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Picking up the pieces.

It’s no secret that my life has been a little topsy-turvy over the years.  Things get moving in the right direction, something happens and everything in my life explodes. Bits and pieces are blown everywhere and I struggle to pick them up and put things back together the way they were. 

When it happened again recently, I was blindsided.  It  literally came out of the blue, and everything changed in a moment.  I had a plan laid out, I was working the plan, and things were moving in the right direction, then boom.  Nothing is the same. 

I was devastated and pretty down in the dumps for a little while.  I would have stayed there too.  It was a big mess.  I had to scramble to find a new place to live. I ended up moving 400 miles away.  The daily routine I had established was gone. There is no routine now. The support system I thought I had locally was nowhere to be found. I had no idea what I was going to do.  

I just did what I could do.  I made the move to a new state.  I worked on my phone wherever I could find wifi service until I could get it set up at my new place.  Some things suffered (I’m waaay behind on my writing schedule) but I focused on some other things. I still made a good deal of progress. 

The holidays are upon us, and I’ve managed to make ends meet, and buy gifts for my girls.  It’s not been all that bad.  I had a good start this time though.  In the past, I’ve started over with absolutely nothing. This time, I had a lot of things already in place. it was just a matter of making the move and not letting my emotions lock me into a very dark and paralyzing place. 

I won’t like, I’ve had days that I was completely down and out. I sat in a chair or on the couch and cried through entire days.  I spent a lot of time rehashing what happened and trying to convince myself that there wasn’t something completely wrong with me and that I was going to be doomed to this kind of thing my entire life.  

I get through them though.  I go to bed at night and listen to relaxation meditations, and I get up in the mornings knowing that it’s a new day and I have options. I can sit and cry all day or I can get to work. Or, I can do a combination of the two. I spend more days doing the combination thing.  

Things happen that bring up thoughts that make me cry.  I take a moment, get it out, and then get back to work.  It’s gotten to the point that I might have a few times a day that I tear up now, but they don’t fall like they used to.  I’m ok with that.  I’m picking up the pieces and putting them someplace different this time.  


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