Tuesday, October 11, 2016
I sucked at life last week.
Truthfully, I had been setting myself up to have a bad week for a while now. For the last month or so, I’ve been progressively making decisions that weren’t... shall we say... goal-oriented. I’ve just been doing some stupid shit. And I feel pretty crappy about it.
I’ve been focusing my sexual energy on men who are emotionally detached or unavailable. Or both. So now I’m lonely. I’ve been focusing my financial energy on those damn little keno balls. So now I’m broke. And I’ve been focusing my physical energy on stretching my days as long as possible but not taking the time to nourish my body or my mind. So now I’m sick.
I can recover from all these things. I’ve done it before. It just takes grounding myself again. And nothing like a good old case of Shingles to ground yourself.
I mean, seriously? Shingles?
As frustrating as it’s been to deal with, it’s really not all that surprising that I got it. I mean, Shingles is basically a physical manifestation of stress. And while I don’t always feel like my life is stressful, when I take a step back and look at everything I’m juggling and how I choose to handle all of it, it totally makes sense.
I finally had a little breakdown this past weekend. My son is going through a less than desirable whiney stage and we had spent a long and challenging morning together. My parents had been out doing their usual Saturday morning routine and when they got home, I left him with my mom for a minute, went upstairs, sat on my bed and cried tears of exhaustion and frustration. I really felt like I hadn’t nailed the whole mom-thing that day. Or the last few days, really. I felt bad that I was so irritated by his crying. I just really, really needed a break.
It’s times like these that I am so grateful that I’m not completely alone in raising my son and that my parents are there to help pick me up. I can’t imagine how difficult it is for all those women (and men) out there who are truly doing it all by themselves. Because parenting is hard. Like, really hard.
Anyway, crying it out helped. And going to work that night helped too. I worked a shift alongside one of my closest friends and talked it all out. I felt better about myself and knew that not only was it time for an energy shift, but I knew I could do it.
Sunday I relaxed. I watched football. I hung out with my dad. Johnny came and took Xander for a few hours so I napped (for the love of everything good..I fucking napped). I hung out with my mom. I ate good food. I drank some tea. I watched Westworld.
I recharged. Both my brain and my body.
So today, I woke up ready to mom the SHIT out of this day. I got up early and cleaned my room and the nursery. I did a bunch of laundry. I made food for Xander. I took him for a walk around the park. I helped my mom with our Halloween decorations for the house. Then I went to work and rocked out a banquet. And after I post this, I’m going to go to bed instead of staying up too late watching Netflix.
You know, grown up shit.
So, back at it. Falling down, breaking down, being down... all of these things are normal. As long as I’m not staying down, I’m winning.
I was finishing up the banquet paperwork tonight at work when, out of nowhere, one of the bussers that was cleaning a table near me looked up and said, “Tina, I wish there were more women like you in the world.” I looked back at him, but he had already started walking back to the kitchen. And once again, I started to cry.
But those tears... those are the kind of tears I’m okay with.
Posted by Tina V at 12:07 AM