It’s done, finally. Perhaps I can rest now, for a minute. Or probably (hopefully) not.
At some point in my very recent past, it occurred to me that I have been throwing a tantrum, having a fit.
At various times along the way, I’ve chosen to describe it (my life situation) as unfair. Bad karma. (“What the f**k did I do to deserve this?”)
For the past year, or year and a half, or two, I’ve used it as an excuse. A handy excuse. For a long time now, I’ve simply said, “Damn it, I’m entitled.” (List here any number of things I might feel entitled to, like: sleep, sloth, food, alcohol, frustration, aloneness, self-pity, [and sometimes more recently, anger].)
I’ve tried and not succeeded. (And, sometimes -- though rarely -- succeeded without trying [by the Grace of God, no doubt.])
I’ve fought (I am a fighter, a survivor, at heart) and given up, exhausted. Then gotten up and fought some more.
I’ve treated myself badly. (And sometimes others, who simply wanted to help.)
I’ve suffered and I’ve paid. I’ve tried not to bitch about it, and I (regularly) make a super-human effort not to complain or whine (at least not to others).
I’ve let that attitude distract me and consume me and make me complacent and just plain piss me off.
If you want all the gory details, feel free to read back. I began my website (with a purpose) and then my blog (with another purpose) at what I felt was perhaps a major turning point in my life (one of many, no doubt). I had huge hopes, as usual, but life threw me a(nother) curve ball.
On the flip side (sometimes it seems to always come up tails instead of heads), I NOW choose to begin yet again, to look FORWARD. To reclaim the sense of anticipation and wonderment and hopefulness…and strength and empowerment and fortitude...that I felt, way back when. (Way back…when?)
I want to look at life with the wonder of a child, but with the spirit of a warrior.
I am a warrior, and a child. My tantrum is over. I can rest.
Or not, because now I begin the fight anew.