Working On A Quirky Graph

Life is a series of moments. There are some that have plotted and planned their lives so there are no surprises, nothing out of place, every moment either just so or ignored as it doesn’t fit the narrative they have constructed for themselves. There are others that have an idea, a grand scheme they are using as a guideline for their long term goals, allowing life to happen but never taking their eyes off the prize. There are still others that float along on the breeze of their daily twists and turns. Allowing different circumstances to direct the next movements, and yet often still ending up in the places they had planned to go.

Then there are all the rest in between. People fighting to maintain their trajectory despite their circumstances, those that are resigned to the situations they’ve been put in and those who are still trying to determine what their path is.

I’ve never been a good planner. It really isn’t one of my strengths. I’ve taken bits and pieces of tools I’ve acquired throughout the years to effectively deal with my adhd to try and be better at making a plan, putting together a series of effective events that will help propel me into whatever the next level is, realizing that as I haven’t defined what I want the next level should be it will be almost impossible to get there.

My life has been a collection of, ‘I don’t want that to happen to me, so avoid those things,’ or ‘that would be nice, how do I make that happen?’ Years and years have gone by to make me realize that while this isn’t the most effective way to live my life, it is the path I have set myself on and I need to pay more attention to the signposts to make sure the decisions I make are not just reactionary. The harder part is actually recognizing the signposts for what they are and not making more or less of them.

Some things are beyond my control. I can no more control the weather, than I can control some of my impulses without the necessary medication to help me not eat an entire box of ice cream snickers. But learned behavior helps me understand that if I don’t want to fall in that trap, I don’t buy the box and bypass the temptation. The medication, currently, just helps me not want to eat at all. The medication doesn’t help me want to go for walks in the cold, and it doesn’t help me want to life weights outside of my time with my trainer, but it is all a work in progress.

This week has been trying on my mental health. The weather is getting cooler, which in the past would be a boon. Being a 100lbs heavier, I had all sorts of natural insulation to help me deal with cooler temps both inside and out. While I’m not skin and bones, I am having a lot more difficulty now controlling my body temperature. I find I’m often cold, layering, wearing socks inside, under blankets on calls and went so far to purchase a small room heater I’m taking with me to each room like a security blanket.

Worry about financial stability in the upcoming year has driven me to take on some contract work to help pay down all the work I had to do to the house this summer. I’m also looking at how best to budget for the winter, I’ve been stocking up on soups and broths, but need to look at stocking up on sweet potatoes that I can mash up and eat smaller portions of just for the carbs.

These signposts have been appearing to me as larger blaring signs, warnings that changes need to be made so that I can survive the uncertainty. Grasp the small grasses keeping me tethered to this space, and not let my fears spiral me out of control. It never ceases to amaze me how easy it is to show a smile and quick wit to the outliers of my life so they are not concerned about my struggle, and how they jump on that reassurance and move to their concerns. We are all worried about our paths, worried about our footprints and if our loved ones are navigating the dark the same or better than we are.

Then today I went to a funeral. I didn’t have the battery to go to the visitation last night, couldn’t fathom standing around people I didn’t know or hadn’t seen in years to express our grief and disbelief over and over again. The celebration of life today seemed easier somehow. Sit in a pew, listen to their loved ones talk about the their irrevocable sense of humor, goofiness and immense love wasn’t a hard task. It wasn’t a challenge to get out there and listen to others views of how they lived their life.

Except, I had difficulty finding something appropriate to wear. I haven’t purchased new clothes to fit this smaller shape and have donated quite a bit of the old stuff, which wouldn’t have worked regardless. Finally, after crazed cloth throwing, and more cursing than I should admit to, I finally found a pair of pants that worked, a shirt and sweater I could wear without embarrassing myself. The only drawback was the zipper wouldn’t stay all the way up. Stomping through my rooms, I looked in vain for a belt I swore I had that would help me keep the pants up just a bit higher, perhaps taking the pressure of the zipper to hold the whole charade up, keeping me shrouded in dignity and somber reflection instead of the blind anxiety that I would stand from the pew and moon the rows behind me.

The belt was never found. Even after coming home I still don’t know where the darn thing is. I ended up a few minutes late, stuck behind a train, anxiety and resolution warring with each other to keep my brain in some sort of forward motion, frustrated that looking for something I never ended up finding kept me from arriving on time. My late arrival wasn’t noticed against the fiery tirade from the pulpit about acceptance of god’s will.

And I spent the next couple of hours trying to subtly hold my pants together at a funeral, wondering the whole time about my friend’s path that ended so abruptly, and mine with seemingly no specific destination.