(no subject)
last post from home
I haven't much to say...
looking forward to the whole shindig at mom's...especially since I wont be part of the utter pre-party chaos of stellar (knowing mom) and painful proportions. fireworks. Yay! explosives! coloured ones at that.
the only shadow, I will miss having my cowering puppy. they've already started with the fireworks...she'd be cowering in my room this minute...shivering and whining and trying to climb in my lap. (or under my bed) with the first few she'd jump up and pace...clicking and clacking with her pointy little toenails on the wood floor...then she'd come snuffle at my door jam.
grief, as I said. grief upon grief. I'm not trying to be melodramatic...just, stating what I (finally) realized was/is going on. what the backsliding was /is about...what all this turmoil was/is about. sliding into old habits, things I used to do/think/act but don't fit who I thought I'd become. maybe old patterns are like a riverbed carved over time. it's sometimes easier, second nature, to follow them when life gets hard.
not that it's fair or right. and it's only worse that I can never seem to say things that are understood the way I mean them. examples become comparisons I never intended...and what is plain to me seems a contradiction to others. and I have no way of finding my way back to where it went wrong...where the misconception started...and unravel all the frustration.
enough though. I'm tired and it's too late/early to be obsessing over something, not if I intend to sleep anyway.
I haven't much to say...
looking forward to the whole shindig at mom's...especially since I wont be part of the utter pre-party chaos of stellar (knowing mom) and painful proportions. fireworks. Yay! explosives! coloured ones at that.
the only shadow, I will miss having my cowering puppy. they've already started with the fireworks...she'd be cowering in my room this minute...shivering and whining and trying to climb in my lap. (or under my bed) with the first few she'd jump up and pace...clicking and clacking with her pointy little toenails on the wood floor...then she'd come snuffle at my door jam.
grief, as I said. grief upon grief. I'm not trying to be melodramatic...just, stating what I (finally) realized was/is going on. what the backsliding was /is about...what all this turmoil was/is about. sliding into old habits, things I used to do/think/act but don't fit who I thought I'd become. maybe old patterns are like a riverbed carved over time. it's sometimes easier, second nature, to follow them when life gets hard.
not that it's fair or right. and it's only worse that I can never seem to say things that are understood the way I mean them. examples become comparisons I never intended...and what is plain to me seems a contradiction to others. and I have no way of finding my way back to where it went wrong...where the misconception started...and unravel all the frustration.
enough though. I'm tired and it's too late/early to be obsessing over something, not if I intend to sleep anyway.