My daughter tells me this is the year of the horse.
It bucks like a stallion, it throws you off, it does what it wants.
I don’t like it. I want the year of the sloth. I want things to get good and then just stay that way; that happy little lazy sloth just moving slowly and predictably. It’s been such an odd 12 to 15 months; so hard.
M’s mother became ill cancer, M had to travel back and forth to the UK to visit (jacking up a credit card but what can you do??) our cat died, then M’s mother died (after the cat), he was thrown into a state of sadness and anxiety that was just getting better when our beloved German Shepherd died a few weeks ago – M’s “baby girl” and things just keep changing and they won’t stop. His anxiety just gets worse and I have to carry the load.
Yesterday, to pay off the credit card, we sold his truck. I have lost my shit many times over the past year and half, but just briefly. Just enough to let a little grief out but accepted that everything is OK and I can get M through it. But the truck. Damn. We didn’t need it, we never drove it, but he loved it. He would fly around in that thing with his Johnny Cash music playing (yes, he’s a Brit who loved Cash) and his beautiful dog hanging out the back window.
And so the sadness crept over me. Everything feels wrong. I can’t even look at the dog’s picture yet and I miss the truck.
I have to get him through this and I don’t know how. I want my man back. But I really only know one way – and that’s to keep chugging forward, every day.
And now – now I’ve lost a little bit of the extra weight but everything seems to have settled on my face and I look old.