Army of Mom

So this is how liberty dies ... with thunderous applause.


Feeling Funk-y

In a bit of a funk today. I'm thinking it is PMS, but just having a rough patch. I'm reading I Will Not Be Broken by Jerry White. I was lucky to have it sent to me by the author's publicist to read and post some thoughts on.

I'm only at page 46, but I find it a really good read. It is essentially five steps to overcoming a life crisis (which is the secondary title of the book). It is difficult for me to read - to a certain degree - because the author does not believe in pity parties and I've been wrapped up in one for a few months now. So, it makes you face up to the cruddy stuff that life has dealt you. But, I also like the fact that he doesn't discount your trauma - whether it is losing a spouse (or a leg like the author did when he stepped on a landmine) or losing a job (which is what we're dealing with).

But, he talks about coping and dealing. Good things for me right now. It is funny that he focuses on how you can't let your grief consume you. Instead, you must accept it and find out what you can do to make things better.

At this point in the book, he is talking about how if you don't face your tragedy, it will find ways to creep into your life. I'm actually going through that right now. I try to move happily forward like nothing is wrong, but my fears come to me in my dreams in other scenarios. My mind is not going to let me ignore it or bury it. So, I'm trying to face it. Trying to keep my faith and trying to do the best that I can.

I'm not sure why it is at the forefront of my mind, but I keep remembering when my mom was diagnosed with breast cancer. I was just completing my sophomore year at Baylor and we were planning (me, mom and dad) to go to Europe for two weeks. I was so excited. We had gone to see an art exhibit in Dallas - I think it was King Tut or Titanic, I can't recall for sure - when my mom springs it on me that she has breast cancer and we can't go to Europe because she's having a radical mastectomy. I remember cracking jokes with her and dad and acting like all was well in the world and that this would be no big deal. Mom and dad seemed to relax almost instantly when I told them it was no big deal to miss the trip and I'd take a few weeks off from work and school to come stay with mom and help her recovery. I think it was the next day that I was going for my annual exam when the doctor told me I had an ovarian cyst. If it didn't shrink in a month, I'd have to go back in for surgery. *sigh* I think I sobbed the entire three-hour drive home from my folks' house to Baylor. Uzz probably remembers that trip, too. He had to endure it all, as well.

But, the book talks about 'intrusion' of traumatic facts rushing back in nightmares or flashbacks. Yep, I can appreciate that.

Maybe I'll break out of my funk soon. Gotta take my daughter to get new tap and ballet shoes as well as a new leotard and tights. My mom left her dance bag at the rec center last week and some stinker took it. I'm sure they were disappointed not to find cash or a cell phone, but instead some 5-year-old girl's dance gear. Poor baby was pretty sad to know someone took her favorite tutu that she received as a Christmas gift. Nice, huh?


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