I’ve always struggled with this. What people think of me. Sadly, I’ve made more than my share of “enemies” (by enemies, I mean people who hate my guts!). I suppose Winston Churchill was right when he said, “You have enemies? Good. That means you’ve stood up for something, sometime in your life.” Most of the “enemies” I’ve made have been from rescue. Volunteers or employees who decided they didn’t like working for me or didn’t like a decision I made, so it became personal. I’ve joked many times about the “I hate Lisa” club that seems to grow in front of my eyes. I see the passive-aggressive Facebook posts and memes (well, I did before I left FB, no more!). Almost every “enemy” I’ve made has been about the dogs. Me being about the dogs, them wanting it to be about them, and then a nasty parting of ways. Them telling others their side, others joining the IHL club, and so it goes. It’s the cost of doing business when your business is based on so much emotion. It’s unfortunate that grown people behave that way, and it’s even more unfortunate when it’s blatant and public.
I’ve learned to accept that.
But now, it’s a whole new “what will they think?”. I’ve been doing lots around the house. I’ve been throwing away lots of things that we had planned to get rid of for a long time (damn the procrastination – all of the “we have to” projects are now “I have to” projects. And hey, I have nothing else to do, so I’m doing them). From the outside, it may appear that I’m gutting the house and moving on and just cruising right through this, but really what I’m doing is tending to the things WE always needed to do. But, what do they think? What do they think of the recliner in my driveway that says “Free” on it? Do they think I’m getting rid of “his” chair? I’m not. He didn’t have a chair. He wasn’t Archie Bunker. It’s an old recliner that’s been in our basement for the entire 6 years that we have lived in this house, and we don’t have a finished nice basement (I don’t have a finished basement- the “we” just won’t leave my vocabulary yet). It’s just a basement. And the recliner just needs to go. Nothing more.
What will they think when I go out and maybe have some fun? What will they think if I decide to trade in Michael’s car (that neither of us loved anyway)? What will they think if I take a vacation? Will it look like I didn’t love Michael? Or maybe will it look like I sure got over this fast?
Who are “they”? And why do I care?
Let’s circle back. Vacation. I’m really thinking of taking myself on a trip someplace. I want it to be someplace warm, and not overly family-friendly. I’d like to not be vacationing with a lot of kids, and I’d like it to be a cool place for me to travel to solo – AND has to be domestic. Ideas? Let me hear them.
And, what others think…why am I worried about this? Why am I afraid to do something kind for myself, for fear that others will judge me? Nobody has said or implied anything like this. My mind is running away with it and I’m not sure why…
In other news, I’m still doing crazy things around the house. The latest undertaking is staining the wood in the house. ALL the wood. Window frames, door frames, banisters, doors. My house is FULL of wood and it’s ALL that 1980’s golden oak. So, why not take on a huge project that has lots of potential to be an epic fail? I’m staining it all Mission Oak which is dramatically darker. I think my mood medication needs to be adjusted. I don’t want to be sanding and staining in the middle of the night. My energy levels continue to be almost unmanageable.
I talk to Michael all day long. I miss him so much. I don’t know when the complete emptiness will become more bearable. I know that’s a big part of why I’m taking on so much at home. When I’m sanding, I’m not thinking of him. It’s not a conscious effort; I think it’s just where my instincts are taking me. I made a deal with myself that I was just going to be a passenger to my instincts unless I feel like I’m making unsafe decisions. I don’t want to change what I feel like I need to do to cope; I’d just like to not NEED to do all of this to cope. I know, I know…time and patience blah blah blah. And none of that helps when I’m climbing into an empty bed every night, or have something fun to share or need advice or need a hug from someone who loves me unconditionally. Someone who really made the “what will they think?” question not matter so much. Because he loved me and that’s all that mattered.
That’s all for today.