You pick yourself up, dust yourself off...

Oooooh Funseekers. What a week it has been. A slight warning, I'm feeling tremendously selfish and sorry for myself at this moment, so please understand that most of the time, I'm not this much of a sad sack.

This is the one place where I have vowed to write truthfully. Some days, I feel inspired and courageous, some days I feel like a loser. Really - who CAN'T relate to that. It's just the natural process that people go through every day. With that, I hope people forgive some of my whining, because I really just need to let some shit out. It feels like forever since my group therapy ended, but I have to say, today I missed it. A lot. I took for granted the opportunity to meet twice a week and speak with people who face some of the same challenges regarding depression and anxiety. It was different than talking with friends, because I could really open up without fear of hurting someone, or making them worry about me. I love my friends, and I rely on them for love, support, laughter. I miss my group though.

This past week was my Mother's birthday, and (in the same day) the one year anniversary of the last day I saw my Grandpa, who died a year ago this upcoming week. Last year, I went to see Mum on her birthday, then Grandpa in the hospital. He died ten days later when I was up island at a conference for work. He was old, but he was supposedly getting better, so I wasn't prepared. But really - are we ever prepared? I like to say I'm prepared for Mum's death, but I know, I just know, that it will knock me over when it happens.

It wasn't a good birthday visit. (note - I didn't say this was going to be a fun post). I went to see Mum for her lunch, and tried to feed her as I do every time I visit. That day, though, she couldn't wake up. Keep in mind, she is on no sedatives or sleeping meds. She just... nodded off. Before lunch, I held her hand and watched her sleep in her wheelchair, telling her that it was her birthday, and goddammit she could sleep if she wants to!! :) I told her why I thought she deserved the rest - being a mother and a wife - constantly giving. Lunchtime came and she woke up for a moment. I began feeding her as usual, but she fell asleep with the food in her mouth. The staff told me this was unusual - she's usually so alert during the days. We put aside her lunch for later, when she was more awake. The staff member produced a lovely piece of black forest birthday cake - especially for Mum. She suggested I try that - a bit more sugar and taste - might perk her up. She again, fell asleep with that in her mouth. I wiped the drool off, held her hand and watched her sleep some more. Then I left. It was her 66th birthday.

I tried to imagine what would have happened if Mum hadn't gotten sick. My parents were separated when I was 15, but I thought that if she hadn't gotten sick, she might have met and married a lovely gentle man sometime in her 60s. Maybe, maybe not. She would have moved out of the big old family house, and into a condo... provided it had garden space. She would have gray hair, but she would maintain her trademark haircut (inverted bob with bangs) and she would still be working out at the gym and walking for an hour each day. She may have gotten a cat. Mum would have me over for tea and laugh at my stories and tell me that I should do stand-up (she used to say that to me). She would hug me goodbye every time, telling me she loves me, and asking that I check in via email - because she would have inevitably tackled that and gotten herself an account. She probably would have taken a community class to learn about the internet. She would still go to church occasionally, and she would have friends. She would send out Christmas cards, and get the same cabin every summer and wear her sensible Speedo one-piece (no frills). She would volunteer at a library. She would be sad sometimes, but joyous others.

I feel like I'm watching my family drift away one by one, and I feel like I'm left over, still 15 and dancing and trying to win at competitions and trying to make everyone happy... overachiever and so naive.

I competed this weekend as well. It went far better that the competition two weeks ago - I wasn't nauseous or having any tummy problems. I walked up on stage confident and strong for each dance. I didn't place, and I was disappointed. That being said, however, I feel it was my personal best for performances since I've gotten back into it. I allowed myself a five minute pity party regarding the loss, and have left it behind me. Three weeks from now, I hope to redeem myself. I'm certainly not going to lose momentum after one lousy but well-danced competition!!

Lastly. This is the hardest to address, because it inadvertently addresses many of my friends. My wonderful, amazing friends. This past week, via Facebook, I have witnessed the celebration of many, many Valentine's Days by many, many of my friends. I have so many friends who are discovering love, or have recently discovered love. That includes one newly engaged, and four married within the past year. I count these people as close friends, not just "Facebook friends". There are also the number of friends who are maintaining strong and committed relationships, and one who is discovering loss, freedom, and the newness of love all within one year. Love is, quite literally, all around me. You know what? I wouldn't have it any other fucking way. You know what else? I am starting to lose hope that it's in the cards for me.

Yeah yeah yeah. HOW many women have blogged about THIS. Not to mention the movies, TV shows, and so on addressing this highly cliched issue. Everyone has felt like they've been there, most people have. This is one feeling I do not get to have on my own, that is for sure. I have to say, I have never really been struck with this feeling before, though, and it's icky. Downright icky.

I need to stop thinking about life as being about fate, or karma, or any of that other bullshit. I need to stop looking at it as one big score sheet. No, I'm not the best dancer out there, despite the work I put in. No, I'm not meeting new available men and going on dates. No, I'm not gainfully employed, or capable of being so at this time. No, my mother can't hug me. That all being said, that last point really pisses me off - because if we're talking karma or fate, FUCK YOU.

I guess I needed to get that all out. Because as I write all of that down, with the intention of it going public, I feel ashamed. I feel ashamed because of the things I really do have. I have family - they may be far away (in more ways than one!) but they love me. I have friends. In fact, I have the best friends in the world. I'm just saying - I'm so lucky in that department. I have my dog, my knitting, my home and food. I have luxuries. I have an education. I have books. Once again, I bump up against the old "I had no shoes and then I met a man who had no feet." I may have no shoes but I certainly have my feet. I appreciate my feet, I do. I appreciate so many things in my life.

So why am I so sad?

Picking myself, dusting myself off, and definitely starting all over again...
xo-PS