Happy, Joyous and Free

They warned me this would happen.  Those irritating old-timers I’ve been hanging with after meetings.  They’ve robbed me of my misery.  It’s been sneaking up on me like a spider in the dark.  I didn’t even feel the bite or the venom.

Life’s no picnic.  I still have all the challenges of single-mothering.  I’m still struggling with the rifts I made in my family in following my soul and tagging along behind a long-haired homeless guy from the wrong side of the world.  I could sure do with a bit more emotional support and affection, this new life is lonely and hard.  Apparently I’ve even managed to offend followers here and friends on Facebook.  I must be doing something right.

I have plenty of work cut out for myself.  Progress and baby-steps.  I have some tough times coming up to get through and some hard choices to make soon.

No one outside meetings has asked me “how are you?” for longer than I can remember.  So I ask myself, “how are you?”  And I really mean it when I ask anyone this question.  Go on and tell me about your annoying medical problems or difficult boss or broken car.  I care.  And today I answered this question with “happy, joyous, and free!”

I didn’t believe myself at first.  It took all morning to be really sure I was telling the truth.  It’s like when I had my first really rotten great days.  Only way cooler.

And I’ve rediscovered something.  Miserable people hate being exposed to happy, joyous or free.  Misery loves company.  Calmly and assertively stating what I think or how I feel or asking for what I want pisses people off.  I spent all these years getting tricked into thinking I was wrong, guilty, and undeserving.  Not any more.  I remember a girl, long ago, who knew that game.  She’s finally woke from her nightmare and is ready to dance again.  No, my thinking is well informed, compassionate and sponge-like in my endless thirst for new learning.  My sense of right and wrong is well balanced, my heart is valuable and shouldn’t be kicked around.  I am not responsible for anyone’s hurtful actions and am totally right to speak up.  And despite what manipulative or aggressive people try to say kindly asking is the ONLY mature way to go about getting what you want.  My head is happy.  My heart is joyous.  My tongue is free.

I am blessed.  And grateful.  I am an unemployed single mother in a town going bust with lay-offs.  I’ve been rejected and neglected by everyone I thought I could count on just six months ago.  I am blessed.  And grateful.

About m

My ego wants to think I'm a writer but my heart knows I'm just another one of God's Kids who sometimes has words to say. 2 human kids and 3 feline kids call me Mom. Or Mooooooom. Or mewom, depending which you ask. I'm kinda-sorta busy being a student again; this time I signed myself up for a bizarre torture known as Graduate School. Theoretically in 4ish years I'll have earned some more nice letters to put with my name. Let's face it, I'm addicted to learning and probably need rehab to restore me to sanity and remove the obsession to read books. I don't remember what free time is but I think I like to spend it sleeping or playing in the mud on a river bank.
This entry was posted in personal essay, recovery and tagged , , , , , , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

9 Responses to Happy, Joyous and Free

  1. winfred says:

    To be grateful in hard times is a sign of strength.
    Do check out my say on guys who leave then come back

    Like

    • m says:

      Strength isn’t some inborn trait. I have always trusted God would either not give me more than I could handle or would be right there helping if I couldn’t handle it. This has yet to fail me.

      As for guys who leave and come back, quit worrying about boys so much. Get a vibrator and a cat. There’s worse problems to have than a boy who wants to get back together, and it is entirely up to you if you want to be with him or not. Lasting relationships have less to do with either being in love or finding stability or perfection and more to do with being friends first.

      Like

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s