At Least My Legs Still Work

A year, ago, a friend of ours from another state was climbing and fell something like 40 ft to what his family surely thought would be his death.  He lived, though.  The damage to his spine was pretty significant and he lost the use of his legs.  This guy was a bike-riding, hiking, running, always active kinda guy.  A year later, he's recovering still and is learning how to keep living his best life.

Since that day, lots of things in my life have seemed pretty insignificant.  Trials and annoyances and such.  I have said many times to my family, "At least your legs still work".  

My phone died, today.  

I went through all the stages - denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and now I'm working on acceptance.  Hence the writing - nothing clarifies my thoughts more than writing them down.

To-do lists, books I plan to read, ideas for a book I'm going to write, songs I want to sing at the next karaoke party, my calendar, quotes upon quotes upon quotes, and pictures... months of pictures.  Thankfully, I just got this phone like right after Christmas, I think.  But, my heart is sick over everything I've lost.  

I used to know all the phone numbers in my life - all of them.  I used to keep a planner/calendar and an alarm clock and notebooks... I've grown so dependent on my phone.  Haven't we all? My music is on there, my scriptures were on there, several links to family and friends... And to think once upon a time we didn't have all of that and still did just fine.

I find myself wondering, how am I going to go for my daily walk or do my dishes without my music? What am I going to do in the hammock without Netflix to watch? I have doctors and dentist appointments next week... what time were they at? What days?? 

And the pictures..... they're gone.  

My crossword puzzles, my word puzzles... gone.  My app for my new fitness band... gone.  My WW app that I've been so painstakingly updating every day for weeks... gone.  

How am I going to know what the weather's supposed to be like? What if someone texts me and doesn't know I don't have my phone for a few days? 

Miraculously, my phone was under warranty.  I get a "certified like new device" mailed to me for free.  But there's no way to transfer the data from my current phone to my "new" phone.  It's just gone.

But, hey - at least my legs still work.

Thank you and Goodbye

It's always late at night when that moment hits me - the "I need to write about this" moment.

There are a few pieces to this story - I'll try to put it together without rambling.

The piece that started it all - Marie Kondo tidies up my life.  I checked the book, Tidying Up, from the library when it first came out.  I never read it.  I've realized when it comes to books like that - the ones that can be life-changing - I tend to think about reading without actually doing it.  I think I have it in my head that once I read them, I might actually have to do something about it.  That's out of my comfort zone.  So, I continue to check them out from the library and they continue to sit on our library shelf in my front room until I run out of renewals.  This was such a book.  But then she came to Netflix.  Netflix, I can do - it's sort of the root of this post, but I'll get to that.  I binge-watched the show and to say it was life-changing would be an understatement.  I began mentally (and physically) going through my house, decluttering all the things that didn't spark joy.  It's still a work in progress.

Then something else happened - it occurred to me I needed to declutter my mind, too.  There are many things I've been clinging to that certainly don't spark joy.  Habits, thoughts, ideas, even people.  I tried explaining the process to a friend, once:  Imagine a fish tank.  Typically, they're filled with colorful things and are very pleasing to the eyes.  If you've ever owned one, though, you know this can be deceiving.  When you rustle up the rocks on the bottom, all the sediment gets disturbed and starts mucking up the water.  It's crap (literally) you didn't even realize was there.  Marie Kondo did that to my brain - she rustled up my rocks.  I started doing some soul-searching and self-evaluating.  This process simultaneously almost ended and essentially saved my marriage.  (Seriously, life-changing.)  My rocks needed to be rustled.  My brain-water needed to be super cleaned of all the crap that had been lying around for too many years.  It's been an exhausting but necessary process.  Also, still a work in progress.

In my mental decluttering, I've come to see that I'm stuck.  My life is a pattern of nothingness, kind of like a crib mobile that doesn't ever get anywhere; it just keeps going in the same futile direction.  Yesterday, after a day of being in a rotten mood, I realized this even more keenly than I ever have.  I took it to the temple with me, last night, and prayed for guidance.  I prayed for whatever it is I need to break free of this go-nowhere-makes-me-feel-rotten pattern.  I had an inkling what might be adding to my fruitless existence.

This brings me to the Netflix piece of my story.  Lately, I've been watching a lot of Netflix.  Like, a lot.  And by lately, I mean for months.  I work from home and don't always have a lot of work to do so I've been filling my time with binge-watching.  Netflix has been there for me when I needed it.  It was one of my few happy thoughts when I was struggling with postpartum depression after Owen was born.  My in-laws had just introduced it to us and I loved it.  It provided a mental escape from the ugliness I faced every waking moment for so long after his birth.  It was something normal and, oh, how I needed normal in my life at that time.  It was a safe distraction from the thoughts of anguish and despair that clouded my days.  It was one of the few things that didn't make me feel worse.

These days, though, I find myself thinking of my cleverly coined phrase, "Numbing with Netflix" because lately (and by lately, I mean for years), I haven't been loving my life.  Netflix has been my escape.  I could avoid the mess that's been in my home and in my mind by immersing myself in the fictional lives of others.  I could forget about the crud building up on the bottom of my fish tank as long as I was watching Netflix.

I feel like my tank-cleaning growth of late was feeling stifled, hence my feeling rotten, yesterday.  I've been decluttering in all these other areas but have still been keeping the same unhealthy pattern that Netflix had become, a pattern I didn't know how to break free from.

In my bedtime prayer, tonight, I followed up on my pleas uttered when I was at the temple.  How do I break free? My answer came.

