good days & bad days

“You don’t have to live my shitty little life, and until you do, do not tell me to give up the one person who matters to me, okay! Because, I know, he’s not perfect, but he’s the one person that will show up, on my birthday, and he’ll say, “I’m glad you were born!” ~ Gwen (Sandra Bullock) from the movie, 28 Days.
I should actually edit that quote to say something more along the lines of this is my shitty little life, but no one gets to take my girls away from me. The ones that would show up and say they’re glad I’m alive. I looked for thirty years to find that kind of sisterhood you see in the movies, and I truly have. There are the three of us, and we each have our struggles right now. Ging and I have a really extra-special bond because we both suffer from Fibro and have finally found someone who understands. Really *really* understands, and that is among the most precious things each and any of us can possibly possess. Chris and I have a bond, Ging and Chris have a bond, but the three of us are good for each other’s soul. Those are my girls. I need them like air.
No one else has to live our shitty little lives, but we support each other through them. Through the great days when Chris finds a new job so she’s not so scared of landing on her ass anymore, and the days of graduations and celebrations, and anniversary’s, and the moments we neatly tuck away in a scrap book. But more importantly, through the really shitty days when the rest of the world is kicking our asses. Individually, and collectively. Chris has doctors that won’t listen to her or show her any kindness or compassion, just the same as Ging as I do. She doesn’t have to go through having Fibro to face some of the same health care crap. Because health care for women sucks balls anyway, it’s just worse if you have to battle it all the damn time.
I was sitting on my bed, in the dark tonight, crying, completely overwhelmed by everything right now. My (almost, but just not quite yet) 18 year old is kicking the crap out of me emotionally because she just graduated and moved 6,000 miles away and is struggling to find her own way. My 16 year old boy is driving me to distraction because I just can’t get him where he needs to be. I wonder if I was too over-protective because now he doesn’t want to grow up (but that’s another blog). And my 7-year old is busy most days wrapping her daddy around her teeny little finger. I can’t pee without an audience because it hasn’t occurred yet to my 11 month old kitten that just because she thinks she’d like to eat that I don’t necessarily need to drop everything and make that happen for her. Finally, I have a very neurotic 10-year old Border Collie who climbs in the bathtub every time she hears thunder….and we live in Florida. So that’s fun.
I just got my mom back into my life. We just started talking again after not seeing her for two-and-a-half years, so it’s very new and fragile and I really, really don’t want to screw it up. I would like to have my mom in my life. I would like to have a chance at getting that right.
Add all of this into the daily, sometimes agonizing struggle with Fibro, and bulging disks, and an artificial hip, and….and…who the hell lives like this??? At 36?
I have good days and bad days just like everyone else, and I don’t care if you’re a gold medal Olympian, there are going to be days that you look in the mirror and think “wtf?!”. So, today I am drowning, and I felt like I had no where at all to run. Nothing to save me, and yes, I was feeling profoundly sorry for myself even though I didn’t want to, and keep telling myself that I shouldn’t. But it was just the simple thought “should I text G and see if she’s still up?’. She’s on vacation, and maybe…just maybe, she’s getting a little sleep right now, so I was hesitant. But realizing that I could, if I really *really* needed her, call her anyway, was enough. I immediately felt like I had found my life vest. Chris had a shitastic day too, and I would have stopped whatever I was doing if she called me. It just hit me, in the dark, in my tears, that I had my girls, and I was going to be okay.

Have you any idea why a raven is like a writing desk?

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