sueeeus

I am happy to bid adieu to 2012.  I would say that 2012 took me for a ride, but it would be more honest to say that I let 2012 take me for a ride.  I could call it the ride of a lifetime.  Woohoo!  Put a bright spin on it.  A ride indeed.  I think I may have experienced some of the highest highs and the lowest lows of my life in good ‘ole 2012.

It’s all good, really.  My life is full.  My children are happy and healthy.   We have a roof over our heads, clothes on our backs, food in our bellies, and warm beds to sleep in.

There is beauty and wisdom in all things, no matter the circumstance.  It just takes a certain perspective to be able to see it.

I won’t say that losing one’s children to the slaughter of a mad man has any beauty in it, but the shock and the horror force (some of) us to take note of our family circles, be more vigilant, hold our children more, and be more grateful for every little moment, and embrace it all.  Even when we’re at our wits end and drowning in frustration.  All these things are trifles.  I want to drink it all in.  Treasure. Every.  Moment.

The time that the children are children is fleeting.  I blinked my eyes and see so many of my nieces and nephews and my friends’ children are already grown.  Grown!  Where did the years go?

My hair is turning (more) gray.  My skin is starting to show its wear.

Professionally, I did well in 2012.  I had some lofty goals and I had actually admitted defeat to myself as well as my boss that it was unlikely that I’d be able to finish the super project before the end of the work year.   I pressed on, and somehow (by the grace of God and the skin of my teeth) I did it!  I felt like a superstar, and it was a great sense of accomplishment.  I don’t think it really mattered much to anyone but me, that I finished by the deadline, but it did matter to me, and I was/am pleased with myself  –pauses to pat self on back.  I suppose I ought to acknowledge that being a superstar for a moment barely compensates for all the days that my performance was distracted and disjointed from the emotional fray that I was buried in for the better part of the year.

Spiritually I’ve had some growth in 2012.  Not the sort of growth that a mainstream Christian might acknowledge or agree with, but I’ve learned some things and for that I’m grateful.  I thought that I wanted to settle into a church family, but realize that I’m truly not drawn that way.  I love the people, I love the worship.  But I belong to a church that is not made with hands, and that church is my home, wherever I am.  I don’t hunger for the company of a congregation, and I’m secure in the knowledge that I am a child of God.

This year has been a rough ride for me emotionally.  I’ve endured much.  I’ve made my loved ones endure much.  I tried so very hard to do more than I am able to do.  Like that image of a circus performer spinning plate after plate after plate.  I had so many plates spinning, but I just couldn’t keep it up, and they all came crashing down.  Lord, how I tried.  I gave it a good shot, though!

Physically, the twists and turns and ups and downs have taken their toll.  Whereas I’ve maintained my weight for most of the year, the past few months have seen a dramatic change in overall physical well-being.  From the moment that I made the decision to re-find myself, I’ve put on weight and my blood sugar has climbed.  Something’s got to give, I suppose.  I’m trying not to panic.  I’m attempting to take it in stride and breathe deeply, knowing that things will settle once I get a stronger grip on the emotional side of my life.

So where am I now?  I don’t really know.  In transition, I suppose.  I’m not settled.  I’m not where I want to be.  But I’m changing and standing faithfully where I need to stand.  I tell myself not to be afraid.  I tell myself that everything will be okay.  And it is.

adieu 2012

I’m feeling troubled.  It’s been a trying weekend.  Friday morning two of my production sites went haywire, and it was a scramble to try and get them fixed, to no avail.  Server migration and database connectivity issues.  Ho hum.  I have a pretty good idea of what needs to be done to repair everything, but conveying that to the help desk with the right telephone keypad menu choices is practically impossible.  So much for automated system support.  I kept checking status and resubmitting tickets all weekend long.  Again, to no avail.  Monday rolls around and I’m frantically chasing things down.  One of my tickets got linked to someone else’s ticket, and ended up in a database admin’s queue, which did neither of us any good.  I know there are reasons why server administration is tightly governed, but sometimes it would be so nice to be allowed some control over these things.  I could have fixed my problem in 5 minutes or less, but it took 3 days.

Somewhere in the midst of all that I had the thought that I really shouldn’t let it bother me so much.  The world will continue and 3 days in the scheme of things is 3 days.  Nobody will remember it after everything’s up and running again.

