Saturday, May 3, 2014

Hills, and Grief, and Clouds........and Sunshine.

I just adore my neighborhood.   Made up of steep hills, towering trees, and large wooded lots…..It’s an old neighborhood of ranch houses all built in the 50’s.  Now, what a single girl, not yet 30, was thinking when she bought a large house for her and her 8 lb dog, I don’t quite remember, actually.  But I love it anyways.

There’s a terrifying steep hill on one of the streets that even when you take it in the car you sometimes wonder if you’re just going to slide slowly backwards.  On the occasional times that I walk in the neighborhood, I always purposely avoid it because 1) I’m just not that sure I wouldn’t die or injure myself somehow 2) I’d be mortified and never leave my house again if someone witnessed me going out like that.  It’s how my mind works.

It’s a fairly quiet neighborhood with the occasional welcome sounds from the neighborhood kids playing basketball, or street hockey, or riding their bikes.  Especially on days like today. 

Perfect weather here today in Dallas, Texas.  If you’ve ever lived here for any amount of time you know we can go from ice to 80 degrees all in a 24 hour period.

And for those of us that have lived our entire lives in this fair city, we KNOW when the jig is up.  THIS weekend is the one we have to cherish.  It’s the one where we should go do ALL THE THINGS we can outside because it’s our last bite of Spring weather….and we’ve barely even begun the season.  We KNOW that this is our last taste before things start to burn like hell-fire.  Where we put on that cute sundress and flip-flops and have the perfect make-up and hair and then we go outside and proceed to sweat in places we never knew we could.  The makeup runs, the hair explodes, and we completely forget how much we prayed for warmer weather during this last winter.

So, today was one of those last days to be enjoyed, yet mine started out like one of a depressing winter season.

I couldn’t bring myself to get out of bed.  Up at 5am with the mind just spinning all sorts of thoughts and bemoaning the fact that I had a 9am training session.

So I sent a text and canceled.  I let the dark win.

I’ve yet to receive a response from Mr. Trainer.  The silence is deafening.  And, I know he’s disappointed, but not nearly as much as me.

After falling back asleep off and on for a few more hours, I finally faced it.

I can feel it starting to happen again. 

The dark cloud of depression that starts to approach.  It’s a cloak that if you even begin to entertain the thought of wrapping yourself in it, it takes that one shot and grabs you by the throat.  And you never can really put your finger on what makes it appear.  It just does.

But, this time it was different.  You see, when you go through dark times like that – you rarely ever know you’re in it until it’s so out of control you can’t even put one foot in front of the other.  

This time it screamed at me.  A thousand sad thoughts, all in my voice of course, telling me how I’ll never change.  How I’ll never succeed at becoming healthy like I want.  How I’ll never figure out what I’m supposed to DO with this writing thing.  How I’ll never find someone that appreciates me just for what I am and not what I can give them. 

It was LOUD, and I heard it and recognized it.  Like an old lover, sometimes we run back because it’s familiar.  It’s what we know.  And that dark is not nearly as frightening as the one we don’t know.

THAT is the difference, this time.  I’ve come to know myself enough to listen to it.  And to know that the power to change it is all me and no one else.

It’s not Mr. Trainer’s responsibility to beg me to show up.  It’s not my friend’s responsibility to just know when I need to get out of my house.  It’s not my family’s responsibility to come rescue me.  Even IF every single person in this category would, it’s not on them.

The responsibility lies with me.  And I owe it to myself to show up for life.  To show up for who I WILL be, so help me.

These spurts of depression or thoughts of failure are kind of like marks in a grieving process.  Grief is dealt with in so many different ways and certainly never have set timelines. 

It may sound strange to some, but I think in all of this change for me I’m grieving.  Grieving for the loss of what I once was…..even if that Old Hag needs to get gone……it’s what I know.  It’s also grief for allowing so much time to be lost while being that person.  And fear for the unknown of what I have in front of me to get to the person I want to be. 

Again, there lies the difference.  I’m listening to my heart and doing something about it….and recognizing why this time.  The grieving process is not over.  And it won’t be the last time that ugly cloud tries to approach.  But, my heart is louder and my head is getting stronger.

So, I got out of bed, put one foot in front of the other.  Made some scrambled eggs…..cuz protein, protein, protein!  Put on some shoes and began to walk.

I needed air.  I needed this beautiful weather and our dear city’s last taste of Spring.  I needed to show up for myself.

So I walked.  Up and down those steep streets, dodging the neighborhood kids on their bikes, watching them laugh and fight over a basketball game, waving at the old man who sits on his porch all day.

And then came THE HILL.  I did what I always do and started to make a turn to avoid it, but then I stopped.

I could easily have gone the other way and still have accomplished what I came to do.  I got myself outside, I got some exercise, and I breathed the fresh air.  I certainly didn’t HAVE to take the hill to prove something.  There wouldn’t be anyone to see unless I did something monumentally stupid.  Because there’s always someone there when that happens.

So, why couldn’t I move?? 

Y’all, I have NO idea why.  Nor do I know what possessed me to start moving again.......in the direction of the hill.

So, Mofabulous, did you walk the hill or not?

Nope.

I RAN THAT BITCH.

#cuetherockymusic


Mofabulous: 1   Hills and Dark clouds: 0

3 comments:

Unknown said...

You ROCK!

Mo Fabulous said...

Thank you. Love you!

Anonymous said...

Hell ya!