Cry Drink Live

I disappear into the person I love. I am a permeable membrane. If I love you, you can have it all: My money, my time, my body, my dog, my dog’s money. I will assume your debts, and project upon you all sorts of nifty qualities that you’ve never actually cultivated in yourself. I will give you all this and more until I am so exhausted and depleted that the only way I can recover is by becoming infatuated with someone else.

Elizabeth Gilbert, Eat Pray Love

The first time I read that, I put that book down and didn’t pick it up again for months. Or maybe a year. I was absolutely not ready, willing, or able to face, or admit, or accept, or confront, or digest the portions of that sentiment that apply to me. My therapist describes therapy as taking our past experiences and making them a part of ourselves so we aren’t dragging our emotional baggage around. In my experience, I have to drag it around long enough to get sick of it. Only then will I do something about it — hopefully something productive.

Ruin is a gift. Ruin is the road to transformation. Ibid

Sometimes you have to drag your crap around so long that you feel ruined. Then you can create transformation.

So, today’s meloncholia and retrospection are hormonally driven. But these are thoughts that have been pinging around for several weeks. Although I had a wonderful day — I spent the day with my mom at Northpark and then I spoke with my Granddad on the phone — I came home to a vague but real sense of something sad or angsty. It’s stupid!

Things that dispell vague angst or sadness for me: Peanut, deceased. Nieces, far away. OPK (other people’s kids): harder to come by. Stuff for 50 percent off, which I found earlier today! Fabric softener, but I forgot to wash my comforter when I got home although it was all I thought about on my way home from meeting my mom today.

Today would be considered a wash but for the hormones. Or because of the hormones. And the memories. Durr. And even though I know God has great plans for me, I find that I’m more hung up on the “I’m not sure how your choices effect that plan” part of the concept than on the “God has great plans for me” part of the concept.

I wish there was some sort of conclusion here, but as I’m still a work in progress, so goes my blog. To happier days for us all!


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