The last couple of months have been really good for me. Hubby and I have been taking lots of little exploration road trips around the northwest. Orko is LOVING my new job which allows him to come to work with me everyday, where he gets to be fawned upon and adored by his growing fan base. And I might actually make it through 2018 without starting any kitchen and/or bathroom fires.
Yes, one could say that I have a pretty good thing going… and then depression slithers in with it’s whiny little voice and destroys it all with a sentence.
“You mom’s dead and you’ll never get to talk to her, or feel one of her amazing squeeze hugs, ever again.”
… wow… you punk ass little bitch…
Technically I know I’m doing this to myself, there’s not some evil entity floating around me, ruining my happiness by saying these incredibly hurtful things. I’ve read the books, I’ve done the therapy. I know this is the part of me that feels bad about getting over my mother’s death and accepting my new life without her.
Still, I fucking hate that voice and if it could take a physical form for like just a minute, that would be the best minute of my life.
I would beat the living shit out of that thing.
There’d by no Queensberry rules for this asshole. I’d be poking eyes, going for the groin, Mike Tysoning some ears! I mean we’re talking Rated M for mature audience shit.
But instead I’m writing, to help me get through the pain, and the disappointment in myself for making it harder on myself, even though I know it’s not my fault.
Although, maybe it wouldn’t hurt to ask for some kickboxing classes for Christmas… just in case.
Always make me laugh, no matter what.
But That's For Another Blog 
Damn! So sorry for your loss Mona!
Been out of touch for a very long while, but you might say ‘just got back in town’ and thought I’d stop by.
You still crack me the hell up! Only those of us who know how horrible freaking depression is can make light of the absurdity of it. One rule I learned a long time ago is to never be sitting down when the enemy approaches. It’s the best way to get your ass kicked! Make sure you’re on your feet and prepared. Sounds like you’re doing just that.
And I’m very sorry to hear about you losing your mother. Mine has been gone since I was 25 years old…that makes 31 years…if I have to be honest about my age. I still remember what her hands looked like, how her voice sounded, and how she smelled. Those are the memories we keep. They leave a lot of themselves behind with us. You cherish that!
Just reading through old emails and realized I hadn’t come to your blog since leaving the PNW. Just wanted to let you know that I miss you, hubby and Orko very much and although I haven’t been in touch and I can’t do anything to take away the pain of loosing your incredible mom … I’m still out here in the wind thinking about you so very often. I hope I’ll get back to the west coast someday and we’ll pick up where we left off. Love you xo S