Lately it seems I have had a bit of writer’s block. Maybe because I have been partying so much… pity partying that is. I’m growing tired of being the only guest at this party so I thought I would invite others to wallow in misery with me. I never wake up in this partying mood, but it seems as though the sun doesn’t even get to it’s brightest in the morning before someone has slapped on my pity party hat and stuck a blower, the kind that fill with spit if you aren’t careful, right between my lips and turned me from sunshine to shit.
This is supposed to be the happiest time of the year. The holidays are upon us, pretty lights, decorations and all this happy, happy, joy, joy stuff. But I’m broke. America is broke. Like Antoine Dodson “forreal” broke. I see people everyday doing all they can to keep their homes and then realizing they are fighting a losing battle and the people that should help them. Those nice, willing people that helped them get into the home of their dreams don’t even care enough to return their phone calls now. They don’t care that these people are doing everything within their power. It’s a job they leave at 5 everyday, but to those whose calls seem to just annoy them it is lost hope and devastation 24/7. And it is people just like us. It is people who have worked for years, people with college degrees and people without, but it is good people with work ethic who have been doing all they could to keep afloat in the failing economy who just cannot fight the undertow any longer.
Life was so much easier when I was oblivious to adult problems. Even when I first became an adult I was oblivious. I didn’t realize how crushing it would be when the beautiful faces of my children who use to light up when I walked in the door became people whose basic response to general conversation is that of a grunt or nod. I didn’t know that they would walk out the door one morning and come back that afternoon unrecognizable to the point you want to shake them and scream, “Give me MY kid back!” I didn’t know it would hurt so much to allow them to totally screw up because I really cannot fix everything!
And right their lies the problem. I cannot fix it. I know I can turn it over God and in his time he will take care of every bit of it. But while I sit in the “In His Time” waiting room I don’t know what to do with myself. (And for me that is never a good thing…. “idle hands” and all.) I find myself digging deeper. If I can’t fix it, then I have this crazy need to know why it is the way it is so then maybe I can understand it. Which doesn’t seem to work well for me either because then I find out more than I needed to know and still can’t fix it. Ugh! How do people put it in God’s hands and walk away with a “oh yeah” he gave me THE prescription smile?
In discussing the holidays with a friend tonight, I stated I know I needed to be better about it to make them more special for my kids. I didn’t know it before she was gone, but I know now that it was my mother who made the holidays special. I miss my own mother so much, especially during the holidays that I haven’t learned how to do that yet. The dynamics with families after the loss of the “glue” is precarious during this time of year more than any other. And then someone goes all crazy and tries to bring in some “step” crappy stiff packing tape in place of the glue. Seriously, what are we to do with that?!
So here is what I find myself doing. Sitting up after midnight blogging because I can’t sleep, and no one wants to hear my whining. But in doing so I know, I am getting it off my chest, if only for tonight so that I can sleep. I can sleep because I know I’m probably not the only girl at a pity party for one and because I know that I am not settled in at this party. I know I can leave, I know I want to leave and soon, I will. I guess we all have to have them every so often. If you want to join my party and get it off your chest, go for it! You’ll breathe a little easier and maybe even find a smile when you are done.
