Monday, February 14, 2011


I feel like Cindy Lauper…you know…Manic Monday-ish?

I feel unrest inside. I feel questions with no answers. Like the big one – is this really what my life is supposed to be about? Work M-F full time? Work M-S part time? Live, breathe, eat, and sleep - in the same pattern each week? Never really making my mark on the world? Never really helping anyone? Never really using the gifts I’ve been given to do what I’m passionate about?


I have no answers.

Also, last week at one point I was down 4 pounds. Then the weekend came and I ate a piece of cake and had an extra Mountain Dew. Yah – no biggie – especially when I burn a lot off in workouts. But I skipped two workouts.

Still – as my official Monday weigh in – I’m only down ½ pound from last Monday. Nice. No way in hell did I eat that many calories but the weight comes back. I want to scream and give up and throw a tantrum…but I’ll just keep going…even if it’s ½ pound at a time.

There is workplace angst at the prison. Union unrest. Talk of strikes and rallies and such. I don’t want to think about any of it. I don’t want to be educated enough to debate it with the best of them. I want to sit in ignorance and plead dumb. So I don’t have to feel the worry that follows each debate.

29 weeks until I said I’d run a half marathon. Today I wonder if that’s a pipe dream. Something I’ll never accomplish. Another thing I said I’d do – but maybe I won’t.

Tomorrow I’ll know different. Today I have my doubts.

I moved Watermelon’s room around this weekend. In the process she decided she didn’t want my HUGE teddy bear any more. To her, it’s just a bear. To me, it is the representation of things my Dad can’t say. Years ago when I was a little girl, one Christmas, my dad got us each a present just from him. Not from Mom and not from Santa.

From him only.  It is the only Christmas of my life he has done that.

Mine was a huge bear. As big as me at the time. Its paw says “I love you”. I have carried that bear from my childhood home, to my first home to the home we are in now. Watermelon doesn’t want it anymore and part of me said, “Throw it out. It’s a huge stuffed bear. Where the heck do you have space for that? It’s soo old. It’s time.”

And then Banana, the 5 year old saw it laying there and she scooped it up. She cannot even put her hands around the entire thing because it’s so big. She carries it and you can’t see her head. Only her feet sticking out. She slept with it last night.

She slept with my memory. She slept with my symbol of love.

And this morning she carried it to the car…and to the sitter’s house….up the steps and into the living room.

You’d think I’d be happy. The bear has been “adopted” by my other little girl. It won’t be thrown out. It won’t be tossed aside any time soon.

But for some reason it hurts me. While yes, I keep the bear in my house and have for all these years…it is rarely something I see and rarely something I think about. When Watermelon had it she kept it out of sight.

Now it is with me 24/7. Every time I turn around there it is. And there lies the meaning behind it. There lies the memory of one Christmas that actually meant something.

One moment that signifies to me that in all these years – that relationship hasn’t changed. It is the same as it was back then. No words. No hugs. No time spent.

I still just have bits and pieces of a father…and I thought by now I would have and could have changed that into something bigger. Something more…than a huge teddy bear.

And I don’t want to be reminded of that.

So there you have it – lots on my mind. Nothing really wrong…but nothing feels right. It’s the Manic Monday syndrome I tell you.

I won’t be farting any gumdrops today that’s for sure.

A Skittle bath may be in order though!


Read said...

Awww Drazil, I'm sorry. I totally get why the bear isn't only a lovely memory, but I'm still really glad Banana adopted it. Hopefully she'll get bored with carrying it around 24/7 and it can find a nice, quiet, secluded place of honor in her room one day soon.

I spent time with a dear friend of mine this weekend who I've recently reconnected with. Jamie is very sensitive, her emotions are right there on the surface and she's very easily bruised. Whereas my emotions are locked up so tightly you practically have to beat me senseless before I'll let something 'get' to me. (at least in any kind of outward way). We were talking about how lovely it would be if we could blend our two emotional 'profiles' so that she was a little more thick skinned and I was a little less closed off. I say all that as background - so you don't think I think I think this is easy - I know I have all these nearly impenetrable boxes where I keep the hard stuff - but....

I wrote my dad off as any kind of possible source of love or connection a very long time ago. It was hard and painful at the time - but when all was said and done, now I think he's a nice man who means well and when I see him (like in the beginning of February to celebrate Christmas) I'm pretty much able to just enjoy the "now" that we have at that moment. I no longer long for what could or should be. It's just not an option for him - I had to find a way for that to be okay for me. Way back when - I grieved for what we didn't have and now... I have this nice man in my life who I see a few times a year (though he lives less than 1/2 hour from me) and I'm pretty much okay with that.

I wish for you to one day find the place, the way, the strength for this not to hurt you so badly every single time. My heart breaks for you over this. I'm sending you love and power today.

Karen Butler Ogle said...

I'm sorry, Draz. It is hard to have something in your face all the time that is a reminder of something painful. However, I am a firm believe in letting the bad things go and focusing on the good. My dad was much the same. He didn't know how to relate to a daughter. He was an only child. He was raised without a dad. He didn't know how to be a dad to a little girl. he changed though, the last year of his life. He became open and conversant. It was like a depression had lifted off him and he was at peace. Seeing him the way he always should have been made it so hard to let him go.