Friday evening when everyone had gone to bed, we heard some annoying revving sounds in the distance.  They went on for quite some time, so D got up to look out the window, and saw a man standing at the edge of the deck staircase on the side yard, as if he were about to come up to the house.  D got up and went to investigate and I stayed put for a little while, then I called the neighbors and told them we’d seen somebody lurking.  They called the sheriff.  Meanwhile, I noticed that my bedroom slider was ajar.  I use that door to step onto the bedroom patio when I need to use the phone, because I don’t get a signal inside the house, but it has been days since I took a call upstairs.  So I’m perplexed at the door being ajar, and wondering how long it’s been that way.

So many questions.  We live out in the country.  We’re not walking distance from anything or anyone.  There’s no reason for a pedestrian to be out and about, let alone walking in or across my property, and especially not at 9 pm in the pitch black night of winter.

D and I checked every nook and cranny of my house.  He said the lights inside my car were on, in the garage.  Odd.  The kids tend to leave their lights on from time to time, but these were the front cabin lights, and they never touch them.  Strange.

I’m left with the feeling that somebody might have been in my house or my garage or both.

It’s creepy, and very hard to even think about.  The whole weekend D stuck around, and I was so glad for his presence.  What if he hadn’t been there?  What if that car hadn’t been making all that noise off in the distance?  What if that man would have come into my house?  What if he’d have come in through my bedroom slider?

I kept thinking that I don’t even have the emotional capacity to be afraid.  It’s too much for me.  I didn’t have any room for fear.  It was an odd and interesting mental and emotional place to find myself.  Later, Sunday, after D had gone home and after I put the kids to bed, I climbed into bed and thought about things and sobbed for a little while, allowing myself to consider fear.  And while I was thinking about it, praying about keeping my family safe, I prayed for that guy.  Bless those who curse you.  I hope that whatever drove him to lurk on my property has departed and that his heart and intent from here forward will be to be good and not cause trouble for himself or anybody else.

Back to tonight.  I’m exhausted after a long work day.  I asked D if he wanted to Skype for a little while.  We were on for only a few minutes and he said he wanted to go.  I said goodbye, and felt queasy, as though my insides were churning.  Minutes later he posted on FaceBook that he’s ” feeling ??  not sure what to do”.

Friday morning Gadget’s daughter gave birth to a healthy baby girl.  He’s a grandpa now, and by some weird extension, I’m a sort of ex step grandma.  Meanwhile some crazy person in Connecticut took the lives of so many people, so many children.  I can’t even think about it, it hurts too much.  And later that day, all of the above.

It’s exhausting, all of this.  I’m feeling worn out on all levels.

All levels.

finding me in me

I’ve decided to take a journey to find myself.  It’s been a long time, and I’ve lost track of who I am.  It’s easy to do, this business of getting lost.  Especially when one tends to be an emotional sponge.  I am so good at absorbing the emotions that surround me that far too often I don’t even realize that they’re not MY emotions!  In fact, it is only just now dawning on me that  more often than not, this is the case.  It’s an exciting discovery, really.  All this time I thought I was depressed or anxious, and simultaneously perplexed at how that could be.  And lo!  The internet has an explanation and a solution!  Step by step measures one can take to regroup and regain composure. I’ve known for some time that I  am blessed (or cursed) with empathy, but it was more of a general concept that I accepted, but hadn’t actually explored.

I found a bundle of information, and quite a lot of it seems to stem from Dr. Judith Orloff’s writings.  She has this handy dandy quiz, and since my answer is a resounding ‘yes’ to pretty much every item on the list, I can conclude for the moment (until Google reveals something new….  ….ah how I love the internet) that I’ve found my emotional type.

QUIZ: AM I AN EMPATH?

Ask yourself:

Have I been labeled as “too emotional” or overly sensitive?

If a friend is distraught, do I start feeling it too?

Are my feelings easily hurt?

Am I emotionally drained by crowds, require time alone to revive?

Do my nerves get frayed by noise, smells, or excessive talk?

Do I prefer taking my own car places so that I can leave when I please?

Do I overeat to cope with emotional stress?

Am I afraid of becoming engulfed by intimate relationships?

If you answer “yes” to 1-3 of these questions, you’re at least part empath. Responding “yes” to more than 3 indicates that you’ve found your emotional type.

(excerpted from How to Know if You’re an Empath)

Knowledge is power.  I can work with this.  I can follow some of the advice for finding balance.  I can give myself permission to accept that this is part of who I am, or how I am, and I can learn to live better with myself.  And others, by extension.

There is still quite a bit to unearth.  So many days I feel the need to just ‘hole up’ and regroup or recover.  Gather my little chickies, tuck them snugly under my wings and sit tight.  I don’t want to see people, go anywhere, talk to anyone.  I just want to be quiet.

And that’s okay.  Because that is part of me and what I need.

And it’s okay to be me!