Posted in Canada, Chocolate, Fibromyalgia, motivational

Seems Breakin’ Up Was Easier in the ’90s

It looks like you’re gettin’ over me,

faster than I’m gettin’ over you.

But hey, what you gonna do?

I’m sick of sittin’ in my brain,

sighin’ at my phone. 📱

Wishin’ I was somewhere I can’t be alone.

Try to let you go, but somethin’ always reminds me

Seems breakin’ up was easier in the ’90s.

I’m tired of gettin’ tired, tired of bein’ me.

Tired of makin’ excuses about how I wanna be.

You’re everywhere, everywhere but behind me.

Seems breakin’ up was easier in the ’90s.

Back then, I could’ve convinced myself

it was you and not me,

though I said it the other way round;

love lost and found.

Could have made myself believe,

I loved you, just wasn’t in love with you 💌

(realistically, it’s you and me?).

Just the thought of it makes me blue

Didn’t know then I couldn’t have

the bandwidth to deal with life

stress keeps cuttin’ at me

with an jagged online knife 🔪

Tryin’ to let you go, but somethin’ always reminds me

Seems breakin’ up was easier in the ’90s.

I’m tired of gettin’ tired, tired of bein’ me.

Tired of seein’ pictures in my brain, 🧠

I don’t wanna see.

You’re everywhere, everywhere but behind me

Seems breakin’ up was easier in the ’90s.

Modern love leads to modern hearts breakin’ 💔

Leads to a whole lot of social media fakin‘.

You’re everywhere, everywhere but behind me

Seems breakin’ up with myself with easier in the ’90s!

Thanks to Sam Hunt for the inspiration.

I’ve broken up with myself before, at least once or twice a decade, but it seems to get harder every decade. My most memorable break-ups were in the ’90s. It all seemed like a good idea then. 💡 No awkward, “It’s not you, it’s you” conversations. I was young and thought being in love with myself was more important that just loving myself, taking care of myself.

Every time I try to make it work, but we’ve grown apart. The relationship just isn’t working for me…and me. This time I find myself feeling resentment. I resent myself for getting in my way.

Maybe it was age. My stage in my journey. Or maybe it’s those darn rosy nostalgia goggles 🥽 and it just seems breakin’ up with easier in the ‘90s. Either way, I think it’s time to take our relationship to a previous level…

Sometimes you gotta stop reflecting (I’m turning into a mirror here 🪞) and take the BS by the horns; I’m doing a year of chronic change...

Step 1: Move. Done, but not terribly settled, though I’m cutting myself some slack on my (lack of) progress. I;ve been vividly reminded that Fibromyalgia is a thief. It steals your energy. -Pilfers your time. -Loots your stability. -Filches your confidence. -Snatches your pride. -Purloins your social life. -Robs you of your hopes and dreams. -Breaks and enters your life, tossing the place and adding chaos, fear, loss, and uncertainty to every moment of your day and night. Living with chronic conditions means you have to change your expectations, accommodate, modify, and most of all, adapt. I’m trying to be kind to myself.

And remind myself of all the good/great/amazing things I have as well. My family, friends, my blog/readers/fellow bloggers/authors https://yadadarcyyada.com/2021/05/21/how-i-met-your-author/, the ‘group’ I founded(?), “Chronic Not Hopeless” (all our Zoom activities are free, all are welcome, contact: chronicnothopeless@yahoo.com

https://yadadarcyyada.com/2021/01/30/chronic-not-hopeless/)…

Also, my happy places (on the page, in a screen, swimming in chocolate 🍫, chatting, laughing, in a cup of tea (or three). 🫖

Where else?

Happy on a gameboard or in the cards, among the trees 🌳, under the stars… ⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐⭐

And of course, the hopes and dreams the chronic suckage https://chronicnothopeless.ca/2021/01/17/chronic-suckage/ https://yadadarcyyada.com/2019/12/06/chronic-suckage/ hasn’t yet managed to rudely steal – writing a novel, learning to podcast, code, organizing (sorry, staying organized – oh I can organize, I can organize till the cows come home, it’s keeping the organization, that’s the kicker), getting better and so much more…        

Step 2: Break up with myself. I’ll start slow with the simple but elegant, “I just need some space”. Then add the tried and true, “It’s for the best” and of course, “You and I should stay friends”. 🤝

Follow up with the classic, “We’re both looking for different things” and “I’ve figured out, we’ll cover more ground if we split up”.

