Hmmm...

I'm concerned with my fatigue level. I'm sure it's a product of 4Q, renewals & marketing coming out the wazoo, having just moved & not quite settled yet. There's just a lot of still-moving parts & pieces. Now add in the listing of the Carmel house (& the minor battles that has wrought) with the rest of it & it's no wonder that I struggle to Fridays. Oh yeah, that no exercise thing is probably weighing in largely as well.

I keep saying, "it'll be normal soon." Ha. The definition of normal, like the feeling of "home", is a bit elusive at the moment.

There have been a few earth-quaking moments of realization that this may be a mistake. There are an equally few moments of clarity that I am better for this experience & that someday it'll be great stories. They're balancing each other, barely. But note: it hasn't really snowed yet, either.

I'm good at my job, I'm a good friend, I'm a good person, I'm a good athlete, I'm a good girlfriend (though that role is currently unoccupied!), I'm a good dog-mom, I'm a good sister, I'm a role-model, I'm a good housekeeper & I'm good at anything I put my mind to. These things I know. It's normal to have a wavering concept of "self" & a fragile self-image in today's society. But it's quite wearing to repeat the mantra to myself constantly.

Less than a week & the mettle of really establishing a routine of my own & making this work by myself will really come into play. When I come home at night & there's no one else there to excuse me sitting on the couch or not walking the dogs, will I finally put my head on straight?

Rev3 Cedar Point is on 9/11/11. I think I'm going after a goal. I think it's time to put the doubt, the inferiority, the insecurity, the laziness (some of it, anyway), the chubbiness (& shut up if you try to convince me otherwise) & the excuses in the rearview & reclaim whatever parts & pieces of myself I can gather up. It's time to be me again. And isn't it about damn time to stop whining, anyway?

"Home"

The relativity of the word home is currently perplexing me. All of my stuff is in one place (well ok, the VAST majority of my stuff...though oddly not a couple of my treasured kitchen items..but all the wine, so it counts.) & the dogs are here. Mom is here. Even my lawn mower & my Uggs are here. It's my bed, my dishes, my sofa, my television. Why is it so unerringly puzzing, then, that my "self" isn't feeling like I'm "home"?

Sure, it's where I'm laying my head & sleeping & I've finally started sleeping well. But it's not quite to the point where I walk in, drop my stuff, collapse to the floor & sigh yet while the dogs waller (scientific term) me. Maybe that just takes time....we'll see. I'm hoping so. We're settling in to the routine, if not the setting. I'm realizing each day the need for that damn fenced-in yard. But I kind of like walking with the dogs in the morning (though the evening walk is usually much more friendly & cooperative)...it's not terribly cold yet though.

Anyway....we're driving back to IN to start the clean-up on the other house tomorrow afternoon. I'm curious to see how I feel when I walk in there. If it's a comforting, wanna-sigh type feeling, I could be in trouble. Letting go of the past & starting over might prove to be more difficult than anticipated.

Guess we'll be patient & find out, right? (Not like there's an alternative....) Hoping I can dig out the bike(s), get the trainer set up and/or a Gemini membership lined up & get moving again soon. Started looking at races for next year & we all know how dangerous that is....

On the concept of 'getting even'....

They are RIGHT ON when they say "revenge" or "justice" isn't our job. Sometimes we don't get the luxury. Rest assured that whatever comes next will take care of itself. My God will get the rapist that had to drug me to take advantage of me & felt that I was easy/cheap/incapacitated enough to do so. I can't possibly inflict enough pain (even in my greatest dreams) for what the scum did. However, The Big Guy upstairs (& the Universe as a whole) has MUCH bigger powers than I do & I can take AGES of solace in that. I've laid it at their feet (proverbial, stone or otherwise) & have made my peace with it. I can pity his soul & laugh at how foolish he's been with the gift his life could've been.

