Yep. So I have a marriage that is slowly fading away, a cat that is slowly doing the same, and I do feel this desperate desire to clutch at anything I can to make me feel better. And the one thing I keep clutching to is the idea that this is all for the better. These are not endings, these are beginnings. These are attempts to find some happiness before it’s too late. I love clutching to my work. Knitting was always an escape from the pain I was living in, desperate for some solid life, some stable ground, as hope was born in every stitch. I started a blog so I could speak freely about my life, so that I could write an open memoir for anyone passing by to read. These boney fingers have slammed these keys in an ever desperate state to stay optimistic and they won’t stop now.
But, I would be lying if I said I didn’t have some of those days where I feel overwhelmed at the idea of it all. It’s a bit much, you know? My cat of 17 years is dying, my husband and I are separating, I’m looking for a new place to live, and my artwork is pretty much what I rely on for work. (And this is where those boney hands slam, “You did it before, you can do it again!”)
Because instead of thinking of all the marvelously disastrous things going on my life, I’m focusing more on how wonderful this ride has been so far, how fun it has been….and of all those beautiful things to come. From homeless to entrepreneur, from ignored to celebrated, (and even from celebrated to contagious)….from feeling that poverty was living without nothing, to understanding how having nothing gave me everything I’ve wanted so far.
So, I do understand and recognize the reality of what is happening around me….and I’m desperate for it to all be over and done. The misery of watching little Mario suffer as she does is my fault. I have to deal with that issue. I have to. Much like my marriage with Phillip, one of us had to say, “This needs to be done.”
But, at the same time, I refuse to fall into those traps that depression loves to hand you. I will not look upon these moments as the most tragic of all time, for that would be a lie. All loss is tragic…until you love and then lose something else all over again, then realize that life moves as it should. If you’ve lived life you already know that loss is experienced just as often as love is… And just as beautifully painful. It’s best not resist that truth in life….for that would only bring resentment if things don’t stay perfectly as they are forever. You have to grow….more so: you have to admit that life is just as much about accepting loss as it is about accepting love. Both can be tremendously difficult to do.
I’m not scared, I’m….apprehensive. (Same word, but more gentile, I guess). There is a tremendous amount of fear, but not where you may think. I’m not afraid of the day I move into my own tiny little place with Betty at my side (she’s my baby torti), crockpot bubbling with Bolognese, a ton of creative work to do, and a slew of new opportunities awaiting us.
No, my friends. I fear the days before that happens, where I finally have to let Mario go, and walk out of that front door for the last time, kissing Phillip on the cheek to say “Good bye” for the last time.
I will be leaving the life I’ve had for so long. Those days are coming sooner than I had wanted them to, but they are coming. Those are the days I fear. Because that’s when you remember that this is really happening and it cannot be undone. As much as you wish things would stay perfectly the same forever, life moves as it should.
So, I’m clutching at anything that makes me happy right now….
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