A Walk in the Snow on Saturday January 23rd

Intro note:  This post was coming fast and furious the other day. It was flying out of my fingers faster then I could think, but I didn't have the silence I needed to finish. Since I started, I have been thinking of friends that will read this.  Friends who have lost people they love recently.  Some deaths were expected, others sudden.  Some unexplained medical phenomena, others suicide.  I can't talk on suicide with much authority, and I don't mean for it to sound like I can.  I can only tell you about me.  I can tell you that as someone who has a past of self-harm, as someone who tried to take their life, it never quite goes away as an option.  I can tell you that this is NOT a cry for help.  I am fine.  But as I often tell people, although I have a healthy eating lifestyle now, I will be a recovering anorexic and bulimic for the rest of my life. I feel too, that as someone who contemplated suicide multiple times and who almost succeeded on at least one occasion, I will never be completely rid of those demons.  I have dark thoughts at times.  Never anything I would truly act on and if I felt compelled to do so, rest assured that I have a support system in place that would drop anything and everything to keep me safe.  Also, I love my kids with a ferocity that crushes any demon.  There is no question. I pray that friends who read this don't find it offensive or flippant.  That said, I wrote exactly what was going on in my brain because, well, it's what I do.

The last few days have been hard.  Harder than the norm anyway.  There are several things that have contributed to that, but mostly I'm learning that it's hard to grow.  I have been telling myself and everyone else that I can't wait to get out on my own, then I can start my new life. That right now I'm stuck and there's nothing I can do.  A friend told me yesterday as I was texting her from the side of the road in tears, "Baby Doll, embrace this moment.  Don't rush through it.  Trust me on this. Please get to know you. Show your kids who YOU are." And I texted something back that equates to "I can't do that here and now."  And she responded,  "but you're finding yourself now...you will understand when you look back.  Stop fighting your journey...you hear me?"  I can't stop thinking about that.  I wanted to schedule my growth and my new life for when I was ready...but life doesn't work that way.  

My general mood lately has been low.  Again, nothing in particular, just several things that add up.  So I cried yesterday and I cried last night and I cried in front of my husband which I DID NOT want to do today.  Sometimes it's just too much.  I want what I want right now and I want people to be the people I want them to be (including myself) and they aren't.  That is actually the crux of it right there. I'll say it again so you can see what a brat I am:  I want what I want right now and I want people to be the people I want them to be (including myself) and they aren't.  A friend suggested I go for a walk.  I debated, and when round three of the waterworks started, I bundled up and headed out.  It was actively snowing.  Visibility was low and the wind was showing off.

There was a group of neighbors on my sidewalk as mine is the house next to what is the closest thing to a sledding hill in the neighborhood.  They were chatting, drinking glüwein, watching the little ones sled and I thought maybe I would just hang for a bit, but quickly realized I had to be alone. I said I was going for a walk and went down the street.  They yelled after me to be careful because there was ice under the snow.  They were right. Thankfully I did not slip, though I mentally formulated a scenerio should I break a bone from falling and how I would get back to the house and they'd have to call an ambulance and the kids would freak out. Some with excitement, others with fear.

I wanted to walk down by the creek behind my house, but after following what must have been a plowed road several inches and hours ago, I could not find any trail going that way.  The snow was up to my waist at times when I went off the path, so I doubled back and walked toward the health clinic.  I was trying to avoid people so I steered clear of housing areas, which really wasn't necessary because there was next to noone outside.  As I came upon the clinic parking lot, a plow was heading in my direction.  The sidewalk was nowhere to be found so I stepped away from the road and toward the parking lot.  I was up to my thighs in a patch of snow.  The plow driver was doing some acrobatic manuvers with his rig, so I figured I'd better just stay out of the way.  I didn't know if he was going to go back where he came from or pass me and continue up the road where I had come from.  He didn't seem to know either so I looked at the parking lot and thought "I wonder...."  Frankly, I have no idea what I wondered. Next thing I know I had decided to trudge the length of the parking lot, maybe 40 yards.  It might be less, but I'm sticking with 40.  Sounds somewhat impressive right?

I started heading toward the clinic building.  The snow was up to my waist.  I will walk the length of this parking lot I decided.  I knew I could do it, but it wasn't gonna be easy which was enough of a reason for me to compel me. I was completely alone at this point, the plow was gone in some direction, I wasn't even sure which.  It was me, the snow, and the far end of the parking lot.  As I was pushing my way through I thought, this is wild. One of those bizarre experiences where you feel like you are possibly the only person on Earth. Cue the Dr. Zhivago theme music. 

