For my convenience.

I am going to air a grievance here.  I usually try to stay away from bitching about technology use but repeated events over the last few years have planted within me a desire to vent.

So here goes:

1.  I own a cellphone for my convenience, not yours.  If I do not answer it when you call the first time, I will likely not answer it when you call immediately back.  If you call back a third time in quick succession you, or someone I love, had better be on fire, dying, or in jail.  If not, when at any point in my life did I give you the impression that I am at your beck and call?

2.  I post on Facebook, Twitter, and my blog for my enjoyment/release/etc.  If you don’t like what you read, stop following me.  I have not taken a gun to your head and forced you to follow my feed.  Don’t send me sarcastic trolling messages bitching about how frequently I post, what I post about, etc.  Just block my shit if you don’t want to read it.  I am not tailoring my feed for your taste.

3.  Sometimes it takes me a few days to get back to you when you email, text, or call me.  If you are a true friend, this fact will make you happy. It means I am out in the world enjoying my life and not sitting at home by my computer and phone desperately wishing someone would call, text, or email me.  Be happy for me.

There. I’m done.

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Heartbreak, headache, and so much love.

This holiday season I have fought a constant battle against depression.  I am rapidly approaching the anniversary of my full hysterectomy and the symbolic end of my fertility.  Every day I see children and feel an ache in my arms.  I used to hold babies, rock them, carry them, feed them, now my babies are big.  My arms feel the loss exquisitely.

It is also my first holiday without Lee in ten years.  I miss him in everything I do.

When my head is not trying to destroy me, I feel pretty upbeat.  I get so much love and support from my children, my parents, and my friends that my spirits lift in spite of myself.

When my headaches return, so does the darkness.  I find myself crawling deep into my body, unaware of the world outside, unable to feel the warm rays of love and affections those around me send my way.

So I am trying to throw myself into the glittering spirit of the holidays, to feel my children’s excitement as my own.  I am trying to make lovely and useful gifts for my family, or buy pretty things with my small store.  I am trying.

I am trying because my son is so excited to make things with me, bake cookies, decorate the tree, snuggle down before the fire and sing carols.  I am trying because my daughter is watching me, taking her cues from me, trying to see it’s okay to be happy this Christmas, despite of the heartbreaking year behind us.

I am trying because I am so tired of being the unhealthy and unhappy friend.  I am tired of being sad. I am tired of being sick.  I want to be the one helping someone else.

This Christmas I want health and love.  I want smiles and laughter and more hugs than anyone can imagine.  I don’t want presents, I want time.  I want time walking with you, seeing movies with you, talking with you.  I want time reconnecting.  I want to be out of the house and doing things with people.  If my head hurts too much for that, then I want people here with me.

I love you all, and I am trying.