Go forward & put your faith & energies along those lines....think about what people like that do to themselves. Have you ever seen a tornado that made things look pretty? Ever seen a fire not cause damage? Ever seen cancer make cells more alive? Yeah, same concept.....but from those tornados comes the opportunity to build to better codes & plant prettier flowers, out of the ashes comes a more nutrient-rich soil without the underbrush clutter so things grow quicker & out of cancer comes either everlasting life or a MUCH stronger survivor.


Take your pick & walk your path with unwavering conviction...it looks much better on you than pain & angst.

Still....

And still, I miss my life & myself. What & who I know I am, because this isn't it.

I still feel like I'm missing something. And as I'm currently in what I'd like to call a "rough patch" even though some would call it success I've got this heightened sense of "missingness" that I feel like something is passing me by.

I'm not sure if it's the career I was 'meant' to have, the family I don't yet have, the love I've had & lost (or given away), the family I do have but is far away or possibly the security of the friends (the rest of my 'family') & home that I'm leaving behind. I'm not sure, but I'm not exactly feeling very grounded in my own presence right now.

I know I miss working out & being healthy, I miss my pups when I'm not with them & I miss the boys (& the rest of my friends). I've got a lot of worry leveled on my shoulders right now & am juggling a lot. I know this. Likewise, I know I'll get through it & keep making the best of it. Once settled I can begin to work out. I get a few days with the girls if I survive another month. I get some quality time with my parents (during which no one will yell - or cry - for at least a little while) soon. The dogs will be with me full time starting in a few days, we'll get that other house on the market soon, I'm officially off the other account starting today & the kitchen table will fit. Once I start working out & get settled I'll make friends, but don't have to lose the ones I already have. It'll all be ok, I just have to keep chugging along.

And the love thing? Well, I'm just playing it by ear for now & trying not to hurt myself. I think that may be the easiest (or toughest, when it comes down to it) part of it all. For now it's certainly the easiest not to worry about & enjoy thinking about.

Proving what, exactly?

I'm sitting in New York, not the city, the state. I'm somewhere roughly in the middle of it. Frankly, I think I'm in the middle of nowhere. But it's nice here. I'm technically at a casino (also known as a client) sitting in a pretty plush hotel room. I have a meeting tomorrow in this neck of the woods & then will fly back to Cleveland. Yeah, "home"....when you start flying in/out of an airport in a place (that, coincidentally, you only "live" a few minutes from) it should somewhat be considered your home. Especially when most of your clothes are in that city. Even moreso should it be considered such when almost all of your shoes are there...for me, that's saying a lot.

I'm officially embarking upon this journey. Still unsure on the closing date for the house, or the listing date for the Carmel house, or really on the moving date (& methodology) for the furniture. Hell, I'm still unsure if it's the right thing to do. But I have to plow ahead & as always, I'm sure things will work out in the end.

It was said to me the other day by a friend, "I'm really surprised you're going through with this & making this move." I'm still not entirely sure that's not an insult, but it does somewhat annoy me.

I debated over the weekend (with a different person) what I'm constantly trying to prove to myself/the world/whoever with my athletic antics & stubborn streak. What could there constantly be left to prove to anyone & will anything ever satisfy that need? When will it ever (when will I ever???) really be good enough? Will I ever pass my own tests & where did these tests & standards I've set for myself come from? And are they holding me back in other areas of my life? (i.e. if I were so stubborn & all-fired determined to do things myself - or by myself - would I have someone by my side to fight these battles & prove things to the world? Would I be easier to live with if I could live with myself?)

I think the two are related. I'm constantly trying to prove something (but don't know what) & even though I'm scared to death of doing this by myself that's exactly what I'm left doing (& now feel the need - nay the necessity - to do just that). It is a self-realizing prophecy? Am I driving myself to be alone because I'm so hell-bent on proving that I can? Or have I just been unlucky thus far in finding someone who can keep up with me and/or who wants to keep up? Will I ever be good enough for myself, let alone anyone else? And if I can't ever satisfy my own standards, will anyone else ever be able to stand up to them?

There's a helluva quandry.