Well, this evening's show featured a girl who lost her father in an accident. She started to cry and then I started to cry. It really doesn't matter why someone is crying, when I see tears, I cry too. So, I am blubbering away, trying to hide my teary eyes from my kids and then I start to feel really low. I start to think how fast life goes by. My daughter's sweet little head was in my lap and I played with her hair as we watched the show together and I thought how horrible it would be for her to lose her dad. She loves her father more than anything or anyone (including me, I think). When I thought about that, I started to feel really low. I started to feel my irrational fear of death bubble up. What if something happens to Ian? I don't know how to manage grief very well. What would I do? How could I ever help them through that? And I started to feel really really sad. Sad and helpless.
Of course, these thoughts took me down an even darker tunnel and I started to feel ripped off. I started to feel sorry for myself and then it all went to anger. I became angry about death and life and time and how it passes and on and on. I sought isolation so that I might have a good cry. I didn't need to cry in the end though. I just did what I always do. I just reasoned it out. I pulled my mind back from the brink. It's taken me years to figure out how to do that but I can do it. It ain't easy, but it can be done.
We all love our families. We all fear the same thing. I don't understand death and I will keep searching for answers as long as I am alive, but I know better than to dwell on it. Death is a fact of life and according to this show, the spirit world is a pretty hopping place so maybe death is not the end. Maybe there really is no end, just other dimensions? Maybe there is a heaven. Maybe it would be okay to believe.
To add a little lighter fluid to my already fiery mind, I almost threw a major tantrum over the amount of learning I am going to need to do in order to finish this degree program I've embarked on (English Major). It's going to take me years. Years! What am I thinking?! This isn't throwing together a column or story for a newspaper to an editor who seemed to show me a little favoritism. No. This, dear me, is tough on a whole other level. I didn't know what to expect, but I know there were times when I was that kid in math class who didn't understand and instead of asking for help, I would just cry. Or get angry and bite myself (yes, I did that--don't ask me why because I don't know).
I've got no right to be so ridiculous anymore. I know I can do this and yes it's out of my comfort zone and yes my brain hasn't worked this hard in quite a while, but I can do it. My sister encouraged me in a big way tonight which I obviously needed. She told me I could do it and she is right. I mean, I hope she is right. I am not feeling too confident about anything right now. It's likely just the phase of the moon. By tomorrow this time I will probably be zinging off the walls on cloud nine or ten.
I've acknowledged my frustrations, now I will acknowledge that I need to get over them all. I've had my time to fall apart, now that time is over. It's time to just get going. Broken, bruised, scarred and weathered, it is time to evolve into a better version of myself which, let's admit it, will be pretty darned amazing. I know it. You know it. That's why you took the time to read this whole thing.