One of Those Days

You ever have one of those days where your mind is full of stuff but it’s so jumbled, you can’t figure anything out and why your head (figuratively) hurts you so much that it makes you sick to your stomach?  Or maybe the problem isn’t a bunch of stuff but your mind has nothing going on at all and it still does that?  I’ve been having a couple of those days lately.  I’ve been taking my medicine (speaking of which…), things seem to be totally normal for me, but I can’t shake this feeling.  My heart aches, my stomach is turning and I’m on edge.

The year, on the whole so far, has been shit, starting with the loss of my dad.  Mind you, the European trip was fabulous.  But it even seems like everyone around me is under the black cloud hanging over my family’s heads.  I know I’m being vague, but I’m not getting into all of the problems going on right now, since a lot of them do not have to do with me exclusively.  I have a couple things to look forward to:  new haircut, some new ink, a beach vacation.  I’m lucky in some aspects of my life.  Time is going fast, but not fast enough.  I know I shouldn’t wish life away, but I want some of these things that will make me happy to come faster.  I guess I’m sort of in a depressed state, even though I can’t be because I need to be there for my family, who all have their own sets of problems.  I need to be strong, a guiding force, someone to lean on, someone to cheer them up.  I try.  I really do.  But life is pounding away at me without lube right now and I can’t pinpoint the reason or reasons why.

I keep finding random coins in odd places and I know my dad is around me (laugh, if you will.  I still believe it.)  But what is he trying to say or do?  I can always guess, and for the most part, be spot on to what would come out of his mouth, if he said anything at all about something.  But we weren’t normally people to sit down and have a one on one chat.  That’s what my Grandmama was for; unfortunately, I don’t have access to her wisdom either.

I can’t think of any more to write at this time – like i said, jumbled mess or totally blank.  I just want this feeling to go away and I wish someone would tell me how to do that.  Until next time, here’s hoping for better days…

I Want To Believe

Actually, it’s more than a want.  I actually believe.  I believe in something.  I’m not religious (even though I was brought up Catholic), so it’s kinda hard for me to justify this belief.  It just is.

One night, a couple of weeks ago, I was on my front step.  I was looking at a light across the street on my neighbor’s steps.  I had just seen a picture of my sister’s tattoo, in memory of my dad.  I said – out loud – “You don’t like that, do you, dad?”  The light went out immediately and then came back on.  I sat and stared hard at this light for a couple of minutes.  It was just unbelievable to me.  I went inside and told my husband.  He just looked at me, like he normally does, and that was that.

Then, last week, I was out there again.  And there was the light.  Again.  I’ve seen it many times since that night.   I don’t really remember seeing it before that night, actually, but after that, I’ve seen it almost every time I looked over there.  So I decided to give it a go.  I asked quietly “Are you there, dad?” and stared, trying not to blink.  A couple seconds ticked away.  A car came past, blocking my view for a second.  Then, it went out, coming back on a second later.  My mind justified the delay by thinking “Well, my dad knew the car was coming and wanted to wait for it to pass so I wouldn’t miss him ‘answering’ back.”  It seemed rational.

I came back in and told my husband about it.  He looked at me, a little disparagingly this time, nodded and started playing FIFA ’15.  I went off to bed, but texted my mom about it before I went to sleep.  She told me to be happy about it and I sent back that I was.  I am.  Truly.

Yesterday, I saw my neighbor and asked her what kind of lights she used to illuminate her steps.  She proceeded to show me that they were solar lights (with a back-up battery, I think).  We talked for a few minutes, but I didn’t go into why I was asking about them.  She’ll know now, of course, if she reads my blog, but she already knows I’m crazy.

Solar lights don’t go out and come back on, do they?  They would just stay out.  If it does have a battery back-up, then maybe that would be the case.  But it seems so much more than coincidental.  I’m slightly unsure, but for the most part, I do believe in the afterlife.  And I’ll keep asking that beacon questions from time to time, no matter how nuts everyone thinks I am, because I just love to bug the shit out of my dad…

I (Don’t) Wanna Be Sedated

I was talking to my husband just a little while ago, when I almost said out loud to him “I saw my dad today.”  Which, as you all know, is impossible.  I don’t know why the thought popped up in my head, considering I didn’t even see anyone resembling him today.  I’ve thought about him – it’s hard not to these days.  But that’s okay.

