SLAM! BAM! Snap out of it

I have tried to write a post for months. Months. I couldn’t do it. It’s not that I had no words, but did I really want to go on an on about losing a parent, losing all my hair, my job being outsourced back to Alabama and going from 4 little pills to 18 a day? Really, how much sunshine can one really dwell upon in one little post or two?

It’s not as if I am oblivious to other people’s grief or suffering or somehow think mine outweighs theirs (ok, maybe for a while I thought that) but I didn’t even have peace at work. I was constantly being henpecked and dodging complaints about my attitude and to be nicer to a person who always wants to “help.” Mother, smother, intrude, suffocate, overstep, but let’s call it help. So, thus I avoided blogging and kept all this light and sunshine in my head.

As if to send a not so gentle reminder I just need to get on with the business of living, every time I went to the ladies room, the door hinge doesn’t work. It goes BAM! SLAM! The whole first floor knows where you are. You hear enough of those (like three-five) five times a week, I decided maybe it was a call to action to get out of this miserable pity party and remember a few good things. Hair grows back. (It’s taking a really long time, but it does grow back. I no longer look like Kojak’s freak halfsister, it’s at least a full head without any patches.

My dad is gone. Even though other people are lucky enough to still have their dads, I would not want anyone else but the father I had, even though the loss and separation has been terrible. I have supportive friends and family in person and online and the best poodle on earth.

I am trying to manage and navigate all of the above with the seizure disorder and Aspergers. I learn more about Aspergers all the time and have a lot of as Oprah would say, ah-ha moments. I always knew something was wrong, it just didn’t get a label until a couple of years ago. Raise your hand if you come from a self-diagnosing don’t talk about it because it will go away Latin family. I feel ya.

More later. The door has to slam again before I go home.


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