Crash landing

Part of me is a sick, twisted Pollyanna who simply has to find the good in everything. That attribute is both one of my strengths and most annoying qualities. It makes me able to ride some pretty rough roads and still have some enthusiasm for the rest of the drive. It can also feed my tendency to live in my head and escape from reality.

I really don't need to worry about the latter aspect of looking for the best in everything today. Pollyanna has been grounded, sent to the darkest corner of the basement, and I'm just overwhelmed. With everything that's hit lately, illnesses, the car troubles, the realization of the hopelessness of my marriage and my stupidity for trying to make it last as long as I did, and some other stuff that's just not appropriate for a blog, I've been handling one detail at a time. Today, I took a look at the bigger picture and just broke.

I sat down and cried, harsh, ragged, body shaking sobs that eventually tapered down to slow, silent tears. I sat silent and still. I couldn't turn off the drumbeat in my head that's saying I've completely screwed up my life, and I'm too old to make any real improvements. I'm not proud of this. I hate crying. It's ugly. It's embarrassing. It feels like something I can't control. It feels like a weakness, and yet I feel like I'm one of life's appointed criers, stuck with a leaky face that responds too easily to beauty and pain. Every now and then, a tear will still come out, and the self-disgust begins anew.

Then I got up and took my Prozac. That's all the fight I have in me today, but it's a starting place. The next step is a request to my friends. If you pray, say one for me. If you channel your energy out into the universe, send some positive waves my direction. If you hold fond thoughts and best wishes, include me. If you light candles with positive intentions, light a flame for me.

In my beliefs, we are all one in God, inter-related in ways we cannot understand. My little part of this great unity is sagging badly today. Part of faith is knowing that it will rise again, and I appreciate your part in the"lift."