I knew I was making progress, but the length of the lot seemed longer suddenly. I felt like I was moving my feet and not getting anywhere. Suddenly I was angry for thinking this was a good idea.  Now, it just felt dumb.  About 3/4 of the way, I stopped.  I had to catch my breath.  I was so very frustrated thinking "geez, this is gonna take forever."  And it hit me.  It was a perfect metaphor for my life.  Pushing through snow, or jello, or molasses. Anything that makes it hard to keep moving.   And I thought, my feet and legs aren't even cold.  There is not a soul around.  I could just lay down and go to sleep right here. Calmly. Quietly. Peacefully. But I didn't.  After about 13.8 seconds of cost-benefit analysis, my head was filled with the faces of those 5 little babies I held as newborns all over the States and in Germany and promised that I would never leave them intentionally.  I also promised Baby Gerard that I would take care of his siblings here if he would watch out for us from above.

I started walking again.  Now the tears tried to come, but it's hard to cry when your face is frozen.  The first few tears that dropped froze into tiny little rivers on my cheeks.  The next tears didn't even make it that far. They froze on my eyelashes.  The only thing that wasn't freezing into solid matter was my snot! And yes, you are welcome for the visual.

I stopped a second time.  Partly because I felt like I was in a dream where the hallway elongates and you can never reach the end, but also because I realized that this was a brutal workout!  I have a few freakazoid exercise friends.  I could suddenly picture Stanley, Leigh, or Sheila bringing people over here on a plow then making them trudge through the parking lot repeatedly while they yelled upbeat, chipper, annoying as hell encouragement to their students!  The thought almost made me laugh.  I figured I'd at least burned enough calories to have a Mike's when I got home so I finished going the last several yards and circled back around to the road.

I got on a road that had already seen a plow and only had a few inches of packed down snow on it. I was able to get home reasonably easily.  On the way home I didn't feel much better.  I was still frustrated, and in turn, depressed.  But I was physically tired.  Somehow that helped a little bit.  It was really the only thing that changed so I had to go with it. I pondered again the metaphor of trudging through the snow and how it was so similar to my current situation.  It was eerie I thought.  And then I thought, wait, what if no one else would think that's cool?  Maybe they would think it's weird...maybe they would think I'm weird.

This journey of mine is not only to find Mary again, but also, to love her.  To appreciate her quirks and accept that it doesn't matter what anyone else thinks.  If someone doesn't like me, I need to learn that that is okay.  I like me...or at least I'm trying to.  Yes, I'm dramatic. Yes, I can get very deep.  Yes, melancholy and depression are familiar faces.  Yes, I laugh so hard that I cry.  Yes, I feel like 80% of song lyrics are somehow directed at or describing me, my life, my situation.  Yes, I take them as my own and quote them in general conversation. Yes, I see metaphors all over the place.  Similes? Not so much.  And Yes, I crack myself up.  Yes, I do.  And yet, I still am unsure that Mary is worth the love that I hope she deserves.  Even from myself.

What if, I wonder, I end up alone?  What if no one else ever understands me the way I am finally learning to understand myself?  Will that be so bad?  Yes and No. Yes, as my first thought that came to mind when my marriage shattered was "Who will I be buried next to?" True story -  my sister, who made me repeat it three times because it was such a bizarre question to ask at that moment of hysteria, will attest to it. No, as these kids will always be here for me.  (I am hoping figuratively, but kinda nervous it may be literally). Additionally, I have friends that amaze me on a daily basis with their love and support.  But what if, I never have a partner that not only understands my metaphors- but likes to hear them?  What if, I never find someone who feels music the way I do? What if, I never find someone that wants to ride with me on the highs and lows? What if?

I was almost back home and not feeling much better.  But you are physically tired I told myself,  physically tired is good.  Physically tired is too tired to cry. Physically tired is too tired to fall apart. Physically tired is too tired to fight or yell. Many years ago I learned that physically tired was too tired to hurt myself. Ie:  Physically tired is safe.

And then I remembered; there was a person who understood me once.  A person who picked up on my metaphors sometimes before I did.  A person who understood my need to connect through music.  A person who could see into my soul.  He was there and gone in the blink of an eye.  I won't bore you with the details, but once upon a time, there was a person. It suddenly occurred to me that I found one person that "got" me.  Just because he wasn't the one, doesn't mean there won't be another. Maybe. That was my thought as I trudged back to the house and was met with wet hats, gloves, and boots, dirty hot cocoa mugs, and hangry kids.

Was I happy? No.  

Did I wonder why I didn't lay down in the parking lot?  Briefly.  

Was I physically exhausted? Yes.  

Did I take a journey? Yes.

Did I grow? Yes

And that, my friends was success.

Epilogue:

Later that night I took the dog for a walk, because, you know, I have no children capable of such activities.  Actually, I volunteered as I enjoy late night snow walks where the moon is out and it is bright in an ass-backwards kinda way.  My walk began on the same road I had started out on a few hours before.  I can't remember how I spent the time between walks, but I was a completely different person than the one who trudged up this street earlier.  Really.  I was at peace.  I was comfortable.  I felt at ease in my own skin.  I smiled.  AND I was happy.  The highs, the lows, this journey- it's time to embrace it.  "Man I love this life."