The Shit that Wants to Bury Us

Image result for feeling buried

I saw a reference to “don’t let the shit bury you” and I thought, “Wow. What a great writing prompt.” So, I don’t really know where to start. I love making lists so that’s as good a place as any.

  1. Am I fulfilled working as a LuLaRoe Consultant? (Not entirely. I don’t like doing anything consistently and I hate online sales.)
  2. What about getting your Real Estate license? (Maybe, but would I really be doing it for me, the long term happiness of me? Or… would I be doing it because I like to begin and create new things? And what about the realtor I just worked for? She ended up being a big jerk. Am I wanting to do this to prove I can be better than her?)
  3. We just adopted a 16.5 year old cat out of a crappy situation. Shadow, and the other 3 cats kind of hate each other. He also has ear cancer. I hope he dies in his sleep because the thought of having to see him suffer, or put him down, breaks me.
  4. I’m carrying around about 85lbs of extra weight. I hate to exercise. I. MUST. CHANGE. MY. THOUGHTS. AROUND. EXERCISE.
  5. All of my friends have families. Children. I don’t by choice. Up until very, very recently I used to think of my friends as family, since mine isn’t that big, and definitely not that close. It’s hard to discover that they’re at the top of your priority list and you’re at that bottom of theirs. I feel lonely.
  6. I started a pet sitting business by accident. What the fuck do I do now? Is this going to fulfill me and make me happy long term?
  7. I’m not sleeping. Again. I’m so fucking tired of this. Why can’t I just be normal?

So. How do I not let this shit bury me? I keep a shovel handy. I breathe. I put one foot in front of the other, in front of the other, until I’ve made it through a bad day. Luckily, the good outweighs the bad. Every night I say 3 or more things out loud that I’m thankful for. I pray. I pet my cats and love the fur off of them. I watch trashy tv and eat too much junk. I consciously consume water. I talk to the people I love regularly. I tell them I love them every chance I get. I lean on my husband. I let my love for him flow over me like fresh, clean water after a long days work. And I continue. I breathe. I put one foot in front of the other, in front of the other, until I’ve made it through another bad day. Each new day is a new opportunity. I choose each morning not to let the shit bury me.




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