The only limitations we have are the ones we put on ourselves.
On a whim I watched this documentary on the death penalty.
They were interviewing the executioner and he said something that just hit me in the right place at the right time. He said he’s going to live in the dash.
The dash being the line between the day you’re born and the day you die on your tombstone.
That dash represent something. Your life as a whole. I want people to look at that dash and be able to say, “I was right here. I was allowed to be a part of something so wonderful because she allowed me to be.” I want my children to know that the dash is long and deep because of them.
I want everyone to touch it and say, “my part of this dash represents the first time she saw the Empire State Building.” Or “my part of this dash is the day we crossed that finish line together and par for course she cried her heart out because she was so proud of me.”
There are people that came into my life and like it or not are a part of that dash. The other day one of my children brought up my ex and as much as every time his name is mentioned it makes me cringe, I allow them to talk, share or vent what they are feeling. It’s not fair that they keep anything bottled up because they are afraid it will hurt my feelings.
She mentioned “remember that time…” and that snowballed into, “we never liked him. A children’s instinct. You should have listened to us.”
It’s strange how you can have 750 things go through you at that very moment. I try to rationalize, then I get angry. Then I get sad. Then I get angry. Then I get sad. This is just in the time to that it took to walk from the car to the house.
I really thought I was doing the right thing all the way through my marriage. Yeah, they didn’t like him at first, but then they did. My oldest told me that she didn’t like him a long, but didn’t want to say anything because I seemed so happy. HOLY FUCK. I faked my way through most of that marriage until it finally took such a toll on my life that I became so depressed, anxiety ridden that my body broke down and I got sick.
He was good for me, I told myself. He was good for the girls, I told myself. Over and over I stayed because he was such a great step-dad to my kids and I was so tired of being the bad guy, being frustrated all the time. Tired of feeling scared that I was doing it all wrong.
Come to find out, I was.
Today I just need someone to say, “You’re not a bad person. You’re not a bad parent and it will be alright.”
She didn’t mean to bring it up to hurt me, I know this. It just does because I feel like I let them down when I thought I was doing the right thing.
I’ve been having a hard time communicating with people. I’ve shut down a lot lately and I feel bad for friends and family. My poor sister. She just wants to talk.
My daughter who lives a million miles away. I’ve been talking to Victoria, but I don’t ever go too deep. I use to be able to talk to this one friend and tell her every deep dark secret and bawl my eyes out in her garage and she would have some amazing advice and then we would go out to the casino and sit in front of a machine and forget about it all. Maybe it wasn’t the healthiest of relationships, but it was ours and I did cherish it. I had another friend I put my trust in and she crushed it as soon as she saw an out of having to take any responsibility. I don’t trust anymore.
I do love people soooooo much though so I give and give and give and just hope that someday they will give back. I haven’t been disappointed lately in my friends. I give what I have, they take and they make me so proud and that is giving me back more than I could imagine.
There is a group of people in my life since I changed it and they are pretty rock solid. Wendy makes an effort to come see me and I am lousy for not going to see her more.
Amanda. Wow. What an amazing friend she has become. I wish we lived closer.
Victoria…without fail shows up, water bottle in hand with complete trust that I will get her out and make her run further, longer or faster than the last time we went out. She ran for 20 minutes straight today and I swear it takes everything in me not to cry when I see how much she is putting into this.
Birdie, the other day sent me a text saying she signed up for a 10k and she ran it the next day. She swore to me that she wouldn’t run anything more than a 5k and when she decided to do the 10k, I was the person she texted.
Amanda believes in me to get that half under my belt. I know I can too, I just need to get over the fear of the large crowd of people. If I could just teleport to the starting line before the gun goes off I would be great. The anxiety of all those people, parking, forgetting something…the list goes on. GAH.
The dash in my life right now has a lot of great times, wonderful people and amazing memories. I want more in my dash. I want New York. I want to see waterfalls and to go fish in Alaska. I want to run in all 50 states. I want to see Mt. Rushmore. I want my car to start. I want to know that when my friends and family run their hands over that dash they knew they were loved and that I was alright.