It’s Okay If Our Yard Has A Few Weeds
*Warning: The following may be too mushy, whiny, triggering, and/or simply Too Much Information (TMI) for some of you. Oh, and it’s rambling, stream of conscious crap. Don’t say you weren’t warned, because this, well, um, is exactly that.
Yesterday was not a good day for me. It was a rainy day. That would be enough. I don’t know if or how they actually test people for it, but I am sure that I have seasonal affective disorder, or as I like to call it – seasonal defective disorder. And rain makes me sad. Please don’t be one of those people who feels compelled to tell me how much you like the rain. I get all of that “without rain the flowers wouldn’t grow, without pain the joy in life won’t show” crap. Hell, I sang that in church summer camp in the White Mountains of New Hampshire as a teen. I get it. But the rain started my slump.
I took puppy Fiji for a walk when the rain subsided for a bit. That usually cheers me up. But all I could think about was how much my body hurts. Every single day I am in pain from my knees to my neck. The pain may shift sometimes, the knees today, the neck tomorrow. But I really can’t remember the last day I was not in pain. Today, I should be at my friend Mike’s house, either biking or kayaking along the Potomac. I should be training to go on a bigger bike adventure with my brother Mike. Quick tangent – it bothered me just now that they are both named Mike because it doesn’t make this paragraph flow well, but I also didn’t want to change their names. That’s the kind of mind-fuck I do to myself when I am sad and overthinking things. I have tried to get back in better shape a handful of times over the last six months, but each time I end up injuring myself. I thought maybe I was pushing the workouts too hard. This last time, I tried chair yoga for seniors for just fifteen minutes. That should be ridiculously easy, right? But I woke up the next day in worse pain. I know. I am making an appointment with my doctor. But that isn’t the point of this piece.
The rain. The pain. It all got me going on a roller coaster of self-pity. I felt lonely. I have my girls every other week and during those weeks my life is sublime. See, I’m not good and healthy when I am alone. That’s what I talk to my therapist about. Next appointment is tomorrow. Phew. When I am alone too long, it gives me time to think. And when I think too much, the three voices in my head drive me crazy and lead me to self-loathing, worrying, and overthinking everything. I hyper focus on the bad stuff. And yet, somehow, I made the worst decision possible yesterday. For only the third time since I retired more than a year ago, I decided not to do any work. I didn’t write. I didn’t go to the gym. I tried to convince myself that I had every right to take the day off. I am retired. I have earned it. I watched a movie with Fiji called Madame Web. Meh. It was okay, but I thought the ending was stupid. It is Fiji’s fault. She picked it. I paused it three times to see if there was anything in the fridge to eat, which is unusual because the only time I eat is at dinner. That’s a different story. I never found anything in the fridge. I only have food in there when the girls are here.
After the movie, I feel like I looked at the clock 30 or 40 times the rest of the day wondering why it was taking so long to end. I was trying to remember some saying about the days are long, but the years go by versus the day fly by, but the years are long. One is supposed to be good and the other not. I didn’t feel like Googling it to find out. I made the mistake of texting an old friend about my loneliness. I got well intended feedback and advice, but I just wanted to vent. I didn’t want advice. My fault. I have always heard that men make the mistake of giving women advice when all they want is to be heard. I feel the same way. Maybe it’s not a gender thing. Or maybe I am in touch with my feminine side. See, there I go again, overthinking. Anyway, the well-intended advice actually just made me feel worse. My fault. I invited someone to my pity party.
On top of those issues, my phone broke. I went to the Verizon store, but they just gave me a phone number to call for a replacement. Um, my phone is broke, asshole. He wasn’t an asshole, but that’s how I felt in the moment. Or I just felt like saying it because I liked the sound of it. But I didn’t say it. I just asked to borrow his phone. He let me use his phone. It rang. And rang. And then I heard this automated reply, “we are experiencing unusually high volume of calls. Please call back later.” Not, here is where you are in the cue, or leave a message. Shitheads.
Okay, enough whining. You get the point. So, here is a game I play in my head almost every day of my life. And if you feel like leaving a reply, this is the one part I would really like to hear about if any of you do this. I whine about shit that’s not perfect. And then I get mad at myself for whining. It’s a twisted catch-22 that keeps replaying in my head like Groundhog Day (the movie not the rodent). I should either vent and enjoy it or shut up and keep looking on the bright side of life (I think that’s a song). But no, I am Dan, the overthinker. So, I gripe, beat myself up for griping, gripe, beat myself up….
Today is a new day. I am writing (working). It is not raining. I see on social media posts about friends who have much more serious health issues. Yesterday, I beat myself up for my self-pity. Today, I am reminded that the grass is not always greener, but at the same time, I am human, and have the right to have a bad day and an occasional pity party. It’s all good. While drinking my morning coffee with Fiji (do I talk about Fiji too much?), I saw a friend post a picture of this 1970’s Mattel hand-held video football game. I had one. I played for hours and hours on that thing. I went through batteries like nobody’s business. It struck me that not once did I have ever stop and think, gee Dan, maybe you are spending too much time on this hand-held device? But today, if I spend more than ten minutes on my phone on Facebook, I start to chastise myself.
And that brings me to a quick side rant – every day you see and hear people talking about everyone being on their devices too much. Growing up in an era that did not have smart phones, nobody ever gave others crap for reading the newspaper, listening to music, playing a card game, looking through a photo album, watching cartoons, looking up recipes, paying bills… the list is endless. But now that we do all of those things conveniently in the palm of our hands, it is a sin. C’mon already. By the way, one of you right now is thinking it’s not the same thing and we need to connect with other humans more and this is brainwashing our children… you may be right. But save it. I don’t need another thing to beat myself up about.
Where was I? Oh ya. Today is a new day. Today is a mentally healthy day. I know the grass is not always greener. I have always known it. That’s why I stole the idea for my book title, cultivate your garden, from Voltaire. We don’t need someone else’s grass. We just need to cultivate our own. My grass was rained on yesterday. It had a few weeds. Today, I will mow it. I am going to the gym now. I can’t handle the idea of having to tell my therapist that I didn’t. And this evening, I am going out for a steak dinner with a kind, thoughtful, engaging, and beautiful woman. Life is good.
Those of you who know me well or have read enough of my stuff have seen that for the most part, I am sharing amazing blessings, and sometimes I feel compelled to ground myself and share my humble imperfections as I wear my heart on my very public sleeve.
Do you think that is strange? Then “friend me” on Facebook and see how each Friday I give a weekly award to one of my 57 different plants with a little background on their individual personalities, likes and dislikes. Now that is strange.
You’re not alone. I’m not alone. Peace.
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PS. This was 24 hours in my personal life. Same stuff happens to all of us at work. You got this.
PPS. I was just about to post this when I got a text from the same friend who gave me advice yesterday. The text read “Have a beautiful day today, full of light, and amazing things.” Perfect. That’s all I need to hear. I’m on it.
Stoneking Strategic Communications (SSC) 