Tuesday, July 17, 2012

I'm Coming Out

Since having to say goodbye to the calm, beautiful, dear, and fun Siddy-La on July 5, there seems to be a constant stream of anxiety and difficulty, enough to be actively embarrassing.  A period of high productivity both at work and on the novel has crashed into a period of uncharacteristic (I hope, anyway) middle-aged middle-class chick fretfulness and melodrama, lost sleep, rash decisions, and second-guessing (that one is definitely atypical for me).

It's always tricky getting back to oneself when emotions run high, particularly negative emotions, and remorse - being a smartass - is a remorseless one.  When awful things happen, even without intent, women like me run the risk (or the likelihood, in the case of the MANY of us trained to embrace martyrdom and worse) of being consumed with misplaced (or appropriate, sometimes) guilt, selfish fear, the whole self-flagellating nine yards.  Even KNOWING we're "doing it" - even knowing, perhaps, intellectually, that there may be no reason to beat ourselves up, the inexorability of emotion is inescapable.  You have to go through it, and - if you are fortunate - you do get to come out the other side.

After some days now of one of these periods, I'm coming out.


Not least of the bouyants in my life are my friends; particularly, these days, my work friends.  There are two women there who are generous and delightful, supportive and deserving of return in kind, and just neat.  One spontaneously sent me flowers after some sad family news some time back.  Another gave me pickles and relish when she canned her own recently.  It doesn't get better than that - and yet, really, it does.  These examples are the least of the kindness they have shared, and I'm incredibly grateful.

It's always good to have kvetch-partners in an office, and sadly right now, having recently incurred some body work on my car and enjoying a new bout of stiff-back, I seem to be the one of us having the best week of all three.  Never a good sign.

Nothing quite like perspective, to drag your head out of your own ... navel ... and remind you your blessings (a trip to the ER can have the same effect, at that).  I pray blessings for these blessings of friends - and surprises, too, of the fun kind.

And for their arrival, too, on the other side.  Everybody - come out:  the grass is greener, here on the other side.

1 comment:

K.E. Skedgell said...

Wishing you the best. It is hard losing a beloved pet. Been there many times.