I am sitting here this evening in front of my computer, munching on my dinner....which consists of a glass of Oliver's Soft Red, (not too bad, a little sweet for me), a dill pickle slice, cheddar cheese, and pretzels. In between bites, I ponder, and I write.
I am pondering over the two earlier blog entries I wrote today, I really thought I was on the road to my inner healing. Now, I am not so sure.
I spent the entire day alone, Miss Daughter left at 7:30 this morning, and is still not home. Although when I spoke with her, she gave me such a fright. It seems she ran her arm through a glass door today, "But don't worry Mom, I'm fine, it isn't as bad as it sounds. The man mowing the lawn was a nurse practitioner, and he said, I didn't need stitches. He bandaged it up for me, and told me to stay out of the river for a few days. I just peeled the top layer of skin off. But, Wow! All of that blood really scared me at first!"
Yeah, right! Don't worry! She will be home soon, and then I will inspect the handywork of the yardman/nurse. Nope, I am not worrying at all!
I have been rather lazy today, although I spent a considerable amount of time continually voicing the word no, to very active, and always hungry 3 month old puppy. But, basically, I was lazy, I did clean a little, and met a very nice telephone installation man, who was kind enough to examine the nonworking wall jack in my bedroom, and repair it. Then wrote some, ran some errands, and cried. Yes, I cried. It surprised me. (It also is surprising me how much I am craving these dill pickles, on my 3rd one now!)
Anyway, why did I find myself crying? I didn't really know why. Three times early in the evening, I picked up the phone to call a friend. But I would then not dial their numbers. Each time telling myself, "They do not want to hear me if I get started on this whole divorce subject." Which would surely come up, as it is the current angst in my life. I didn't want that, what I wanted was a peaceful evening, spent laughing and talking.
At that point I remembered the advice I have heard from so many different people. "Keep a support system going, you need a strong support system throughout all of this."
Great advice, but one I cannot seem to follow. I don't want to cry on someone's shoulder. I will gladly lend mine, but I don't like feeling needy. I did want a hug though, wanted one badly.
Me being me, I had to ask myself.........why? Why can't I call those closest to me, to moan, whine, and wail? Why can't I call those closest to me, and receive their understanding and support? I couldn't or wouldn't allow myself to find the true answer. I instead let my mind wander to the fact that I have no problem writing about all of my whining and moaning. But in face to face life, I don't want to do that.
I then realized, I haven't even begun to move through all the healing stages. A large portion of my wall is still intact. I haven't allowed it to completely fall, I haven't even begun to knock it all down as I had thought. Even the palms of my hands tell me so, they are itching like crazy, a sure sign of inner battle.
I know I want to feel healed, I know what I am supposed to feel when I have healed. But, I am not there yet. I want to be there.
I ask myself, so many questions in the midst of my tears falling, trying to get them to stop. "Why am I so unhappy? Why? Do I want my old life back?"
The answer was a resounding NO! I know, I have made the right decision.
Now, I just have to learn to dial those phone numbers, ask for some of their time. Only then, will I have my chance to get those laughs and good conversation. There may be a few tears involved also, but amidst the tears, there will be laughter.
Ok, one more dill pickle before I go to bed.
7 comments:
Call dammit, or write or something. You have friends that are more than willing to listen, happy to lend a shoulder. ASK!
We need other people in our lives, friends, family. It's okay to not be strong all the time. It's okay to weep, to grieve, to need help.
So let down the drawbridge, open the door, break down the walls, let others in. It's not so bad, it's pretty good actually.
Hmmm....lonely and enjoying pickles. I wonder if there's a metaphor in that?
Yes, call!!! I'm the same way you are, Miss Delight. I find it hard to pick up the phone when I need a friend.
If you were right down the street, I would simply show up, listen (for as long as you wanted to talk) and then hug you until you let go first.
Divorce is never easy, and going through it without a friend to commiserate with is hell on earth. Reach out. Call. Because friends want to know you're doing okay.
(keeping you in my thoughts)
--Sal
Girl.. I think you're in my head. And I think i found a new bloggin' friend *grin*
::hug::
I'll be back.
Deb, I know, I know, it is much harder than I thought it would be. We stopped by a friends house today, Miss Daughter was perfectly willing to voice her views with my friend, but I was pretty much mums the word, I don't know why, except it just feels like whining. I have never been a whiner. ~smiling~ Wouldn't know it from this blog would you?
Phil,
A dill pickle metaphor....hmmmm....dunno.....they did hit the spot last night!
Sally-sal,
Thank you, I will get there, I was reminded today, this portion of my life has only been going on for 2 weeks, things will get better, especially when I do take that step of opening up more.
Mia,
Nice to meet you, and I will have to visit yours.....gotta say though, I hope your head is a better place than mine! ~smiling~
Well, I think the salt of the pickles is replenishing the salt you lose to tears! Of course life is never a straight line. Who could live that way going straight ahead? It is all cyclical and spiral, a moving forward and a circling round back again before the next bit of progress. Get all those tears out,there is a certain number required before you are done with this. Every tear that goes, you won't have to shed later. Plus some great pickle will give back all you need! I myself am partial to popcorn in times of need!
Sometimes, when I think about the 'pain' of change, I think about a snake casting off its old skin. Because it doesn't fit anymore. And I wonder how that must feel, the super-sensitivity of new scales. Does it feel good, or just vulnerable. Or a bit of each?
Sometimes we just have to 'shed'.
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