Tuesday, June 26, 2012

I'm Pissed ...

I know in England to say one is "pissed" is to admit to being a bit inebriated.  But in Maine it means one is ... what?  Angry?  Frustrated?  Angry and frustrated and overwhelmed?That's the one.

I'm pissed ....

... that Jim died so damn early and left me here.

... that I have to start this all over again with no instruction manual to consult.

... that I miss that man so much.

... that sometimes I find myself falling right back into the same old patterns.  The colors seem to have changed, confusing me enough to think that maybe it is a new pattern.  But it's not.  It's just a different colored one.

... that everything has changed and nothing has changed.

... that I may never be able to retire and "live the good life" ... in Maine ... "the way life should be"... with health care.

... that I'm in a funk again and this time it's the color RED - angry and infected.

... that I'm feeling more code-pendant than inde-pendant.

... that I have, yet, another dear one who is fighting her personal war with cancer.  She lives in New Zealand and thus I feel even more hobbled to change this or to help in any way ... so I tell her she's in my thoughts ... if a thought counts ... and I send her all my love over the thousands of miles of deep blue.

... that it's raining and my brain feels moldy.

... that everything is gray and grayer today.  My crows are black ... I need a Cockatoo, a Quetzal, a Cardinal ... a flash of dazzling color and magic.

... that I can't feel the magic today.

... that I react so badly to black fly bites - which dominate the north woods of Maine this time of year - and all these bites are still itching days later ... angry, hard, sore, raised welts that bleed when I scratch the hell out of them but, as good as it feels to do this, it offers no relief ... all this from a bug the size of this exclamation point!

... that my dearest little 4-legged friend is getting too old to run with me, and so I must find the ambition to go it alone this gray morning.

... that I look into the mirror and wish I could rearrange the picture ... like a Miss Potato Head ... give me new body parts.  Right.  Like this would make me happy.

... that nothing can really "make me happy" ... except my own ability to change this mood.

... because I seem to have lost that little thing ... ability to ... this morning.

... that confessing all this may drag some of you down ... but it may have helped me just a wee bit.


But I'm still capable of saying this ... and meaning it ...

... Loving you all back,

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