The Roadless Rule

MY SENTIMENTS EXACTLY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

To Live Again

Friends came over for the Thanksgiving holiday. I am thankful for great friends.

My husband, for some weird reason, on most holidays, becomes a jerk to me. I call him a natural born asshole because he is very good at it. It just comes out naturally. Last year he was the pompous ass. This year he is crude and angular.

Years ago, I'd fight him one on one. Sometimes it got ugly, we said things we regretted later. During one of our fights, I got worn out. I just kept quiet. I think I hit a nerve because after a while, he would want to talk things over. But you see, I got so good at building a wall around myself so I won't get emotionally drained, I kept on doing it. The only problem was keeping quiet made me boil inside. Each time we fight I ignored the feeling of seething anger within me.

I am now beyond anger. I just don't care! Today, while I write this journal, I feel a certain animosity towards him. A resentment leading to loss of love. Why do I stay in a relationship where emotional closeness is in intravenous tubes and physical intimacy is in a coma?

I dream of living again...

Missing the Sun

It's so cold today and it's not even winter. Why is it that when it's summer, I miss the cold and when it's fall or winter, I long for the sun? Am dumbfounded for a while there....We miss what we don't have for the moment! I am not complaining.

Now, where is Shamash, Baal, Isis and Rah? '-)

What makes you stronger?

When I was younger, I kept looking for something to fill a void in my soul. Somehow, that void is usually an imaginary feeling perceived by my lack of sense of well being. Whatever it was that changed my perception in life must have happened between being 20 thinking like 40 and being 40 but pining to be 20. I got bored being young, I rushed to grow up. I tried to plan for my future, but forgot about the present, so I lived in neither the present nor the future. I got distressed and agitated for something impending or anticipated, events that has yet to happen. Worry wore me down and scraped my bottom. When I turned 33, I stopped beating myself after a minor faux pas and refused to sweat the small stuff. Also, the hopeless romantic in me has exchanged her rose-tinted glasses for a grey-colored one. It took some getting used to. I've managed! ~heart bleeding~

The cliche "Happiness is a state of mind," is true. You just have to acknowledge the fact that accepting things as they are makes you happier and that desperately wishing for something that would never materialize is foolish.

What doesn't kill you makes you stronger.

One Day at a Time

About 3 years ago, my sister in law, Len, was diagnosed with stage 2 breast cancer and had mastectomy in her left breast. We thought that she was cured of that terrible C. She was 45 at the time. Last March, she informed us that her cancer metastesized to the lungs and abdomen. She is 48. She has cancer-stage 4. I felt stunned.

My father was a doctor. He told me that "once you lose your health, you lose everything." The quality of life along with it. I must be too young or too naive to even think about what it meant at that time. Words of wisdom are usually appreciated after 40.

I spoke to her and asked her how is she taking it? "One day at a time." She chuckled.

Life is precious. Life is short. And yes, to live life is beautiful.

I'll be damned!

The Catholic upbringing in me says, I should thank all the blessings that come my way. I was raised a Catholic, educated in a strict Catholic school. There was a time in my life that I could not even forgive myself if I missed mass, Sunday school or my evening prayer. I had to go to confession to get my penance. I've read the bible from cover to cover, I can say the mysteries of the rosary in a snap. At mass, I can even tell you what the priest is going to say even before he opens his mouth.

What happened? I guess I just asked too many questions.

I wonder? If my parents' religion had been Islam or Buddhist or Zen...then what? I didn't choose my religion, it was just there, handed down to me by my parents, as had been with my grandparents.

A friend of mine asked me if I believe in Jesus Christ as the son of God, my reply to her was, "No!" She was aghast! I told her that Christ of Faith is for the Christians and Jesus of History is more a probability.

"You'll be damned to hell!" She said with a straight face.

"Aren't we all?" I retorted.

The conversation did not end there. She tried to understand what, after all these years, made me denounce my faith and religion. To which I said, religion divides men. I'd like to think that I am more of a humanist, that's all.

I hate the subject of religion.

Cathartic Purging

What am I doing here? Isn't this supposed to be for the young 'ums? That was my first thought. But ever since I was in my teens, I always had a diary. I just could never figure out where I hid them. I love to write. --- For my sense of self worth...heehaw!

...and so...am doing this as a form of cathartic purging from the daily grinds of life. But do I have a life? Gees! I don't even have a sex life-period.

Lemme' see what this brings.

Hmmm....