I need to Marie Kondo that b- ... I mean, I need to let it go.  I need to say thank you to Netflix for being there for me, for serving its purpose when I so desperately needed it, and I need to let it go.  It's no longer needed and has become unnecessary clutter that leaves little room for progress, and frankly, I'm progressing more than I ever have these days.  I need the room.

Ruminating

"Life is what happens to you while you're busy making other plans."
                                                             
                                                                             - John Lennon

That's how I feel a lot of my life has been.  I'm a list maker, goal setter, plan prepper.  The thing that all of these have in common, though, is the regret I feel when I never get it all done. I spend a lot of time (and life) thinking about how I'm going to do things instead of actually doing them.  Then I look back and kick myself so hard for not doing it as perfectly as I had envisioned.  The "if only" attitude I seem to have 97% of the time is sometimes all-consuming.

I have made a new year's resolution pretty much every year of my life for as long as I can remember.  I even signed and laminated it one year.  Last year, I think, was the first year I actually accomplished one of my goals.  It became a part of my daily routine (scripture study) and I love it.

The end of last year went by so quickly and was so busy that if I thought about it, I would probably end up watching all of my Christmas movies and crying because I feel like I didn't get enough Christmas out of Christmas.  (I say this because one night while I was not sleeping, something I do regularly these days, that's what it came to.) We went out of state to visit family for the week of Christmas - which was great, don't get me wrong - but pretty much all of October and November and December was consumed with lists and planning and budgeting and shopping, not to mention my church responsibilities.  The holidays went by way too fast and I still haven't fully unpacked from our trip.  My Christmas decorations are still gathering dust around my house.

I didn't get a solid resolution down is my point.  The first of the year came and went and I still didn't have one.  That's not to say I haven't been thinking about it.  I've been seeing some things on social media about what other people are doing and of course, my thoughts go right to "Oh - that's a good idea... I should do that, too!" and I inevitably feel bad about not thinking of something so clever, myself, and all the years wasted not doing that very thing.

One of the things I saw a friend or two doing was coming up with a word that will be what they try to center their year around.  One friend in particular's word is "joy".  Joy is actually something I was after last year.  I spent an awful lot of time thinking about it.  I don't know that I actually accomplished anything solid, though.  That's something I want for my life, though.  Joy is more solid than happiness.  "Comparison is the thief of joy."  I do this.  I compare myself.  To others, to my old self... and it's a fruitless exercise.

Resolutions, I've decided, are like diets: doomed to fail.  What's needed, instead, are a gradual implementation and melding of lifestyle changes.

This year and for the rest of my life, I want simplicity.  I want to be rid of the things that don't bring me joy.  Even the thoughts that don't bring me joy.  I want more life out of life.  I want to find myself.  Not that I'm lost, but uncover the me that's been buried by thoughts of failure and comparison and inadequacy and more failure and clutter.  Oh my gosh, the clutter.  Before the tidying show came to Netflix, I have found myself really questioning the value of the "things" in my life that seem to just fill and overcome the space that is my home and my life.  And yes, my mind, I would wager.  Even my email is cluttered and in need of a cleanout.

I follow a blog of someone I have come to love and admire.  She posted something that felt so much like she was writing down the very thoughts in my head.  She talks of having a very, very busy mind and stressing about the past or future and being in a constant loop of wishes and dreads, not being in the moment.  I do that.  I'm fairly certain I'm on the autism spectrum or have OCD or something because I obsess.  I'm compulsive.  And my anxiety is through the roof because of it.  I'm convinced I can't have real friends because of it.  I start a lot of needless arguments amongst my family because of it.  I know I lose sleep because of it.  My life and my mind are a mess.  A couple of years, ago, I went off of medication with the help of my doctor.  I was convinced I could manage my anxiety on my own.  It's all I think about because it's always there, and, again, all-consuming.  I made a decision the other day that this is not the quality of life I want.  I feel like I can't do other things because I'm so busy just trying to maintain, which I can't always do on my own.

My blogger also said this:  "I'd like to think I'm a kind person.  Kindness, after all, is a quality I value deeply in others.  But if I spend, oh, say 12 out of every 24 hours tearing myself down, I have to wonder if maybe I'm not doing kindness right.  ...You can't give anyone anything that you don't have.  That feels true, and it reminds me how faulty it is to think kindness is a one-way street."  My truth couldn't have been spoken more clearly.  I constantly beat myself up.  I know this is because of whatever is causing my mind's unwanted demand for perfection.  I unconsciously expect it - perfection - in myself, in my family, in the people around me.

If I could take a chill pill, I would.  Wait... I can.  ha  I'm going to talk to my doctor about going back on medication.  I'm sincerely hoping and praying that it helps me do just that - chill.  I want to enjoy life, not numb myself with Netflix or food because I can't handle it.  I want to be in control of at least one thing - myself.  I want to be able to see a mess in my home and not freak out about it because I feel like my life is spiraling out of control and I have to maintain that perfect (see, there it is again) balance.  I want to see things on social media and not feel bad because I'm not just like that.  I want to be ok with who I am and how I do things.  I want to cease feeling this weight that seems to be holding me down, that I have to battle from the moment I wake up till the moment I finally fall asleep.  I want to enjoy the rest of my life (not just this year) with no regrets.  I want to be free from the brain and life clutter that overwhelms me just by looking at or thinking about it.  I want to not care about what other people think.  I want to stop obsessing about my mothering or my children or their futures or their health or my health or money or friends... I want to stop obsessing.  Period.  And dang it, I want to be able to sleep.

I want to live my best life.

And I'm not going to feel guilty because I didn't start this on January 1st.