So, my friend, CC, writes books.
His latest book, Amazing Things Will Happen, is pretty awesome. If you know CC in real life or through any of his blogs, it’s not necessarily new material, but it’s a nice reminder of how to live your life so… ahem… amazing things will happen.
One of his things is to find three words and then focus on them through the year.
My three words, and explanations, follow:
The bipolar was an absolute bitch to me this past year. It almost forced me to quit my job and go on SSDI. It almost hospitalized me. I vow to take much better care of my mental health this year. No more over committing at work. It fucked up my work life balance and was key in the downward spiral.
Then there’s the physical side of the equation. I want to do the GORUCK Challenge. I still can’t explain the why, except to say that it became something that resonates with me and it’s something I need to do. Well, it’s pretty obvious to me that I’m not going to survive it without some help, so enter the personal trainer. All my physical health goals - lose weight, more strength - are specific to the GRC, but I also know that they will benefit me in the long run.
I went with family as opposed to relationships because I have a lot of friends who I consider family. I don’t spend nearly enough time with them and recent events have shown me that it’s not enough to say that person’s like a sister/brother to me. I need to prove it. I need to figure out how to put myself in their lives and let them into mine. I don’t want to lose any more people because I sit on the sidelines and let them live their lives around me.
Yesterday, I did lunch with a person I absolutely adore, a brother, who I had lost touch with. The usual excuses were there (work, kid, baby momma) and we both acknowledged how easy it was to pull away and get sucked into your personal drama. We both admitted that we needed each other. We both promised to keep in touch more often. Will we? Yesterday’s lunch was a great start and I’m looking forward to many more.
Another one with a second word… I was going to go with projects instead, but create sounds better because most of my projects are creative. The American Girl fencing uniform, finally getting a new website off the ground, taking more photos, etc. It’s all the stuff I want to do every year, and most years I do succeed. I just wanted to add it to my list to be more accountable.
I think my favorite, non creative, “create” project is to try to create a more concrete, yet very abstract, link to my mother. Like the GRC, I’m not quite sure why, but I’m suddenly interested in the idea of using her birth certificate to get dual citizenship. I don’t know what all is involved in it, but I want to look into it.
2013 looks to be a good year - there’s a lot of good things on the horizon and there’s a lot of good things on the to-do list.
2012 can SUCK IT. It’s definitely time to move on, and the timing couldn’t be better.
You know - even though that’s a Doctor Who reference (yeah, I joined the Whovians) - it’s actually kind of fitting. Life is crazy. It’s important to keep your head about you, to stay calm, if you will. Then there’s the saying, “blink and you’ll miss it.”
Well, I didn’t stay calm and I definitely blinked.
How did time fly so fast? The people I met in elementary school have elementary schoolers of their own.
I’ve grown apart from someone who meant a lot to me. A lot. The rift started in college, when we went our separate ways. Then it got worse. Marriage. Kids. Jobs. Lives.
We don’t know how to talk to each other. We don’t know how to fit the other into our new lives. We don’t know how to be friends any more.
We’ve grown apart. Far apart.
It’s natural. I know. But it fucking sucks.
In return for letting them go, I’ve been rewarded with new friends who buy me t-shirts that say “Accepting you’re an asshole is the first step” and send me Facebook messages saying, “And meeting you is one of my highlights for 2012”.
I get messages from old friends who have surprisingly come back to me: “Tamara I have alot of friends but none of them with heart like yours.”
I’m one lucky girl.
Don’t think I don’t know that.
Bye, again, old friend.
Welcome back, brother.
Merry pornmas, silent P.
I once rewrote that song, back in the heat of Teh Bloggar Warz, and never posted it.
I should really find it…
Met with yet another trainer yesterday. I think this one is going to stick.
He actually listened to me. Weird, huh?
Said he didn’t know squat about bipolar/depression after workouts and wouldn’t make any blanket statements. Instead, we’d keep an eye on the workouts and see if we can’t peg down what might be causing it.
We talked about what I could find out about the GORUCK Challenge and my lack of upper body strength. Upper body is definitely going to be an issue - there’s a lot of push ups, buddy carries. a freaking 1,000 pound log, holding team members’ rucks, and let’s not forget running around and doing all that crap while wearing a ruck that weighs near 50 pounds (6 bricks, a hydration bladder, food, possible jacket, extra socks…).
When I told him that my immediate need was getting below 150 pounds so that I only needed to carry four bricks instead of six, he laughed. Told me that was an excellent goal to start with.
Yeah. I like him.
He wants me to mail down a date, but I don’t think I can make any of the ones that are posted… I’ll have to go back through and check them against the Muchachos schedule again.
It’s becoming real. Really real.
Oh. Shit. I’m. Actually. Going. To. Do. This.
I was working on my three words last night - really defining them and making sure they were the right ones - when I got hit by a blinding truth.
I don’t know to be friends with ANYONE.
I don’t know if it’s the bipolar making me keep people at arm’s length.
I don’t know if it’s some fucked up remnant of my childhood and/or the isolation of being an introverted, shy, only child.
I don’t know if it’s the way I was wired from day one - maybe all that other stuff is a “symptom” of the larger problem.
I can’t let the members of my blood family back in, even though they want it so badly… And I’m the one that sought them out.
I can’t let J’s family in, even though it’s probably important to him (he’s never said, but it’s a safe assumption).
I communicate with the majority of my friends through Facebook because it’s easier. It’s friendship on MY terms.
I read blogs to keep tabs on them instead of reaching out regularly.
I break promises to keep in touch more often.
I don’t know how to fix this.
To fix ME…
But it was important enough to make the list after everything was filtered out…
It’s time to sit down and figure out this part of my personality.
It’s PAST time to figure out this part of my personality.
I haven’t thought of that in years… I can’t remember if I made it up or if N did, but it was ‘written’ during high school. N… the lesbian friend I lost over a stupid misunderstanding about her sexuality. N… the friend back in my life due to Facebook and the shared pain of trying to accept the stupidity of a mutual friend.
It seems fitting that it would pop into my head today.
During this past year, I mourned the loss of someone that I just don’t know how to be friends with. It goes all the way back to college and it sucks. So, bye, old friend… I also mourned the loss of someone that used to be my family before they turned their back on me. The fact that a person is a blood relative doesn’t mean you won’t be subject to their hurtful jackassery. So, bye, Djadko J… Clarity. Closure. Cookies.
On the flip side, my openness about the bipolar (and the blog entries that have been printed out and given to long-term life partners) has brought old friends back into my life. The fact that they all hide it - and I’m ridiculously in your face - has made it easier for them seek out members of the ‘tribe’. I’ve said it before, and I’ll say it again, we’re not alone in fighting this. I’m sad that it takes ‘coming out’ to bring us together, but I’m glad we reconnected on a deeper level.
Let’s not forget about the other old friends I’ve reconnected with. I’m working on being more social with them. (It’s part of my three words (more on that later)). Plus, Newtown kind of reminded me (again) that life is just too fucking short to have “take off the shelf once a year” friends. There are people who mean a lot to me and I’m tried of not seeing them face to face.
Then there’s the new friends… the ones I can share a “Merry Pornmas” with. The ones who indulge in inappropriate touching. (Wait. That’s all the same person. Oh well.) The ones that I haven’t scared off with the openess about the bipolar…
Santa’s been good to me this year. There are more people in my life than I lost and that’s pretty good!
Hopefully Santa’s been as good to you, Peanut Gallery.