One of my gifts is a good sense of humor. I’m quick witted, and am told it takes intelligence to pull that off well. I don’t claim any kudos for that. I was born that way, so it’s natural for me…or used to be. I jokingly say, though, that if I come back to this world again, I want a smaller IQ and a bigger breast size. Then I will never be alone. Intelligent, strong women have a harder time of it, I’m convinced. So the “next” me should exist in ignorant bliss.
And don’t assume for a minute that I’m not a women’s rights champion. I am. But I live in a world rapidly sliding backwards into women being nothing but objects. And I vehemently rebel against that. I am comfortable standing toe to toe with any smart guy. And I might beat them at golf too. And I dare them to think of me as nothing but an orifice. But once you lose sex appeal, you have no value. Sorry: True. That’s okay with me, by the way. I’m done with trying to make men feel good about themselves. That shouldn’t be my job.
Intelligence may have its advantages. I’ve enjoyed being intelligent, being in the upper echelon of intelligence as they say. I’ve had insights many people miss, and I’ve stumped a lot of ‘bright’ people. Out of curiosity, I ask questions which to me are just clarifying questions, and I get the blank stare back. And I often hear, “Nobody’s ever asked that before”. Well okay. But the flip side is that in the girlfriend world, things I want to talk about are definitely NOT the usual girl gathering topics of conversation. I guess I’m a misfit. My favorite topics are golf and the stock market. Well there you go.
I awoke this morning at about 2 am, which happens a lot, due to stress, and the first thought I realized was, “I miss laughing”. I used to laugh all the time. ALL the time. Sometimes that first thought, which in my case rushes through my consciousness, gives heavy insight into my condition, or things I need to work on, or what’s really at the root of issues. So I pay attention. I know laughter is the “best medicine”; and maybe it’s not the laughter itself, but the circumstance under which it happens, that makes it important.
Thrown Away Wives often end up very alone. We end up alone because our husbands throw us away and our family abandons us. Well remember, I told you about that ten year statute of limitations on that abandonment, so we’ll see. In four years maybe my “family” will come back. What remains to be seen is whether I will want them back. What do you think? Would you want people in your life who abandon you when you are most broken? Seems like a no-brainer to me. Andddd there’s the thinking again. A lower IQ person would just rush back in. Me? I have to think about that. And the answer is no. Forgive? Yes. Hang out? Nope.
I am a real estate agent, so I am around people all the time, and I attend my church regularly, so I am around thousands of people, regularly, in that venue. But in the grand scheme of things, I am alone in the universe. Feels like I am loosely tethered, but never engaged. That’s a terrible feeling, and it wakes me up at 1, 2, 3 in the morning, sometimes in the midst of a panic. Your subconscious mind works all the time and it’s undeniable that mine works HARD. Sometimes those 2am thoughts come through as shouts, sometimes just a comment (not voices in my head, but thoughts…relax); but I’ve said before, many times, that I am determined to survive this situation into which I was thrown. So my subconscious has its marching orders. Work this out; solve this problem. And it gives me things to write about, to share with you. If I don’t know anything else, I know there are hundreds, if not thousands of you, who can relate.
It’s the venue for laughter that makes it the best medicine, because in order for it to happen, there have to be others around and you have to be engaged, plugged in. In other words laughing at a TV show doesn’t count. The key is the ‘gathering’ part. When you are tossed out of your life and things familiar to you at senior part of life, it’s just harder to reinvent that wheel. And at the time of life when you should be retiring, your need to clump with others goes down. It’s a conundrum. Sometimes it’s just easier to go to bed early, you see? I’m chuckling. Life is never dull.
So…I find myself becoming more and more isolated, in spite of the fact that I know I need to be around people with whom I can engage. Prolonged depression or sadness, takes a lot out of you in terms of energy to reach out. That’s not good. So my next task is to make a plan, set a goal, to reach out and get together with people at least once a week. Lunch with a friend, invite a friend to dinner, things like that. And I’m already thinking that once a week might be too much.
See what I mean?
See you soon…