Wednesday, November 18, 2015

Trying to Kick Rocks

*blows dust off of laptop*

Water? Check.

Music? Check. 

*takes a deep breath*

It's been a minute. A long minute. A lot has happened. Just couldn't put my thoughts into words. Truth be told, I'm not sure if I can do it now.  This is an ATTEMPT, so take it for what it's worth.

My blogs have always been my way to get through this thing called life. I just, well, somewhere this year, I stopped caring. About life, about myself. Now, don't get me wrong, I've had a very good first half of  2015. I turned 40, moved, and started a new job all in one week. I can safely say that I LOVE my job, LOVE my new city (well, my 2nd home), and I LOVE the fact that my daughter is now a sophomore at Prairie View A&M University. I watched my niece become valedictorian of her high school, and go to Howard University. I also welcomed my newest love...another niece (my doll!). And I also witnessed my baby sister get married to the love of her life. That was pretty freaking awesome! 

It was what happened in the middle that kinda fucked me up.

My foot. My right foot.

It was a freak accident.  I tore the long tendon in my foot. It usually only happens in athletes, and we ALL know that I'm not an athlete. Only I could do some shit like that. I've realized that I'll have to have surgery. I can't fight it. It stays swollen. I can't wear heels. I often look at it in disgust. I didn't realize how much that this injury has brought me down until recently...when a good friend put it in my face. She told me that I haven't been the same since it happened, that my positive attitude has gone & that I don't smile like I used to. 

She's right.  I don't. It's like, I messed this foot up, and my give-a-damn went right out the window. I'm trying to retrain my mind right now to get back to who I used to be..or a better version of her. This shit has fucked me up...badly. I've cried tears that no one has seen. I'm independent. TOO independent...and that, in itself, has been a gift and a curse.

I'm saying all of this for a reason. I've avoided the notion of surgery because of two reasons:
  1. I don't have enough time to take off from work yet...and...
  2. I don't have anyone to be there for me.
Now, before you all go and say some shit like, "but you have friends and family"...yes, I do. I know this already. That's not what I mean. 

At the age of 40, I sometimes feel that I shouldn't be single. Now, I've had men come in my life, but something always happens, or something turns me off. I feel that, at this point in my life, I should have someone consistent in my life who will be there when I need them. (My big brothers don't count.) It scares me to have to go through a surgery and not having someone there taking care of me afterwards. This may seem silly to y'all, but fuck it. This is how I feel. 

Now, don't get it twisted, I'm not feeling sorry for myself. I'm just stating facts. 

Then again...maybe it's me.  Maybe I should change who I am. Maybe I'm too much. I love to laugh, I tell corny laugh is boisterous. Maybe I should just be quiet...know my place as a woman. Change my heart and my head so that I can get a man...

...naw, fuck that. This is me, this is who I am. As much as I am all of those things above, I'm also a loyal, kind woman. I listen...well. I have a big heart that will give anyone my last. And that's not saying that I wouldn't be submissive to a man (that's another blog for another day), but it has to be for the RIGHT man. I've spoken to someone in great detail about this, but I think that at the time, he didn't get what I was trying to say...and I don't know if he knew it at the time, but I was in tears while discussing it with him. 

It's hard for me to have weak moments, because I'm so strong for everyone else. (Once again, another blog, another day.) My weak moments are BAD. People never see them. My own closest friends RARELY see them. I hide them well. It could be a moment in the shower. I've even parked my car in a parking lot and just let the tears flow. I release it and try to keep moving. This foot though...


What I've told myself is that I have to keep it moving, bad foot and all. It's a must that I keep pushing, even if I'm limping. I've constantly told people that, no matter what happens, I'm a big girl, and I'll be ok. And I will be. It'll take me some time, but I will be.

(This blog was a whole lot of nothing. Ramblings. Nothingness. But it made me feel better. It served its purpose.)