At Least They're Committed

“You’re motivated and ready to fly, yet you continuously feel that your wings have been clipped and you’re grounded.”

That’s my horoscope for August. I’m struggling to overcome the deeply embedded feelings of inadequacy thanks to overlooking the missing ‘t’ in ‘stroke’ in a headline in the mag. I’d already resigned, didn’t want to leave them in the lurch, so thought I’d buck up and do one final edition. Bad idea. In my defense, I’d read every inch of that magazine from initial edits to second proof (I never got a third proof, which I should have) and my brain had it memorized; saw what it wanted to see. . . not really sure if that’s a defense, come to think of it. Either way, I’d like to point out to the court that I also was given limited time to proof the edition. Overnight the first time; a couple of hours while I was at work the second. As the editions went on throughout the past year, I was given less and less time to peruse the small details.

There. I said it, it’s over. So now can I just let it go? Let us hope so. I’ve got real work to do. Work I want to do. I shouldn’t have put ‘still’ in the tweet. I should have simply said “I love @rawvoice” period . . . I do. No ‘still’ about it unless you’re counting the one I have stashed in the basement.

“This month is a study in contrasts.” Fitting. Contorting, morphing, shape shifting, twisting, always. My mind constantly at work, my persona always at peril. The only time my brain isn’t in overdrive is when I’m drunk . . . and then it’s pretty much not there at all. Kevin told me to try to work out the next crisis by myself. Don’t think we knew the ‘next crisis’ would be this soon or this severe. But it doesn’t matter. I’m working on it. “On a scale of one to 10, with 10 being the most critical of my clients,” he said. “You’re a zero.” We laughed. I’m extremely ‘alert’ is the way he put it. There’s danger in that. But mostly there’s fatigue. Someone likened it once to when Jesus was walking with a crowd and suddenly stopped because, although they were all walking together, people at his shoulder, to the left, right and behind, he felt one person touch his robe. It’s the “Lord I am not worthy to receive you, but only say the word and I shall be healed” passage.  Alert.

“August is the ballroom where this dance of expansion and contraction can impact your life in many different areas.” Kind of makes you picture ebony corsets, blood-red velvet gowns, cat masks, feathers and men with black coats and ruffled shirts twirling dangerously close to a huge, glowing pit in the center of the floor with fiery coals leading to the tormented souls and torturous flames of hell, huh?

I’m working it out and my family and friends have been greatly patient. My immediate family sees the lost, panicked look that darkens my eyes and drags me, often literally, away from it and onto something else (such as the jousting at the Renaissance Festival). D grabbing me and hugging me when I took a step back for seemingly no reason, knowing I was struck by a thought. Dante yelling “Cheat to win!” and nudging me to ensure I did the same. Darian spontaneously coming up from behind and wrapping his long arms around me. Lily saying, “Oh, fuck them!” Texting with Caitlin about our vow to cut back; getting a “soooo happy to get together” text from Tonya last night; Brian’s tweet reminding me that @rawvoice still loves me . . . Thanks, thanks, thanks to all!

My life has far more successes than failures. My life has far more successes than failures. My life has far more successes than failures. My life has far more successes than failures. It’s not like I don’t know it; now if only I could shrug things off and truly feel it. I simply have to give myself time and be grateful to those around me who are able to, too.