Today just can't seem to get off the ground. The buzzards are circling overhead, so I'll try to write some of it out. Supposedly if you put it on (metaphorical) paper, some of the demons are slain. I am worried, and there is low level anxiety that has been building up for weeks. My husband will have open heart surgery in three weeks. My son needs outpatient sinus surgery as soon as we can schedule it. One of my dogs, who had successful surgery on his right leg in April, needs to have surgery on the left leg before it totally breaks down or puts too much stress on the right leg. My house, the state of which I know I irrationally make too much of, is still too cluttered for me to be at all comfortable with the idea of people visiting. I have made progress in that - about six weeks ago I hired a cleaning service to come once a week until David's surgery, then bi-weekly after that. I marvel at them. They have cleaned 99% of the dust and dirt out of the house, helped rearrange and organize where they could, and if I would declutter about three or four more places, they will have 100% of it gone. And they do it in two hours a week. Obviously there is something lacking in my home training.
I am going to a reunion of people I grew up with and haven't seen, mostly since 1972, which is entirely my own fault. When I moved away from Birmingham, I didn't ever want to go back, and I lost touch with all the people I knew there. Some of them found me on Facebook, which is a good thing, so I'm going back tomorrow to see if there are any who remember me, or I them. That's going to need a pill. Even the anticipation of good things can cause anxiety, so it gets me whether I'm up or down. Then there is the voice that whispers, "you're making this up, just get up and do what you have to do!" That voice sounds suspiciously like my mother. There are all the cute little posters about "you are in charge of your own happiness" and "exercising self-control." Screw that. I did that for 48 years and then something broke. I know I have more blessings in life than I deserve. I know that as a family, we are better off than 99% of the rest of the world. I'm not complaining about any of that. I just don't want anybody trying to tell me what I'm doing wrong and trying to fix me. I have a psychiatrist and pills for that, thank you.
Well, the buzzards are still there, but they're perched in trees now, just watching. Maybe I'll actually post this, although it's more than I usually tell people. May all your buzzards disappear, whoever you are.
