Your own good company

I am so damn sad.  Sad like as in I have that feeling like I’m about to cry all the time and if I breathe wrong suddenly, tears come.  So sad that it feels like my heart is outside my chest.  Or just missing.  Like I have glass bones and no skin and my whole body is about to be as broken as my head. 

At least I haven’t lost my flair for the dramatic!

Cause, you know, that would be so sad!

The girls like to watch Free to be You and Me and you should see me sprint out of the room whenever Rosey Grier starts in with his song about it being alright to cry.  That said, it is fascinating to see Michael Jackson sing about being happy with himself no matter what he ends up like as a grown up.  Just sayin.

There are some not-bloggable things happening in my life at the moment.  I just spent an hour wringing out a post, a long one, word by word by word, and then I lost it somehow.  Funny, because it was just a bunch of stuff that I CAN say, but was so hard to put into words.  Right when I got it and went to publish, it was lost.  I’m thinking of the time when I was a kid and I was shaking a mercury thermometer down below normal so I could take my temperature again.  I had a pretty good fever, and I was fascinated with seeing how hot my blood was.  I hit the thermometer on the couch cushion and it broke, spilling the mercury onto the floor.   It’s like now that I wrote that stuff all out, things are shifted enough for it not to apply anymore and I can’t even begin to rewrite it.   And that analogy doesn’t even make sense except for it does to me and one of the things I wrote about before was how I write this blog for me (so I can remember the small moments of these blurry days) and for my kids, f-bombs and all, so they can see their childhood from another angle.  Also?  I said they can go to therapy when they’re grown and be all, My childhood?  Here you go! and hand over a laptop.  Heh.

One thing I did write about is one of my yoga instructors who always starts her classes by saying a version of this: Breathe, and settle into your own good company.  I’m just over here trying to do that.  It’s good.  I am a kick-ass listener.  I tell funny jokes and I have an open heart, even if it letting it be that way can sometimes hurt enough for it to feel barely worth it.

4 thoughts on “Your own good company

  1. mamadaisy

    many posts of late have sounded like you have a lot brewing off screen. i am hoping these painful changes you are making are GOOD painful changes and that it doesn’t hurt too terribly much in the process.

    i don’t really know you at all, but i bet you would be good company.

  2. Meghan


    I know that feeling. Your post about self-confidence resonated with me too. You are a lovely person. In fact, my very first impression of you went along the lines of “what a lovely person!” You resonate a calm kindness and childlike curiosity. I am so sorry things are difficult and you are hurting. Things will get better, and it sounds like you are in a painful place, but perhaps it’s one of growth? Growth is change, and change can be scary. I hope the ride gets to be a little more enjoyable for you. I am thinking of you.

  3. squid rosenberg

    and it is okay to have other people listen to you, too. Just think of how much strength you’ve been able to summon up to this point, and how much more you’ll have access to in the future.

    But I do hate to read about you feeling so sad. *mwah*


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