Dear Insides

The last few weeks have pretty much rotted.

Rotted? Been rotten? I think it's been rotten.

The last few weeks have pretty much been rotten.

That's better.

Anyways... there has been a lot of crying accompanied with a lot of swearing, both by me. I had a very lovely day in early January and then things deteriorated.

I know a lot of people are depressed in the wretched, evil, dreadful winter times. I detest the Satanic snow and that makes me very sad, but I don't think it's the winter and lack of sun. I couldn't really put my finger on what the problem was. Which just made me feel worse.

In the last day or so, though, the fog has lifted a bit and there hasn't been as much despair. Just as inexplicably as it came, it is leaving. There have been some things to contribute to it, I am certain:

I finally broke my weight loss plateau.  My new three P's of weight loss: perseverance, perspiration, poverty.

I have a new life goal that I am finding to be absurdly fun.

February is next month and that is supposed to be the best time to apply for jobs teaching English in Italy and since that is my new life goal, I am excited to apply with tutta la mia mente e la mia anima for the chance to be somewhere else, doing something else.

Those things have helped to make me feel a little less burdened.

I also realized recently that this is the time of year when my parents separated. I wonder if my insides remember and hold on to that, and if it is part of the reason the sadness descended and then lifted. My insides keep track of the things I don't even recall consciously: the odd silence. The feeling of knowing something but not knowing anything. Of being told. Of feeling relieved and uncertain all at once.

I don't remember a lot from life, frankly. But I am grateful that my body does. I mean, I wasn't grateful for the crying, but I am working on not fighting it as much. I am working on feeling the fear, pain, panic, or memory, and welcoming it in.

I used to be all: "Hmm. This is a feeling. A terrible, dreadful feeling. It is going to kill me. I will not survive it.You cannot stay feeling. You are uncomfortable and I don't know what to do with you. There must be something else I can do so you will go away."

Now, I say: "Hello, awful feeling. Here is a seat right next to my heart. You can stay and we will work it out so I don't have to keep being surprised by you. I get it now. You are part of me. You both do and do not belong here. We will work it out."

Some days are better than other days, but I guess that is all part of it. We are all trying and we are all deranged and at times, there will be a little something that will help you get through. For me, there are always olives. I love me some olives, even in the accursed snow.

Well, as long as I am inside eating them while it rains down hell in the form of white flakes outside.