Slowly, slowly, I’m remembering how to ride this horse.
I’m not getting quite so unglued about being unglued. I finally got a little space between me and the overwhelming hysteria that seemed to be my first reaction to anything out of the ordinary.
The lead minister at our Unitarian church leaves for a six month sabbatical next week, and I burst into flames of abandonment. Finding out my drill bits were all broken or worn to useless nubbins, made me want to throw my drill, my project, and myself into the dumpster. When the motor on my humidifier started gargling, I unplugged it and cried at the kitchen sink until the cats came to see what was trapped in the garbage disposal.
What happened to my problem-solving skills? What happened to the List Maker? The Abstract/Sequential Thinker? The ability to just take a breath?
I could see that I’d circled around to Crazy Town again, but forgot how to navigate the emotional dust storm.
Until I relaxed into it.
I found the metaphorical saloon and waited out the storm.
When the illness rages, it’s best for me to just hunker down, shift to self-soothing activities like playing with my pretty ribbons, and stop trying to push against the gale and grit. It’s awful, that waiting, when the voice in my head tells me I’m worthless, useless, broken. That voice knows exactly where all the cracks are in my defenses, all the old buttons to push. It’s a scheming, sneaky bastard.
So, I forced myself to set aside the paperwork for my rent recertification, and dealing with the bed and breakfast in California that cancelled my reservation, and finding a new source of pretty ribbons since mine dried up. I remembered to pull a Scarlet O’Hara and “think about them tomorrow,” because the storm will pass, and my brain will come back from the privy, and we’ll slap off the dust and tumbleweeds and be on our way.
I don’t remember ever riding a horse, but I don’t trust that non-remembering. With a nephew and an ex-brother-in-law both doing the rodeo circuit, I must have sat a horse at least once. What I hear from riders is that it takes muscle, and until you build that muscle, your ass hurts. So, I’m in the Aching Ass phase of relearning how to ride this bipolar bronc. Great.
At least I’m in the saddle.
SandySue Altered
Feb 12, 2016 @ 09:35:25
Ride em Cowboy! Ever hear that song by Lyle Lovett, “Pony on my boat”? I just love it. If you get a chance to listen to it, it may give you a smile! Love you, Sandy
Feb 14, 2016 @ 13:40:25
I love that one, too, Dee.
(Oh, dear. Lyle’s had a hair accident here)
Feb 12, 2016 @ 09:47:21
you have a great way with words. I hope your aching-ass storm clears soon X
Feb 14, 2016 @ 13:38:34
Thanks, ever so. I’m hearing a sitz bath helps.
Feb 12, 2016 @ 12:11:36
You are the only other person I have ever run across who refers to Scarlett O’Hara as an activity. Scarlett O’Hara that shit! lol
Seriously though, becoming unglued because you are becoming unglued is insult to the injury. Being kind to ourselves is so difficult but I’m glad you are finding your way.
Feb 14, 2016 @ 13:37:45
And don’t we do that even more when we’re at our worst? Another bumfuck bipolar deal.
Feb 14, 2016 @ 13:56:16
but of course!
Feb 12, 2016 @ 19:04:57
Love the close. And ride tall you will.
Feb 14, 2016 @ 13:36:42
Yoda he is.
Feb 13, 2016 @ 01:47:12
Peace, love, and strong-ass glutes to you, Sandy Sue! From your Abstract/Random blogging neighbor. 😉😊😘😁
Feb 14, 2016 @ 13:36:26
HeeHeeHee.
Feb 13, 2016 @ 09:08:52
You’ve got that right. Getting back in the saddle isn’t easy nor for wimps. Get your inflatable ring cushion out to ease the ache of getting back on that horse and give it hell girl!
Feb 14, 2016 @ 13:35:51
Yes! Some practical advice about numb-butt!
Feb 13, 2016 @ 11:55:50
What great analogies I felt like I was in the rodeo with you,
Feb 14, 2016 @ 13:34:49
Oh, no! Hang on tight!
Feb 13, 2016 @ 11:58:41
I could see that I’d circled around to Crazy Town again, but forgot how to navigate the emotional dust storm. – good post!
Feb 14, 2016 @ 13:34:25
Thanks!
Feb 13, 2016 @ 16:19:24
“I’m not getting quite so unglued about being unglued”…. love this post and your insight!
Feb 14, 2016 @ 13:34:03
Thanks, Val.
Feb 14, 2016 @ 12:46:51
Love your ‘aching ass’ metaphor. Don’t love your challenge, of course… and wish you well as you navigate your way out of the storm, which I sense you always do. Remaining calm can be an elusive thing, at the best of times… 😉
Feb 14, 2016 @ 13:33:15
Thank you, Carolyn. So glad you wandered over to visit.
Feb 17, 2016 @ 09:10:24
Hope the “aching ass” phase passes quickly and you’re soon back in the saddle again.
Feb 17, 2016 @ 14:00:39
Still in the saddle. Still chapped.