Monday, December 6, 2010

Who Do You Talk To On A Bad Luck Day?

I was thinking about writing today, and I couldn't decide what to write about. In my mind was "Who do you tell when things are rough?" and "Look at my sweet baby heirlooms" and "Yay, my knees are so much better!", not to mention that this morning a friend got me started thinking about "Following Your Instincts", which has many ramifications for my life. I was a little distracted from my dilemma by the back and forth creeping of a huge truck, another delivery for the house that's being built two lots down from me. Suddenly BOOM. I ran to the door to see my mailbox laying on the ground and its pole (with the electrical light at the top) tilted 10 degrees to the left.

The young truck driver immediately came to my door, apologizing and calling his boss for me to talk with. We arranged repairs as I stood in the doorway in the 30 degree cold. The driver was sweet and apologetic. Still, I feel that awful "last straw" feeling.

It was not for nothing that I contemplated "Who do you tell when things are rough?" I've been worrying about money, my parents, my child, my health. It's been a time of very hard work and few victories. A few days ago I FINALLY had one of those wonderful days when I woke up and nothing was hurting, and I was hoping it might be a bit of a downhill stretch for a change. It was my first such day since before I broke my arm in July. A little hint of maybe some better health for a bit, a chance to build strength and improve my endurance.

One of my sisters caught up on my blog a couple of days ago. She remarked that she can never see my pain when she's with me, that I don't speak about it. Part of that is because I don't know who to tell. Or what it would help. My daughter tells me that she complains to me sometimes just because she needs to say it, and that she feels better after. I haven't had that person to "just say it" to for a long time.

I used to think that your romantic partner was the natural "just say it" person. I slowly learned that wasn't necessarily so. Sometimes that person doesn't understand their function as the supportive sounding board. They may feel less than useful, or bored, or galvanize into action to solve your problems for you. At worst, they may use your downloading of problems or fears against you. I once made a long-term partner a confidante (as he seemed to make me his) only to find that he was making a long catalog of my discussions to justify calling me mentally ill.

Anyway, just this moment, I am sitting on the couch with my cauliflower and brown rice, making this neat little entry to document that today is a rough day, and that I am working hard to make more good days but I could use some luck. Just a little luck. And I would do anything to have my one sure-thing person back to talk it over with. I miss you Lorri.

1 comment:

  1. Well, your faithful readers are here to listen. Glad to find two great posts again after a bit of patient waiting...(only discovered your wonderful blog a month or two ago). An old friend and 'sister' lupus patient has just reintroduced me to knitting. I had to be reminded how to cast on, purl, etc. This will be a nice change from paper-pieced quilting which I've done off and on for years. More portable too, and with a nice relaxing rhythm to it. Am especially excited to try felting. It sounds like the perfect (i.e. extremely forgiving) form of beginner knitting for me, since all the goofs apparently disappear beneath the fuzz. Have you tried it? Thanks for blogging. We're listening...