Season of Thanks

I know what my problem has been lately. I’ve been an ingrate. This is not the real me. Honest. I have always prided myself on my optimism, my “default mode” of happiness (thanks for the label, Joe) in the worse of situations, to count my blessings, my calm, thought-out actions (as opposed to emotional reactions). But, sometimes it is just hard. 


That’s what I blame a recent mental breakdown on. It’s happened once before in my life when I really thought I had too many sour apples in my basket. What did I know then? Ticking off my list, as of two weeks ago, my basket was overflowing with the rotting stuff. I saw the breakdown coming. I could not find the joy. Cynicism fogged my glasses thickly and my heart had all it could do to keep tripping on.


The specifics are not as important as how I came out of it. Some things were out of my control. Some things were time sensitive and would pass. Some, well, love is always hard for me to let go of. That’s another story in and of itself. 


I really believe some times one has to let oneself blow apart, find the bottom of the proverbial pit, make you physically ill to put things back into perspective. Isn’t that what psychologists and three-step programs point out? It sucks but it was what I needed. 


As I was trying to make my way out of the dark, two issues came to a head on the same day. The election ended and my son got his knee rebuilt. On those fronts, it helped to remind myself my family takes top billing. (Thankfully, now the biggest concern now is a matter of keeping the electric cooling pump around his knee full of ice and that the new cable television doesn’t distract the boy from his homework. He is managing by himself to keep the cats from riding up and down in glee on his knee in the perpetual motion machine his leg is strapped into!)


I did not endear myself during this transitional time to one of my employers by pointing out we are worth more than we’re being paid. It was more a matter of principle as well as the attitude with which they operate. I came out looking like I didn’t want the work, I was not grateful for it. That isn’t the case, but, anyone who speaks up becomes a bur under the saddle. This is not to say I will stop speaking my mind and voicing my concerns (as I’ve always done), in whatever the arena may be. I just won’t feel bad about it! So there! That’s another flea picked off. 


This is the traditional season of gathering and giving- why we don’t do it the rest of the year is beyond me but I guess it’s because we don’t leave enough time in our lives for this important stuff- and I am now ready to embrace it. I remember, now, what is important. The joy is returning. It’s vague some times but it can’t hide from me for long. Dang it, I’m grateful and I’m going to let it show. 


Now, where’d I put my “Pathologically Perky” button….

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About Lady Tie Di

I acquired the moniker of "Lady Tie Di" (my old radio name, a twist on my name, Dianne, and my creative side...) for a good reason. I make and sell tie dyes on occasion (amongst other things), my cars are often as not works of art and I do like color in my world. I try to spread peace and love where ever I can and to make people smile. And here I am doing something else I love- writing. Door's always open... come on in!
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3 Responses to Season of Thanks

  1. Kirsten says:

    It's so annoying when a breakdown comes in the middle of what in reality is a totally happy existence! I've also found it true that sometimes you need to blow apart/come to God/whatever to fully realize the blessings. As you know, there are many. I loved reading this and can totally relate. Thank you, D.

  2. Michelea says:

    Amen, Sistah! I hardly think of you as an ingrate (seriously, that's harsh), but i can understand the noticing that once in a while one is less grateful than normal. I hope your visit to points south was a soft landing for your rock bottom fall.

  3. lady tie di says:

    Most definitely…. thanks ever so much- once again! oxoxox

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