Friday, February 25, 2011

Something about a Friday

There is something strangely new and exciting about Friday's even when you have nothing planned for the weekend. A strong satisfaction of acomplishing another week. I made it! Seems a small accomplishment sure, but in reality it can be a major milestone sometimes. This week has been one of those monsters that drags it's stubborn feet and fights constantly. A week that fights so hard in fact, that when Friday breaks daylight one can't help but utter a silent prayer and feel hopeful.

There is a song lyric replaying itself in my mind today from one of my favorite artists, Jason Mraz. "What becomes of a day for those who rage against it?" and the answer I keep coming back to, is it too shall pass. That is a line that has never brought me any comfort at all, that my mother has actually crammed down my throat repeatidly since the day I was born. Over the course of my life, any time I have been faced with any trial or tribulation, her go to line has always been, "Jeanna, this too shall pass," and as much as that line has made me want to pop her in the forehead, I have also always found it to be true.

A new day will dawn whether I am happy or sad, above ground or dust in the wind, time will go on and this too shall pass. I am reminded of this fact again at my realization that it is Friday. The struggle of this week has been great on my heart. I've hurt a lot this week. I've looked for ways to sort out my frustration and anger, looked for shelves to stack piles of blame on, cried buckets of tears but honestly I am tired of it.

Again today, I pick running shoes. Thank you Friday, for all that you do.

Thursday, February 24, 2011

Long Night

There's a storm cloud brewing across the fields of my mind. I can feel it coming in my bones, they ache in anticipation. It's taking its toll on my soul.  I want to be braver than I feel right now.  As I watch you go, I don't remember how we got to this place.

My fists are clenched in rage at the rain pouring down my face. I'm fighting against a force of nature already knowing that I cannot win. A fool for trying, I turn my face up to the pelting droplets and let the pain soak me to the core.

End of the beginning or the beginning of the end?

  Sitting at work yesterday I realized that my head was actually about to explode. How is it that going through a separation that isn't even hostile can make you hurt so badly. My marriage of 4 years is being pulled apart and separated into piles of yours and mine and I seem to be the only one upset. Yes, it's been nice not fighting with you, and I'm glad you still want to come to the kids softball games and dance recitals, but my heart hurts inside even though I think this is the right choice.

   Why am I hurting when I know it's the right decision? I stare at my computer monitor but my ability to actually do my work is eluding me. The clock on the wall is laughing at my blank expression, I just know it. I haven't slept in days or maybe it's been weeks? I lay there night after night my mind playing slide shows of possibilities on the screen behind my eyes. I feel numbness spread over me and fall into a dreamless sleep only to wake two hours later covered in cold sweat and sobbing.

  So again, I sit at my computer trying to figure out where I am going. I make a doctors appointment so that I can go tell my sob story and be prescribed something to sleep, something to bring back the numb. Leaving I drive past Sport's Authority and I flip the car around. I sit in the parking lot staring at the sign, Authority seems to be beckoning me. The word is rolling around in my mouth trying desperately to escape the border of my tongue. I whisper the word, "authority" it sounds good to my ears, so I try it a little louder, "AUTHORITY." Yes, hmm. I would like some authority back in my life. I am taking control.

  I meander around until I come across a shirt that says simply, "RUN." It seems God is talking to me in fitness gear today, but I will take it. I know when I am being given messages and when to just ignore that voice in my head, so I buy a pair of running shoes and skip my doctors appointment. Driving home was one of those afternoons when you can't help but roll the windows down, so I did. I let the radio play,and my mind drifted over the possibilities for the first time without a negative light surrounding all of them.

   Oh I know I am not cured. I know I am nowhere near over it. Every single day is going to be a battle for awhile. But I have to make the choice, "Xanax or my running shoes?"