This time next year....

I'm hanging out in bed all month long. It is not a good month

for me professionally. Well, not exactly, I did get my job two

years ago in July. But last July? Not so good. This July? Not

much better. I don't know what my deal is with boundaries. I

think they should come with warning lights and a siren so as

you near one you know immediately and can back off. I guess

the warning is my gut instinct, but at any rate, I ignored it

and thusly, find myself proclaiming just how stupid I am once

again.


In fact, as with most times during my life, I have a song that

fits this mood near perfectly. The stong is "Stupid" by Sarah McLachlan. It was on repeat play on the way home from work

today, as was "My Immortal" by Evanescence. I was depressed.

I still am. And if you'd like to be depressed too, or are just

curious, feel free to click the links to read the lyrics.


But I'll pop out the other end. I always do. My Dad likens me

to that Rubbertree Plant song. I think it has something to do

with ants. I don't know if this is the right version or if this

one is. Dad....um, if you are out there in cyberland can you

confirm this for me?


The thing is, I don't know if I'll pop out the other end and still

be in the same place I am now. I may find that through the

process, it will lead me somewhere else. And that, although

it might be very well what I need, sends a bit of anxiety

through me.


I half-jokingly, half-quite seriously said recently that I am

going to go find Jesus. It isn't that I'm going to go run off to

the convent and become a nun (ummmm....you do know

what "nun" really stands for right? No? Well it sounds a lot

like, "NONE" and that is NONE FUN for me) or that I am going

to sign up for the 700 club, because I'm pretty sure one won't

find Jesus with conservative Christians. Shocking? No.


I think I need to find Jesus my own little way. A lot of sitting

on a rock starring at the ocean (Mom, I so get this now. I'm

sorry I was such a whiny bitch to you on all those trips to

Monterey when all you wanted to do was stare at the ocean

and all I wanted to do was, like, duh, SHOP!). A lot of

writing, of which I've neglected. Perhaps I'll go visit my kin

outta state (Sherry, count this as your advance warning and

Denise, you gotta a spare bedroom right?).


I'm going to remember how dark and dreary and heartbroken I

was last night over my naivete and stupidity and that I cried

out for help (don't worry, I cried out mentally, otherwise I

would have gotten help, just of the medicated

variety....damn....why didn't I cry out loud? Totally missed

the boat on that one....) and eventually through all my heart

thrashing I came to a place of utter calmness. I would have

liked an angel. Preferably dressed in shades of calming green

and a little glittery. But there was no angel. Jesus didn't sit

at the foot of my bed. I don't blame him, I don't.


The calmness segued into sleep. And when I awoke, I didn't

have Jesus sitting on my bed but I had my father standing in

the doorway asking me if I was planning on going to work. I

got ready. I felt the heaviness in my heart. And then Dad

said, "Is today the day?" And I said, "Yup, today's the day I

meet my maker."


And then he coached me calmly....act this way, say it this

way, don't say this, don't say too much, make sure there are

two people there so there is one as a witness, keep calm,

don't offer too much, try to keep your answers to "yes" or

"no." I stopped doing everything....stopped gathering the

work stuff, the cellphones and like in a trance said, "Yes" and

"Okay" to everything he was saying.


At one point I said, "Wow....I asked for help from Jesus. I

asked for help from God. I was a bit sad that an angel didn't

appear speaking calm words to me. But I still felt calm, and

then I fell asleep. And I woke up to what I had been praying

for. It's like, Jesus is answering my prayer through you." And

in his calm demeanor he said, "Maybe that's why He told me

to talk to you."


Now, groan if you must. I don't expect anyone to understand

this. And people misunderstanding the above will not

diminish it in anyway. I was in a dark, dark place last night. I

think it is one step before you decide that razors and pills are

your bestest friends and you are going to go on a special

outing with both of them. That bad.


And whereas the event that I went through was still painful

and shameful, I am still breathing. Yes, I am still breathing,

and a little deeper at that. It is over. It is done with.


Now comes the slow rebuilding, one day at a time. The

introspection onto what causes what in me. Why I do the

things I do. A lot of writing. I know the reasons why. It isn't

about knowing the reasons anymore. It's about healing the

reasons.


And I'm going to find Jesus. And I am going to be glad. And I'm

going to feel so blessed, so grateful.


And I'm going to find a way to mend the outgoing, blabbering,

sassy, witty, bold me with the calm, slow to act and slow to

speak, thinking, caring and loving me. The second side that

most people don't see because I found ways to protect my

sensitivity with sarcasm and humor. I'll find a way to mend

both sides.


Really, I'm just a torn quilt right now. All my patches coming

apart, some divided. But it's nothing that a steady hand

holding a needle and thread can't heal with a little time and

patience.


And most of all, I'm going to remember that God oftens acts

through people. And perhaps, just maybe, my calling is to be

one of those people God can work through to help others.

Well yes, I know this for sure. I need to help people who can't

help themselves, it has been a driving desire for a few years

now, since the time I needed people to help me because I

had reached my own limits of resourcefulness and life had me

up against a brick wall. And I swore that if ever I could help

people who were slammed against that brick wall of life, I

would.


Stay tuned......