…I’m still fighting…grabbing everything…to stay afloat!!!
I’m still fighting, grabbing every thing in sight to stay afloat!!! It hasn’t been an easy 2 weeks… I have major stomach/liver issues trying to blindside me. I refuse to crumble. More bland foods, less fat, no Coffee, no heavy, greasy meals. I CAN DO THIS.
Push Push Push Thru the pain…. Drive Drive Drive in the Positive vibes! IT IS AWFUL TO HAVE AN UPSET STOMACH EVERY DAY FOR THE PAST 2 WEEKS! I think I turned the corner today… I had made hot sausage and peppers at the onset of symptoms, then the neighbors bought me a pizza THE NEXT DAY!! It’s their way to pay for my lawn work on their yard. I am NEVER going to eat tomato sauce , hot sausage, pepperoni, cheese, peppers EVER AGAIN!! Bluk bluk!
So, if you think I have given up on my SHAKE UP, I HAVE NOT! I am just regrouping!!
These images are hard to look at. I remember how ugly I felt at this time. I had been away from my abusive husband for about 4 years, but the low self esteem, the disgust at how he had cheated on me and yet wanted me to risk my life for him to get a reduced sentence…all these feelings had sunk in so deep. Even though I had turned my life over to God, gotten clean and sober, and was doing all the right things, I had traded drug addiction for sugar addiction. Anything to ease the pain…I was on some serious psych meds too, they obviously weren’t the right ones…yet.
Life is a journey, we hit bumps, detours, switchbacks and sometimes we lose control and crash. Those are all opportunities to learn, to climb out of the wreckage, to learn to walk again, run again, then one day….to soar with the eagles!!!! (or the albatross!)
Hating who we are in the present totally contrary to self improvement. Why would we want to care for, nurture, work hard for, give our all for someone we don’t like?
We must love and cherish the person we are NOW, to be able to devote ourself to the Future person we will surely be! So ROCK ON Suezeecue!!
The decision to enter my painting in an art show at a real art gallery was easy to make. I believe I am being motivated by fear, having learned while Pops was in hospital that I will basically be destitute after he dies or if he must be placed in a home. I had always hoped that I could make a living with my art, knew I could, really, but I never wanted to let anyone see it. It isn’t that I am ashamed, it is just so personal. That is my heart on the canvas, my veins torn open, my blood on the page.
I never wanted to sell out. to allow complete strangers to dissect my innermost thoughts, to critique my self expression. My life has been so full of can’ts:
You aren’t a boy, Susan. You can’t play ball like that.
You can’t just draw from your imagination- you must be trained properly.
You can’t go to art school, it is not realistic.
You are too sensitive, you can’t take everything to heart.
YES I CAN!!!!
The latest critic in my life is an elderly aunt, who believes she has my best interest at heart by terrifying me about my future. She wan’ts me to look into selling my antiques, selling my china, selling my whole sense of home and safety in preparation for the big nothingness that she keeps reminding me that looms ahead when Dad dies.
I try very hard to be smilingly pleasant on the phone with her, but it is the most negative words she can say. She totally does not understand my bipolar disorder or depression. I absolutely CAN NOT focus on what MIGHT happen. I will dwell on it, I will obsess about it, and if I am not careful, I will drink and drug over it. Her constant warnings of doom will be a self fulfilling prophecy for me.
I was on my own for many years without any material possessions, and those were some of the most meaningful years of my life. Meaningful in that I learned how to survive happily with nothing, that I appreciated every single meal, blanket, pot, pan, article of clothing, tree, water faucet, sunrise- and every single human being who crossed my path.
I was much younger, sure, but I learned how to SURVIVE. And I succeeded.
Jesus had no place to lay his head- he lived by faith. He lived free, and appreciated all His Father’s blessings. He did not fear not knowing where he would sleep, what he would eat, and the Bible counsels us to follow in his footsteps.
I do not want to sell Mom’s china, and I won’t. If I have to eat dog food on it in the dark, then that is what I will do. I will use my considerable brain function to keep my head above the proverbial water, but not by selling the things I hold dear, or by giving into fear of what may or may not happen.
If something good can come out of my anger at her doubt in me, it is that I am taking a leap of faith and taking my painting to the Gallery.
And I might just take a binder on my writings to an editor while I am at it!
So thank you Auntie Doubtful for the motivation. I remember that I am still the brave girl who jumped on a freight train and rode across Arizona, hitchhiked through 6 states, dumpster dove for greasy Mcdonald’s burgers, and that they tasted like T-bones!
I am the brave girl who worked 27 jobs in 25 years, rigged for the crane building Missle Silos, worked with Belgians and Shires and Clydesdales and Andalusians, and groomed the Atlanta Police department’s horses, learned to decorate cakes and operate forklifts, did lawn maintenance and worked on the tip of an island in the Atlantic. I have befriended train tramps and illegal immigrants, and helped a 15 year old Mexican kid hide in a grain car to get to his uncle’s house, his only relative in this world! I have accepted gifts of food, and given some, accepted rides and given many, and I have loved and believed in the very best of my fellow man, and I also believe in myself.
I am the brave girl who survived rape ad beatings, being stabbed and shot at, falling in holes and having horses roll on me, having a riding lawnmower flip over on me, divorcing a dangerous man, jail, drug addiction, alcoholism, hepatitis C, and the death of my beloved Mom, and losing my sanity, and I am still standing, even if it is crooked.