here are some things i know:
1. if i start crying, it might last for days. just like my best friend said. so i won't. not yet.
2. i can have one more beer. tonight.
3. i am not getting the message. i am trying too hard. what am i missing? i am missing something.
4. two things i think to myself that inevitably bring more trouble: i can do this, see? i am doing it. AND i really, physically, cannot deal with one more thing. i can't do this.
5. i need to take care of myself so i can "do" everything. this includes sleeping more, being kinder, letting go of guilt, and maybe even a business trip to Texas. i know. the sacrilege.
6. i have been blessed by being surrounded by some of the BEST people on the earth. and as such, i also have to accept that i have been blessed by being surrounded by some of the most troubled.
so this happened:
The Teenager and i do most things together. we talk about lots of stuff. we are close. i am not a great disciplinary. i give too much wiggle room according to most people. but it works. and then, all of a sudden, it doesn't.
tonight there was a dance. a dance that The Teenager really wanted to go to. i can tell because she hasn't had one tardy all term. and she spent three hours getting ready. and she's been really excited about it. so i drove home from the city as fast as my two flat and two normal tires would take me to take pictures, drive her there, and all that stuff. and then i mentioned that i would be at volleyball.
"then i'm not going."
"i'm not going to the dance."
"yeah. you playing volleyball? in the same building. i won't go."
okay. i'll call this bluff.
this wasn't a bluff.
she sat home on the couch. tears streaming down both cheeks, in her obviously well-thought-out attire, hair done perfectly, makeup immaculate. and would not go to that dance no matter what. and i left. it killed me. i fought myself. i wanted to go in and say, go go go go to the damn dance, i won't go to my volleyball game if it's that big of a deal. but how can i? what? who? not my child. i don't even know what to do.
but she sat. and i went. and i don't even know how to navigate this. all this stuff. but i know that if you aren't raised with a certain pride, love, and respect for your family ... you are screwed. family is all you got. whether it's blood or not. family. i don't know. i'm devastated. it tore me apart. it made me physically sick.
and really, it's a small problem in the big scheme of things.
today, in 14 hours, i spent only 2 with my girls. total. i was working and whatever whatever. but it threw me off.
here it comes, that heavy love...
i need to sleep more. i need to think less. i believe i may need to go camping. when one day at a time doesn't work, i will take it hour by hour. if i can't do it, i should say "no." slow down, you're moving too fast ...
i am going to sleep. i am going to breathe. i am going to say my prayers. i am going to be strong. i am going to be grateful. i am going to let go of whatever is attracting more trouble. i am going to love unconditionally. i am going to accept defeat. i am going to keep trying. even though every ounce of my being wants to stop. what am i doing? how do i know what to do? i am going to realize that my energy is better spent on me than convincing the homeless man at McDonald's that his transparency was obvious and i wasn't falling for his tricks. and i need to be okay with my pancake butt because the 18-year-old girls with long, skinny legs at volleyball weren't sent there to torment me, and i am double their age. oh my God, i think i am dying. double.
everything is not okay. and it never will be. being unbalanced is the only way i do things, i guess? trying to balance only makes me fall. tomorrow there will be answers. the sun will come up. and everything will be in perfect disarray.