Frageellay

Remember that movie "A Christmas Story?" The dad gets the package of the leg lamp and on the crate it's stamped FRAGILE. He says its from France and pronounces it frageelay. Last night while pondering things I thought of the word fragile. Then while reading, the word popped out at me on the page. So it made me have these thoughts which I will now share. (Never write that in an essay, btw: here's my story, blah blah blah - I always teach my students - just say it don't say your going to say it, or that you have said it)

I was thinking of the fragility of life. The book I'm reading is about evacuating Paris as the Nazi's crushed down on France in WWII. The images in my mind were foggy and so being at my parents' decided to take advantage of their extensive history library and look at the WWII books. The devastation of Europe was absolutely mind boggling. Then, of course, my thoughts turned to my own life and it's fragility.

When I had Katie, I was overwhelmed with the responsibility of her life and almost suffocated by the enormous task of parenthood. I thought that someday, she'll be grown up and I will no longer worry about nearly every breath she takes. Ha! Incredibly, as she has gotten older, the fragility of her life has become even stronger. (How's that for an oxymoron). She is at a very tricky and fragile time. Those times when I think things are so good, something horrible must be getting ready to happen. Sick, I know. She got into college - one she likes, and she got a huge scholarship. Two things we've been dreaming about but seemed somehow just millimeters from reality. And now they are here. I think instead of relief and comfort, I feel overwhelming fear of losing even more.

I guess its why I am self destructive. When things are going well, I fear that it will end, so instead of enjoying it, I must destroy it myself, lest anyone else have that power. Also, sick, I know.

I hate lectures. I especially hate lectures from my parents. I would have thought that at my age (!) they would have ended. But then, I remember that as Katie has gotten older, my worries for her haven't ever subsided, but in fact gotten worse. The dangers are greater, the amount to lose greater. Also, she is at the exact moment in time when I destroyed my own life. A time for which I still punish myself. Words of an old therapist haunt me: When will you stop punishing yourself for that one mistake? I guess I better wrap my head around that and forgive myself.

I love that song by Doris Day (yes, and I love Doris Day, too - a secret only now to be revealed) Que Sera Sera. Whatever will be, will be. I love to sing that song and I crave having that attitude and feeling about life. I always think it is just beyond my grasp. I think I'll have that attitude when..... when the money is flowing....when Katie is grown....when summer gets here....when I retire....when when when. When?

For today, I will try to have that attitude.

Life

Sometimes, it sucks. Then, something really bad happens - maybe even to someone else - and all the stuff I complain about seems trivial. But still.

I'm depressed. I stopped taking anti-depressants. The Zoloft made me grind my teeth and clench my jaw -which then made me take xanax and wash it down with my fave bev - wine. Then it just started increasing. Zoloft-xanax-wine - rinse and repeat. Throw in some TrimSpa (yes, I have some) and SlimFast and I almost ANS (Anna Nicole Smith)'d myself.

So now I am chemical free (except for the hormones in my food I guess). OH, and hair dye. I even got rid of fake nails.

I am going to make some major changes. You know its really hard to have a pity party when Oprah is on. Damn that woman.