Amanda said...

I have been following your blog for a while but have never really posted until recently. But I do know your back story! I first wanted to comment on this : "Never really making my mark on the world? Never really helping anyone? Never really using the gifts I’ve been given to do what I’m passionate about?" I wanted to tell you that I've been in blog lad less then a year and you help plenty of people around here. You have def. made your mark in many of these ladies lives. That is important! Know it.

Shannon said...

Today sounds like a day for a relaxing cup of your favorite hot beverage and a good book to take your mind off things. hugs!

Amy W. said...

Let me just tell you a couple of things. If you had to run the 1/2 marathon tomorrow, you could do it. You really could. Now, you may not be able to finish the entire thing running, but you would walk across that finish line. You know how our bodies are stronger than we think they are. Don't doubt it. Dont doubt you.

Man, I HATE when I get in that funk that I question the meaning of life and what in the hell we are doing. Its a bad place to be. Luckily, I only stay a few days and then wake up chipper again.

The bear, anything tangible, is not the memory. The memory is in our heads. So when you look at it say that is not my dad. To her, it's not what it was to you. Its a new thing. A happy thing.

If I were there, I would give you a hug and let you touch my biceps. And then I would touch your cellulite free thighs and we would be happy forever and ever.


JourneyBeyondSurvival said...

Just wanted to let you know that bipolar could have caused that detachment in your father. I know that I have a maximum capacity and I protect my kids from my over-reaching and subsequent hitting of the fan. I know that means next to nothing this far out. But, I just wanted you to know that I understand both perspectives.

I know it doesn't help.

Dangit, I'm shutting up now.

LDswims said...

"Never really making my mark on the world?" Really? I'm in Houston and I've never even met you and I consider myself fortunate for having come across your blog and created a friendship out of thin air. So, really? You've made a mark that spans the globe, Chica!

As for the bear, I love that your daughter wants it and your oldest daughter thinks she's out-grown it. I love that you think you might be able to move it on. I love that you have a memory that is priceless and irreplaceable - multiple memories, actually, and you think this shows hurt and pain. For what it's worth, I think you should embrace the bear. Your dad tries as best he can. It's not what you want, I get that, but he tries - and that's what he CAN do. Sometimes we have to put aside our own notions and accept what is reality. And your reality is your dad loves you, you're his little girl - and you always will be - and very few people can pick you up like your dad can. Trust me, I know, I've read the blogs. Maybe he's not consistent enough, but he tries. You have to love that.

Aside from all that, I hate the down times, too. I hope this passes quickly and leaves you with a refreshening when the why's and the what's stop pestering you. You matter, Chica. You matter a ton!

Cindy said...

I understand the not leaving a mark - I've been doing insurance for 15 years. But I haven't "given" anything to the world that is tangible in my mind... SO, I started making these ornaments. I just need to get something out there that I made. I didn't think I was passionate about anything, until I started really trying regarding the crafts I would piddle around with.

amandakiska said...

I wonder too if this is what I was meant to do. It is hard when our kids are small to imagine doing anything else. Someday it will be "our" time again, but right now is their childhood, their growing up years and we are in the background, paying the bills and creating security.

But I agree with the others that you've touched many lives through this blog. You were born to be a writer, my dear! You have many gifts and we are lucky to be the recipients.

I went by my mom's house to drop off her valentine yesterday and she had a cold so I didn't stay. I left feeling unappreciated and ignored, which is silly. She had a cold. She couldn't pay attention to me for one day. Even though we are adults, when it comes to parents, we still slip into those familiar roles.

Sandy Lee said...

Oh Sweetie-pie. Tomorrow is a new day. Trying to send you some warm thoughts from Mexico. Take a picture of that bear. And keep it in a safe place. It is a special thing. Really.

You gotta plan a warm vacation in the winter-maybe drive to Florida or Texas. It will rejuvenate you and the family. The sun is glorius.

Carmen said...

4 things....
1. love you
2. love the new layout, i havent seen it because most of my reading has been done on reader lately
3. bad child of the 80's! manic monday is the bangles ;-)
4. i'm sendng you a giant cheer bear hug

Stephanie said...

You know I am sending you a big virtual hug and that I love you oodles. I have to admit, the first thing I said to myself though, was "Honey, that was by the bangles" I'm really not that insensitive of a bitch. I'm sorry you're feeling lost, but we're all here for you!

Bonnie said...

You can and will do that half-marathon.

Lanie Painie said...

Maybe knowing that The Bangles actually sing Manic Monday, and not Cyndi Lauper will help you feel more restful, but I doubt it. Still, there it is.

I agree with what Amanda said earlier. You're making the world a better place every day by sharing yourself with the blogosphere and by raising your wonderfully fruity children.

Sometimes things happen for a reason. Maybe now is time to reach out to dad and tell him how much that bear has meant to you all these years. My dad died when I was six years old. I've got very little memory of him at all. I think the bear is trying to tell you something.

Ronnie said...

You inspire all of us on a daily basis. And you will run the crap out of that half-marathon. It has Drazil written all over it.