It’s 6am and I’m awake. Do I want to be awake on a Saturday morning at 6am? Nope. So what better way to pass the time then randomly ramble through blogging…..
I often wake up in the morning feeling magnificent. I feel energetic, awake, and fully rested. Except it’s early, and I don’t have to be awake. So I then close my eyes and drift back to the land of sleeping only to wake up and hour (or 2 or 3 ) later only to feel drained, slow, and groggy. Each time I tell myself “stop going back to sleep”. But I love to sleep! So here I am, not going back to sleep. I know I’ll feel worse if I do.
My real Dad joined FB. What a shocking friend request that was! Nevertheless, I was happy about it. Not only does this mean we will stay more connected, I don’t have to call in order for us to talk (we all now I get a big fat F- for my abilities to call people, or even answer my phone). I’m glad to see him on it and I’d like to think it will make our reconnecting stronger.
Slurpee’s are yummy. They are even better mixed with an airplane shooter of your drink of choice.
I don’t think a day will come where I don’t tear up about Ted. Yesterday was hard. Watching the sadness, the tears, all of it. I honestly don’t know how my Aunt is getting through this, but I have never in my life looked up to her and admired her heart and courage more than I do now. I don’t think I could ever or will ever be that brave. She is extraordinary.
Maybe you know this about me, maybe not. I started therapy when I was 13 and I’ve been in and out since. I’ve been seeing an amazing counselor and I’ve quickly realized an area of growth… my lack of coping skills. I can have enough humility to admit, I need help here. Please. I’m 30. It’s time to learn how to deal with life’s disappointments and shrug off the little things. Not only are there going to be more disappointments in life, but I want to strengthen my ability to still enjoy life even when it’s hard. And man, it sure can be hard.
This past week was emotionally, mentally, and physically draining. Torture. A “living hell” is how I often referred to it. So many people checked in with me, kept tabs on me, etc. Not only did I previously take for granted the amazing support group I have, I didn’t really know it existed. Knowing that not only was it going to get easier, but I had quite a few people there for me during the process made it easier. It made the week and the torture pass with additional ease and love but I didn’t feel so alone nor as scared as I normally would have. I’m eternally grateful for my remarkable and loving friends for their help, and my mom of course!
I think that’s enough rambling for today. Happy Saturday!