How Did I Get Here, And Where Is The Next Turn?

Greetings and salutations to all who deem this worthy of your time...

Brought up Nov 23, 2013

"Shining Like a Diamond, Rolling with the Dice..."

She's BAAAAACK!!

For the first time in weeks, I slept through the night, woke with few aches, walked my entire 2 miles and could have probably walked farther, my beloved Bon Jovi jam blasting one step below painful in my head. One of my self imposed burdens has lifted a bit, I guess.

See, the past couple of weeks or so, I have been struggling, trying to deal with something I never expected. Still can't really talk about that, but I can fess up to a bit of it's aftermath.

I'm smoking again.

I was too ashamed to tell the Punk. I don't understand why that is, or why disappointing him, or any of those I love, breaks my heart like it does. The thing with the Punk is that his lectures always make me turn to self reflection. Others will yell, swear, make me feel like I could sit on a dime and swing my feet, but not him, usually. There have been a couple of times I felt that low when chatting with him, but it comes from berating myself over my own stupidity.

Anyway, Thursday, I tried to sidestep the issue when he mentioned my not smoking. It made my insides squirm like I swallowed a bag full of baby pythons that had begun to squeeze me from the inside. I've had that feeling for the past few weeks, but this time it became painful.

Yesterday, in Punk fashion, he called me out on it, sort of.

Long story short, yes, I have been smoking to deal with my tiny corner of the world caving in on me in a few spots.

The thing with the Punk is, he always says, "It's your choice."

It always makes me turn inward, trying to figure out why I do or say what ever it is that is 'my choice.'

He said he was disappointed FOR me, not with me. There, I think, is the big difference between when others chew me out and his lectures.

As he said, he doesn't have a horse in the race.

The Wee Woman, the brats, the husband, all of them, more or less, their lives are intertwined with mine. Family is like that, after all, and what happens to me, more or less, I guess will affect them all.

With the Punk, it's different. What ever happens to me will barely cause a ripple in his world.

And yet, he takes the time to chat with me, show concern, and help me in ways no one else seems able to help.

He has become a spiritual adviser, a shoulder to cry on, a clown to make me laugh, and the oddest butt kicker in my life.

Because he ALWAYS turns it toward what my screw up has done to me, not how it affects others, or even how it affects him most of the time.

For some reason, disappointing him hits even harder for that.

Anyway, fessing up to him, taking my medicine, crying it out, hell, maybe just the new work shoes, something has lifted a bit of what has been making me feel like road kill. It's pulled me back from the edge of that black abyss that I still dance beside.

Now, if I can just figure out why the effing cigarettes are so damned attractive... If I can work that out, and deal with it once and for all, I can maybe beat that monkey off my back.

My 'fight' is returning, what ever it is that keeps me pushing back when I feel like life is pushing me down. It's even harder this time, since the problem, ultimately, is not mine, but one I love with every fiber of my being. All I can do is support by being a shoulder for this person. Being so helpless, I think, makes the sitch so hard for me. One of the first times ever I can be of no other help at all...

Oh, and below, the song that had me bouncing on my walk. The last line really gets me going...

"When the world keeps trying to drag me down, gotta raise my hands, gonna stand my ground... I say, HAVE A NICE DAY!" Yeah, I think that's the right idea.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=uCg2BoKiuOM

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The Punk » 4 years ago

whew! I'm glad to read this.. i felt a little bad after our chat Friday - I'm glad you haven't decided to quit talking to me.

BUT.. when i replayed our conversation last night i regretted saying that whole 'no horse in the race' thing. It was defensive of me - protecting. Fact is: I do care about you and i do not want you to suffer the consequences of smoking - so i guess a horse named 'a Hobbits tail' is at the line....