Just.....AUGHHH

I'm not really sure this blog has a direction; I just felt like writing, so prepare for ADD or ADHD or whatever the hip thing it is to call when you can't organize your thoughts these days. I feel like that book "Woman, Thou Art Loosed," except I don't know what it's about, and I'm not black. I'm just kind of existing on emotions and nerve endings at this point.

Chantix is making me feel beyond weird. I had a near-48-hour period of basically not wanting to move. It did totally mess with my head and make me feel like complete crap, but as this is supposed to be "normal," I am forging ahead. I feel so much of the last year has been me "forging ahead." I hate to think that I'm missing out on anything by just trying to get the hell until the end of the day, so I can say, 'I made it...one more day."

I'm not a super emotional person. Yes, I cry at movies and other appropriate times, but I don't go around unloading my personal business on anyone who will listen (unless you read this blog, of course), but I feel like my emotions are at maximum capacity. There have been so many profound changes in my life in the last year, that once I step back and consider them, I'm not sure that I'm processing them correctly. I know, who's to say what "correctly" or "incorrectly" is, but other people in similar situations seem to be doing just fine.

Like my estranged...he seems to be doing A-okay. Let's separate for no apparent reason...BAM...let's say we're working it out, but secretly we're not..BAM....let's get divorced because you don't accept this namby-pamby approach to marriage...BAM I don't believe in arranged marriages; it's not my culture, obviously, but I do believe in giving good, mother-jumping reasons for divorcing. We could say that society has progressed and brought us further in life-fulfilling efforts to the point that divorce is less taboo than it was in say, the 50s, OR we could say that we're all so selfish and full of dishonor and able to reconcile those negative traits while professing to be good and wonderful Christians, that here we are. I will say, that I was not a perfect wife. I have never claimed to be a perfect anything, EVER. I went through deep lulls of depression over many things, namely the death of my father, the most important person in my life, but if you join yourself in spirituality and beyond to another person, you don't abandon them because they didn't turn out the way you wanted. If marriages ended that way, no one would be married. It's called being adult. Come visit me; it's nice.

I did not think I would be here, except that if I had been born in the 50s, I most definitely would've been one of those women that thought there must be something better than making a pot roast in heels, pearls, and a pinafore. So, maybe it doesn't matter when or where I am, but I do know that I'm just pissed. I always return to "Flowers for Algernon" a book by Daniel Keyes. The basic premise of the story is that Charley, the protagonist, has a sub-Forrest Gump level IQ. These scientists, based on tests on Algernon, a mouse, give him therapy to make him really smart. He becomes really smart, realizes what his life could be, falls in love, and then...parallel with Algernon's progress, reverts to dumb ol' Charley the blue-collar worker. The beauty of it, though, is that he never remembers that he was ever smart or aspired to anything above his current station in life.

It's extremely sad, and yes, like a big emotional girl, I cried when I read the book. However, my point is...wow...I so wish sometimes that I could just be a big, happy conformist. I could just take a pill, be modern-day Donna Reed/Ally McBeal, and everyone would be happy. I don't take pictures to chronicle my every step in life, I don't know the difference between a valance and a curtain. I like to drink wine, but I do also dearly love my nieces, nephew, and great-nephew, and they love me. I don't know how to make a roux or a chutney or can things, but I can outspell and out-sass the best of them. I simply don't know how I got to this place in my life, but I will make damn sure that I will never really be able to say that again. My choices will be just that, MY choices, and I am done with the guilt and second-guessing and feeling "less than." I have not changed my personality since I was five years old, and I'm not going to start now. Take it, or it was nice knowing you.