of the only house I've ever owned.  That was traumatic.  While I've had nearly a decade to get used to the idea of my failed marriage, this was proof.  And it made me feel damaged all over again.  And angry.  But I have a partner who loves me as-is, so I need to keep that in mind.

New beginnings are good, right?  It would be but I wake up nearly every day hating my real estate agent.  Yep, there are parts that were our responsibility but this was a guy who knew I was taking care of a dying parent at this time and he did a crappy job.  When I brought the issues to his attention, his comment was "you're fucked."  Classy - and lessons learned.  I was slightly cheered the evening earlier this month when a man with a badge knocked on the door looking for the builder (re-builder/previous owner) of the house.  There are lots of people looking for him.  I hope they find him.

Every time I think about my anger towards our agent, I am reminded of my mother.  Those years we lived down the shore, we didn't have tv.  I had a lot (A LOT) of time to listen to my mom recite saying from Wayne Dyer and Normal Vincent Peale. Thoughts are things.  Your attitude is your life. My mom is LOVING this right now.  I remember the endless times where she'd start to tell me something from those authors and I'd just walk away.  Apparently some of it sunk in.  I can hear her telling me the same words I tell my kids: Stop giving away your power.  While I'm fairly certain the agent doesn't give a crap about us and I'm not sure what I'd do if faced with having to save his life, I will stop cursing him daily.  I'll just do it weekly.  I was amused and will forever remember the rick-or-treater child who knocked on my door and instead of saying "trick or treat," he told me my house was beautiful.  I keep thinking about him.

My girls went to college and everyone was worried about me.  I had two tearful days and then I was done.  Freedom hit.  It's 9pm and I didn't make dinner?  Andrew can fend for himself and cereal looks like a good option.  No one needs at ride at 7:30am on a Saturday.  Yes, I miss my girls but I do like freedom.  The transition hasn't been easy for them and it's hard not to rush in to "fix it" but I've done a good job (I think) of letting them figure it out for themselves.  I hope they know I'm here for them but they don't need me as much as they think they do.  They've got this.

Last year, I ran away during the holidays.  That was freaking brilliant.  I'm really good at running away.  It's much harder to stay and face the things I don't want to see.  Thanksgiving was tough and Christmas was harder.  I've been lucky in years past to have a family of choice that's been supportive when my family of birth was challenging.  This year, I had neither.  Thankfully my kids and partner have been good.

I am not enjoying the daily discomfort that is rheumatoid arthritis.  Mostly it just makes me mad.  I guess that's better than sad but it's annoying, especially in my line of work.  My doctor is probably very tired of me asking if I can go off my meds (the answer is always no - if I want to be able to sign and write) but he's gone from a guy with little bedside manner to one that chats with me, so I actually like him now.

We stole moments at the beach when we could.  Andrew surprised me with a trip to Sanibel Island, a destination on my bucket list.  He handles my O.L.D. (overactive laughing disorder), my tears, my grumpiness and my need to explore things in stride.  He's good for me.  And he's good for my girls.

I've seen lots of fireworks this year so I can miss them tonight (I'm sick).  It's the first New Years I've missed that I ever remember.  This is me practicing being an adult.  We'll see how long it lasts.

No resolutions for me this year because, really, what's the point?  But I will try to change some habits.  I'll go back to writing more.  I'll find a way to create more (because that makes me happier than anything).  I'm going to attempt to be a bit more social. We'll see how that goes.

2020, bring it on.

Comments

Popular posts from this blog

It's not a bucket, it's a can

A Life Well Lived....so far

Wacky Hair Day