Strugglebus.

Do people actually still blog?

It seems a little outdated, a little longform, a little tl:dr. God knows I haven't been doing it regularly for years, but every once in a while my personal journal doesn't seem like quite enough...like I need to put something out into the wider world. And that, gentle reader, is exactly what you've stumbled across. I won't blame you if you click away, promise.

The reason for today's public navel-gazing might simply be the fact that things are feeling complicated and difficult, and the regular social media channels somehow seem less able to support something that isn't positive or humblebraggy (and let's be honest, I post aaaaaall kinds of that shiz), or if it's not something shiny, it's short and pithy and #keepingitreal.

(tl:dr it's been a shitty week. but maybe the shittiness will help me to prioritize what's really important? TO BE CONTINUED.)(Maybe.)

My older dog needs surgery (scheduled for next week) for a lump on his jaw, and I'm terrified that its going to be something serious. He just turned 10, and he is my heart - I need him to stick around for a few more years.

After struggling for a week I went to the doctor for a strained hip flexor, hoping for some physical therapy and maybe a massage to help it out. Instead, I found out that one of my hips has a deformity, and that the hip flexor is the least of my problems. While there's a huge part of me that's a little relieved that the pain wasn't caused by me overdoing it/generally being a jackass at the gym, I'm still a little surprised at the development.

But the hardest thing has been the loss of my husband's uncle to suicide just after Thanksgiving. I can't reconcile the warm, smiling, easy-humored man that we saw at family functions and the holidays with the act. I am devastated that he felt that there was no other option, that he felt the need to hide his despair and paranoia from his wife and daughter, that he couldn't bring himself to seek help.

I drove to Pennsylvania early Thursday morning, under a sunrise that was breathtakingly beautiful: I ditched the Turnpike and whipped my car a little too quickly around bendy Laurel Highland roads: I listened angrily to a Catholic priest speak about needing to pray the deceased into heaven due to the choice he had made, while watching the shoulders of his wife and daughter shake and bend with sorrow: I ugly cried my way out of the funeral home: I turned to a favorite song for comfort on the drive home, Iron & Wine's The Trapeze Swinger: I got to this lyric before needing to pull over to cry.

Please, remember me
My misery
And how it lost me all I wanted
Those dogs that love the rain
And chasing trains
The colored birds above there running
In circles round the well
And where it spells
On the wall behind St. Peter's
So bring with cinder gray
And spray paint
"Who the hell can see forever?"

Who the hell indeed.

Here's a toast to being well-loved.
And a challenge to find flexibility under duress;
To make the small moments resonate as beautifully as the larger ones,
And to celebrate the smallest wins.



Comments

Greg Spontak said…
I can't say whether people still blog. (I never have.) I can't even say that I read any anymore. But I landed here, so I thought I'd let you know: I hear you. I've been having a rough few days myself (for smaller reasons - mostly it's hard being a parent.) So for some strange reason this was a comfort.
Anyhow, lovely toast. I hope things are brightening for you.
Thanks for reading, and for writing Greg. Struggles are just that, regardless of size, right? I hope that your parenting struggles are balancing themselves out with some more lighthearted, fun moments. (and if they're not, I hope the universe is still showing up and leaving some fun and humor at your doorstep.) Cheers to your and yours!

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