I ended up telling him my thought anyway, for no reason.  It kind of brought me down and I wanted to have some context, possibly to explain, in case he noticed.  My eyes started to tear up but I couldn’t let myself cry.  My body shook a bit, but I just couldn’t release it.  In the past 3 1/2 weeks, I’ve wondered if my medications are keeping me from letting it all go.  I’m not trying to prove anything to anyone by having that agonizing, gut-wrenching, heart-breaking, seizure-like cry.  I want it for me.  Yes, I’m being selfish, but I need this.  Is it really the meds keeping me from it?

No, I’m not going to go off my medications just for that.  I know I need them to keep me level.  But isn’t there some kind of loophole for me to go through to achieve what I want?  Let me hide in my closet, with a wad of tissues and no one around so I can just have it out with myself.  This is part of my grieving process.


For some reason today, I feel like my world is starting to crumble all around me.  I have no idea where this came from – I’ve been getting better at pinpointing what jump-starts feelings like this, but I can’t at the moment.  I want to curl up and cry, but for what?  Can I try to weave my way through to figure this out without boring you too much?

My husband isn’t feeling quite well and there’s nothing I can do to help him.  I feel like I’m slowing up in my work again, whether it’s from repetitive boredom or just this looming feeling hanging over me.  My daughters need me (which is priority #1), but I’m trying to get some of this work in while my husband is around.  There’s gotta be more to it than just this.  Why can’t I figure this out?

I sound so negative too, when really, I want to be positive.  Maybe I’m cycling into a depressive phase.  Maybe it’s because I feel like I’m stuck in the house because of this daily, piddly snow shit that we’ve been getting.  I’m a homebody, but fuck.  There’s only so much a girl can take.  I wanted to go out for a little while this morning to run some errands, but it just kept snowing and my mom asked me to just wait for another day to do it.  (I know I’m old enough to make my own decisions.  She just had this way about her that made me say “sure”.)

There seems like there’s more that I need to say, but I think I lost it.  Maybe I’ll be back later with something a little more uplifting.  I just gotta get out of this funk.

~ S


In doing some research (aka self-teaching), I came across a line about blogging that stuck in my head.  It basically said that just writing about random daily thoughts is not the key to a successful blog.  Well, for one, success, like beauty, is in the eye of the beholder.  But two, I’m a random-thought person.  It keeps me and people around me on our toes.

Could I do a how-to kind of blog?  Possibly.  But I’m a lazy fuck.  I might come up with a life hack here and there, but nothing to write home about.  Should I write about my 15 years of experience working in a library?  I suppose, but it’s been a few years since I’ve been there and I don’t know if or how the dynamic has changed.  What about my early years of drunken debauchery?  Shit.  Everyone does that now (although I dreamed for years to do a Chelsea Handler-style book – before hers came out – because some of my stories are pretty fucking awesome.  Others may be more of cautionary tales though, like the one about The Girl vs. The Dodge Dakota.)  How about the life of a bipolar mom?  I have a better chance with that one, but not all of my thoughts are about either or both of those things.  It is a niche, for sure, and there’s no saying whether or not my blog will ultimately go that route.  I’m still feeling my way around the blogosphere.  Maybe one of my readers has an idea of what road I should follow.  Who knows?

In the meantime, why can’t I just be my random self and see where it goes?  Ha!  I can!  It’s my fucking blog! (This is where I put my slippered foot down with some force.)  And yes, I have the mouth of a sailor.  Hence the warning of a blog title.  Hopefully, you won’t hold that against me.

Day Two

Well, here I am again.  And yet, I don’t know what to say.  I committed myself to this daily blogging goal and I already feel like I’m failing.  Failing who?  Me, I guess.  I’m supposed to entertain, even if it’s just me, with thoughts and stories and I’m at a loss.  I did have a good monologue going on in my head earlier.  Unfortunately, mom duties prevailed and I didn’t have a free hand to type.

Now that I think about it, maybe I’m not failing.  I am writing, even if it is shit.  We can’t be witty all the time.  And quite frankly, I don’t want this just to become another mommy blog.  Yes, I may talk about my kids from time to time, but I used to be much more than that.  I like to think that it’s lying dormant, waiting for the right opportunity to be unleashed.  My hopes lie here.  I could make a list of things to write about to appease my OCD side, but I prefer the whole stream of consciousness idea.

I feel pressured, by myself, to do this and that is why I’m coming up short on topics.  Give me a couple more posts so I can loosen up a bit.  I’m also hindered by that whole “Watch what you post, it will be there forever” way of thinking.  Yes, be mature about it and don’t embarrass others and all that jazz.  I just turned 35.  I’m not new to this world (well, blogging, I am).  The problem is that my life is more or less an open book.  I’m just going to have to find that balance because that’s not necessarily the case with those around me.  Hopefully, you’ll stick with me while I work out the kinks.

~ S