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Friday, October 15, 2010

Walking on Hot Coals

The hardest thing to say is "I'm sorry- I can't handle anymore". Right on up there with that horrible sick feeling you get when you see people in pain, and know, try as you might, that you have to say, "I can't do it for you. I can't bear it for you. I'm not that strong. But, I can hold your hand while you walk through hell. I'll be Virgil, you be Dante." (Appropriate, as I've been in a sort of purgatory at times.)
I've decided- I'm focusing on me to an extent... knocking 3 inches of dead ends off my hair made a world of difference in one department. I feel better, and I look better too. What a difference three inches makes!
I'm going to be my goofball self- the occasional dirty humor, the occasional shock-value test, (I want to see if people know me, or think I am as innocent as I look.) I'm going to dance in my underwear, singing "Somethin' Stupid" or "You make me feel like a natural woman" into a hairbrush. I'm going to hold onto friends and family, but I'm making sure I'm ok first. Yes, I'm here. A shoulder. Comedic relief. A brewski or a coffee here and there. But I will need to lean here and there, too. It's the cold months... already, the nerves are feeling it, and the bones, when damp. (Which it kind of tends to be.) Some days, I might need to ask for help, particularly if my hands start shaking too much or I'm having a bad day mobility wise. I have to learn how rather than making myself sick with my "Lil' Mizz Independence" attitude. Being stubborn saves, but sometimes it's a huge hindrance.
I'm improving myself, and my life, by inches. I'll come to terms with what I need to, make my mistakes and learn from them. I'm going to be just fine.

So, if you need me, I'll walk on the hot coals beside you if I can, or walk an arm's length away, to comfort. And I'll learn to lean when I have to. On you will go, though the weather be foul
On you will go, though your enemies prowl
On you will go, though the Hakken- Kraks howl
Onward up many a frightening creek
Though your arms may get sore
And your sneakers may leak
-Oh The Places You'll Go, Dr. Seuss

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