I am Worth Loving

Worth Loving

I stood in a roomful of people on Saturday afternoon and wanted to scream, LOOK AT ME! LISTEN! GIVE TWO SHITS ABOUT ME! From across the room, Roger Darling could see the frustration on my face. My brow was furrowed. The wrinkles between my eyebrows made prominent as I tried to hold my emotions in check. He came up behind me and rubbed my back. It gave me reassurance that at least one person in the room “got” me. There was another person there that had my back too. We sat and chatted. I wished that I could sit in a quieter room with him and shoot the shit. I love the man that looks like Tommy Lee Jones. He loves me too. I always thought I was looking for love and validation from him. Turns out, I always had both. He’s proud of me. And my little family too.

Rog and I made our way out to the car. I told him I was so glad we were going to see our kids. I needed to laugh. Hell, we both did. We’d had a sucky ass week. As we made our way to Ypsilanti he looked over at me and asked, “are you okay?” I replied, “fuck no.” Tears streamed down my face. I lost my breath and shook my hands in the air. “Honey, we’re going to see the kids, it’ll be okay.” That’s my Roger Darling, always trying to make me see the positive in the middle of a negative situation. I told him, “I just don’t understand why they don’t like me. What’d I ever do, but be born different?” He stroked my hand and let me finish crying. That evening there was laughter and conversation with our kids. It more than made up for the few moments of unhappiness earlier in the day.

As we made our way home Saturday night, I checked Facebook on my iPhone and saw the quote graphic by Danu Grayson. I shared it with my FB friends and found that there were many others that felt the same. RD voiced, “you could have been the one that penned that quote.” I heartily agreed and cried again. Not for long though. A post was already noodling in my brain. One about love and acceptance. I decided right then and there that I could cry over a few people that don’t “get” me. Or, I could accept the fact that they never will. Instead, I’ll revel in the glory of all of those that do. For they far outnumber the ones that don’t.

I am loved. I return that love, every day. With word, gesture, touch, smile, laugh, advice and story. I know that I will always be loved. Always.

A Writer’s Frustration

Thank you my lovely Duane for sending this to me. I sure needed the pick me up!

There is nothing more frustrating for a writer than not being able to write. I’m in so much pain I can’t even hold a pen. I’ve been this way for a month. A pinched nerve in my upper back has made even the simplest task a chore. Lifting heavy dogs at the salon has finally taken a toll on my body. It’s frustrating, because in some ways I just got this body of mine back. I don’t want anything to slow me down. I lived slow for too long.

Most of the time I look at a picture and the words come to me. Yesterday I looked at a picture and the story I wrote was shit.  All I think about now is the pain in my upper back, shooting down my arm, to my fingertips. There’s numbness and tingling up and down my arm. I tried conventional medicine. Ibuprofen and muscle relaxants. Rest, Icy Hot and a damn heating pad. Nothing worked. The pain has worsened. It’s all I think about and it’s driving me mad. I cry at the drop of a hat. Which of course is typical for me. But not because of physical pain. You know me, it’s my emotions that get to me. A dying flower could make me cry if the mood hits me right.

I have given up and gone to a chiropractor. I was uncertain of the process, but I’m willing to try anything. The first neck adjustment scared the hell out of me. I gasped and the doctor asked if I was okay. I smiled and said, of course. The next adjustment caused my entire left arm to go dead. I was petrified! The doctor then told me to flip over. While I lay on my back, he contorted my head in ways I didn’t know it could move. Finally there was release, and relief.

He kept telling me these are the same adjustments he gives his three year old. What he should have said was, don’t be a baby! I stood up and felt less pain then I had in weeks. When I got home, I iced my back. I relaxed and read. Bedtime came at 8:15pm.

The adjustments have helped. There’s pain and numbness but my shoulders don’t feel like they’re chained shut. The doctor said it seems I carry most of my stress in my back. Hmmmm, I could have told him that! There are stories I want to write and lots of things I want to say. Unfortunately they are all blocked by pain. It makes me so damn frustrated I want to cry. A LOT!

For now I will work on feeling better and reading a good book. It’s called The Gargoyle, by Andrew Davidson. Rory told me about it. Said I would identify with it. So far he’s right. As always…

I’ll leave you with a groovy new tune from the awesome, awesome band, Muse. It’s called Madness. It’s about love of course. I guess if I can’t write, I can listen to a groovy band sing about love. Plus the video has a dystopian feel, which is my favorite. Sweet dreams my sweets.