Life's been good to me. I ought to stop complaining.
I know that regular readers will comment and remind me that they don't mind my venting, that they feel privileged to be able to read my screeds, that they love to listen and to help me heal. I love those notes; they warm my heart and help me feel less alone in my journey toward a fluid gait. I'm annoyed with myself for something else.
I know that I have to write about my stumbling blocks, and I know that I am lucky to have you out there to read them. If I kept the feelings bottled up inside, I'd never make any progress at all. Sometimes, the sadness or the slowness or the achiness wells up and pours out through my fingertips. I'm glad to watch it leave my soul. For my own good, I can rob it of power by typing it to you.
I was never a diary keeper. The Burrow is like a long letter to good friends. It feel less self-indulgent than writing only for myself. There's something very cleansing about putting my thoughts down, forever. I'll always remember that I was cranky on June 17, 2013. I just have to re-read the post. If I need it, I know where to find it. I try to avoid needing it.
There are times, like right now, where I feel like a character in a Jane Austen novel, sitting across from Miss Mr. Darcy as he writes to his sister, who has remained in town. I'm out here preserving the moment in time by sharing it with you. I'm so lucky to have the chance to examine my life among strangers and friends and family and I'm annoyed with myself for letting us down.
There are issues to be discussed and funny stories to be told, but I'm wallowing in the doldrums. I'm too hot.... I'm too tired.... I have company.... all true, none good enough. We deserve better. You deserve better.
I can list the things that have brought me down here, but why dwell on them when I'm looking for a way up and out? I'm going to concentrate on the good parts, the rewarding parts, the parts that don't make me scream or cry or howl. I'm done swirling in the abyss.
As TBG told the obstetrician while I lay cursing the air I breathed, I need to feel the bottom before I can start taking charge. It didn't take very long then, and it didn't take that long now, either. I'm sorry for the inconvenience... sorry for whimpering..... glad you are still hanging around.... ready to take on the world.
Come back tomorrow, when Jeff Flake is, once again, on my radar.