I recently watched a rerun of hilarious MadTV skit, in which Bob Newhart played a psychiatrist to Mo's character. She'd spill her guts for awhile, and he'd listen intently, and then give his advice: "Well, stop it."
I think all too often we get caught up in our lives, or problems, our own neuroses, and we seek out pills and advice and counseling to fix our own problems or someone else's...when all we really need to do is just "stop it."
Those of you that don't know me don't know that I'm coming out of a tumultuous year...or so. I posted this blog once, with details of that tumult, and then came back and UN-posted it. Though I wrote for the sake of portrayal, my revelations felt windy and whiny, and made me uncomfortable. The overall message was that there's been a lot of stress and worry.
The good news is: things are clearing up. Those issues that caused some angst before all seem to be dissipating now.
The last few months have been extraordinarily NICE for me. My sister has been declared cancer free. Mom's meds seem to leave her less at a loss for words. My son and I have decided that perhaps just loving the stuffing out of one another might be a better way to go than bickering. My health is fine.
I just scored a part time job that I can work from home, which will ease a few financial burdens and maybe even allow me to travel or somethin! I've made a plethora of new, wonderful friends that leave me reeling. I love my home. I'm painting. I'm writing. And I'm laughing. Again.
And yet. When one is subjected to enough stress and chaos and drama for enough time, it is sometimes difficult not to ultimately, accidentally, to let those things define oneself. Despite the sun shining throught the clouds once again, I've found myself still walking around feeling edgy. Worry, worry, anxiety. Uptight and bickering with friends, a little too teary, sweating the small stuff, unable to sleep, and micro-managing my life.
A couple of months ago, though, I had a sudden epiphany: Waaaaaaaait a minute! What in the hell am I worrying about? There's nothing concrete in my life that could possibly making me feel any of this angst; it's simply become a terrible habit! I've never acted like this before in my life, I've been happy and relatively self-confident for most of my 40 years. I just seemed to have missed it when the pilot turned on the "You Can Stop Crying Now (for chrissakes)" light.
Knock it off! Buckle Up!
Just stop it.
Well OK. I will. I did! I have!
And I am having so much fun.
[Though a teeny little superstitious part of me worries that blogging about my wonderful life will jinx me, and a refrigerator will fall on my head on the way to the coffee shop tonigh...STOP IT!!!]