Can you spell M-O-O-D-S-W-I-N-G??
Whoa- sorry about that. Menopause is not a pretty sight up close is it?? So sorry to have written on my worst hormonal day. However, I think it did save me from killing myself slowly with donuts so, thanks for bearing with me out there.
And thanks to those who suggested I get professional help. I haven't had a med. adjustment in almost a year so I think it's probably time for the annual tune-up...
Part of what feels so awful, so bound up, is that when I started this crazy blog I was so desperate it wasn't even a rational act, it was just a hand thrown out to the universe and then it blew me away there were actually real live people out there who would give a damn. And now, well, now I'm all self-conscious and haven't been able to just free associate at the keys the way I did at first. I'm afraid I'm going to be a bummer since right now there's so much confusing me. And also, I suddenly got worried about who might find my blog. It doesn't help that I was SO impulsive at 4 in the morning when I suddenly decided to set up my blog, that I didn't think it through and I put some of my real name there and the other day when I went back to work someone said, "Hey- do you have a blog?" which I sure as hell would NOT have wanted co-workers to know. And they said, "We were googling our names and an email you sent out asking for help getting your real name off your blog came up on google. Do you have a blog? Can we read it??" etc. etc. etc.
I felt sick. So, how do you all handle the blog thing? The last thing I need is one more secret in my life. My blog is not secret, it's not like I'm ashamed of it, but there are a lot of people I wouldn't want to read it if I could help it. I suppose there's no way I can get myself off google is there?? Experienced bloggers- tell me the inside scoops on the world of blogging and help me not make anymore stupid mistakes...
I've been feeling too frightened and sorry for myself to find my miracle a day and I find I am thinking and missing junk food a lot. Plus, I work with all women and I hate to sound ignorant but women DO talk about food a lot, especially chocolate and of course they eat it, and of course my dear, dear clients are giving me chocolate for Xmas because EVERYONE in the world knows how I love, love, love it, but just imagine if you tried to stop drinking and everyone around you was popping Champagne corks all day and expounding on the marvels of feeling nicely tipsy. It makes me tired. I have to spend so much energy visualizing and mantra-ing and centering and trying to be very eastern in my mind and imagine myself sipping tea in a tub, choosing health and life and light instead of donuts and the dark of chocolate and slow death. But it's hard to meditate on The Light at work because I'm supposed to be- you know- working, and because I have to call government agencies a lot and that is just about the antithesis of The Light and is enough to make you want coffee, a donut AND a cigarette. If there are many things that can make you feel more powerless in life than trying to maneuver through a state agency I don't know them.
On the other hand, I love the clients I work with. Most of my career I've spent working with families of children with disabilities and I always found it heartbreaking and inspiring but now I find it moves me at a level I don't even have language for. I have mothers on my caseload who have given nearly every waking moment of their llives since having a profoundly disabled child caring for that child: suctioning, doing chest PT, tube-feeding, changing diapers, wrangling and battling on the phone and at meetings to make sure their kid gets what they need. And some of these moms have just about broken under the weight of all they must do but most have not only risen to the occasion, but transcended the occasion. I don't know how else to say it. The work I do feels sacred. People open their doors and let me into their joy and their sorrow and now that I have my own tow-headed paradox of joy and sorrow, I am just amazed at the depth of love mothers and fathers and sisters and brothers share with children so many people do not think of as capable of loving. I guess those were my miracles this week: the mothers who were fighting for their kids against systems that are nearly impossible to move through. Mothers who are wrapping presents for children who can't open them, probably won't even realize it's Christmas, the little girl in the hospital bed being suctioned by her mother who has braided her daughters beautiful, long dark hair and tied it in two big red bows that match her 3 year old sisters bows. Her little sister climbing up on the bed saying, "aren't sissy and I pretty?" and then kissing her sisters wet, spitty face, kneeling on the oxygen tubing and her mom saying "get off Sissy's oxygen" as calmly as could be. And then telling me she hopes I'm OK and taking care of myself and how were my kids while I was in the hospital.
There are so, so many good people in the world. That is the miracle. So many good people, so much love.
Thank you God for mothers who love with a love that is deep and wide and all-encompassing. Who see their children through eyes more like your eyes. Who see the core of their children under all the pain and brokeness- who see the heart of them, their wholeness. Thank you God for people who love like that. Thank you that you love like that. And thank you that I am not in the pit today that I was in 2 days ago, that really sucked. Amen.
6:26:55 PM 
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