My husband is sleeping, and I’m holed up in the kitchen-just finished watching Downton Abbey. I’ve got a lot of thoughts swirling in my brain, so here I sit instead of sleeping. It’s probably a good thing for him…apparently I have a habit of stealing the covers and have been known to snore on occasion. Lightly and melodically, I’m sure.
New York, New York, a helluva town. Keeping me up, when I wanna be down. (Forgive me.)
I’m still finding my way here and I have to admit that there have been a few moments where I’ve been intimidated by this place and what I need to do to make it here.
I absolutely HATE admitting that…it signifies weakness and fear and doubt and who wants to admit to that? Not me.
I’ve never regarded myself as a person who allows those feelings to govern her actions, but, right now, I’m looking this in the eye. And, the truth is, they have.
This isn’t the first time I’ve admitted this here. Doing it again kinda makes me feel like that addict who is heading to rehab for the 5th time.
I know we all have obstacles in our lives…what may be easy for one person to conquer, will be a blood-and-guts battle for someone else.
I have a sister who was recently diagnosed with type 2 diabetes. When she heard the news, she was so upset and felt so victimized by it. In all honesty, when she told me I wasn’t surprised, nor was I feeling very sympathetic. Diabetes runs in our family, and she knew that…but that didn’t stop her from living her life as if she were following instructions from the “How To Get Diabetes” playbook. Type 2 can be turned around, but it will mean a complete lifestyle overhaul for her. It will take an almighty effort on her part to change her eating habits and to make exercise a consistent part of her life. And it won’t be easy. But there’s no tomorrow for that. The clock is ticking, and every moment will bring her closer to beating it, or closer to daily insulin shots.
There is a parallel here with me. Diabetes is her struggle. Not allowing myself to be intimidated, nor allowing fear or doubt to govern my actions and keep me with my nose pressed up against the glass here is mine.
“You can’t start the next chapter of your life if you keep rereading the last one,” is a quote I’ve recently read. Fully letting go of where I’ve been to make room for where I want and need to be is the task at hand. To forgive myself for mistakes I’ve made, especially the mistakes I’ve made more than once, and to lose the guilt that keeps the mud in my wings is the move that will liberate me, and I have to believe I deserve that and just get it going already.
It’s now 3:38 a.m. on Easter Sunday, 2013. I want to much for this to be a turning point. I want so much for my sister to make that diagnosis a turning point for her. The place where everything changed and life got better because choices were made, and work was done that supported those choices. It’s up to her. It’s up to me. I can live and die just wanting. Doing is what changes things.
Now or never.