Anybody else struggling with feeling like with all the insanity that we’re bombarded with every single day that you just want to hide your head in the sand, take a break from it all, and act for, just one day, that it isn’t happening? I know I sure as hell do. The only trouble with that attitude is that I feel so many of us have been doing this for years, which is why a person like Trump is even sitting in the White House with his KKK buddy, Bannon in the first place. I feel like this is not the time for us to all leave it up to other people to speak up/out about what is happening in America. So, since this is my commitment to the planet, I have decided to counter all the negative that comes with being a mouthpiece against injustice, with a plan to protect myself. For starters, I will shield myself by spending lots of time with good people, who bring me joy, and make me laugh. I will exercise to relieve any stress, and to stay healthy. I will meditate, breathe, and pray, and I will enjoy some tequila, wine, or vodka. Not all at once, or together, but as I see fit.
Another kick in the gut I’m having difficulty processing is our boy Mack. Today we received the official news that Mack does in fact have DM. His DNA swab came back positive, with two mutations of the gene. Today wasn’t the happiest day I’ve ever had, because I mean, before we received the scientific evidence, there was still a good chance he didn’t have THAT. And, if he didn’t have THAT, then we would remove the adrenal gland that has a tumor on it. If he didn’t have DM, he might have something else that isn’t such a death sentence. But, alas, here we are. No more head in the sand, or hoping that he just might have something else, that is treatable. The piece I’m personally struggling with the most during this wild time, is taking time to grieve over things that are sad to me…that are disappointing in my own personal life. I can’t shake the feeling that, so many others have it so much worse than I do. Children are fleeing for their lives in so many countries with no roofs over their heads, not enough food to eat, and with the very real fear of death lurking around every single corner. Then there’s me. An emotional wreck at the thought of losing her dog.
I’ll be walking around minding my busy, or futzing with something in the house, and I’ll catch sight of Mack. He’ll bounce over to me, give me that excited, hopeful puppy dog look, and I begin to sob. I know he doesn’t have much time left, but he doesn’t seem to have any idea that he’s been given four months. I just can’t. I can’t think about it. I can’t look at him without wanting to throw my arms around him and sob, all the time. I just can’t. But then I chastise myself and feel a fool, because, he’s a dog, and people are losing their children all day, every day.
He is my dog.
They are their children.
Ugh. Why am I built the way I am? Why do I need to beat myself up for loving my dog the way I do? Also, why do I continually try to stop myself from feeling what I feel, because other people have it way worse than I do. People are actually losing their own lives, and the lives of their beautiful flesh and blood kids…I gotta get it together, and keep my shit in perspective folks. The question for me is, how???