If tears flow, I’ll pivot to the gentler, “We’re at different stages in our lives” and pop in, “I really need to work on myself right now”.

If I want to add some levity to the tense break-up situation, I can toss in a cheeky, “Our relationship is like my financial status: broke” 💸; or “I feel like I’m moving into a tunnel cause we’re breaking up” 📵; and/or “They say one person’s trash is another one’s treasure, I hope you find a pirate to love you”. 🏴‍☠️

Still not there yet?

Who can go wrong with a classic Star Wars break-up line? “I think I should change my name to Han cause I need to do this Solo”.

End strong with, “You are going to make someone really happy someday”. The important thing is, be honest with myself, don’t sugar-coat it or ghost myself. 👻

Step 3: Rocky Road, Vodka Sangria, box of tissues, fluffy slippers, and emo movies…with “Say Something” playing softly in the background. Check. ✔️

Step 4: Write a blog post about it during my blog anniversary month – yes, I started emptying my brain into this blog in 2013!!! Wow! Thank you for joining me in the saga of my life! 🤗🤗🤗

Step 5: Write monthly update blog posts for the next year about my chronic change trip and other stuff that jumps into my brain. 🧠

Roses are red, 🥀

Violets are blue

You are dumped…

And so are you.

 

Posted in Books, Canada, Holidays, Uncategorized, Zombies

Who Loves Ya Baby?

1tidy4How many times
can you fall off
the planet before
you start to think,
hmmm, maybe I
need better
gravity boots.

My strange week began with me frenetically organizing and cleaning my house.

At first, I thought it was simply having finally read Marie Kondo’s book, the life-changing magic of tidying up: the Japanese art of decluttering and tidying. Though commonsense, it’s all been said and done, in various ways. It’s easy to declutter, you have less stuff that’s more organized. I should write a book. My house looks like a poor woman’s Martha Stewart, with fewer prison ponchos (it’s a good thing).

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Then came the gut punch, the calendar explained my sudden need to keep busy – a year ago my 30 year friendship stopped, just as my best friend’s heart had stopped https://yadadarcyyada.com/2015/02/06/goodbye-dearest-friend/ I wanted to do anything but think about my losses, all of them, before and after this one. I wanted to drown my sorrows in the bottom of a neatly folded and lined-up sock drawer. To gamble I could keep the traveling elastic bands and pens all in one place, just one more time.

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Even after everything was organized, sorted, recycled, and donated, my feelings of pain, loss, and fear still cluttered my house, heart, and mind. So I purged some of those feelings blocking me from respecting joy, hope, and love. I folded my memories into my life; if I keep hanging them, they’ll take up too much space in my emotional closet.

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We’re told we need to be smart, work smart, have smart things, but where is smart really getting us?

  • For example, if credit cards are so smart, why can’t they pay off their outstanding balances, huh?

  • If TVs are so smart, why do we have to spend so much time looking for something good to watch?

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  • Maybe we need smart pets that feed, groom, and even walk themselves.

  • I have a feeling if I got a smart fridge, I’d hear things like: “Are you here again, girl, get yourself a life!” or “What are you doing, Donna, this is highly irregular!”

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  • Why stop there? Smart coffee machines, ha, amateurs, how about smart coffee that changes itself from espresso to latte to whatever passes as coffee, depending on your mood.

  • Someday your smart car will hold you in contempt without a valid high IQ score.

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  • Smart wine that critiques itself so you can sound like a wine connoisseur, although then everyone will sound the same, so it will be just the wine talking.

  • Smart couches that tell us the best spot to park our caboose.

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War, depression, corruption, terrorism, anxiety, climate change, poverty, prejudice, ignorance, disease, political games, scams, abuse, addiction, melodrama, not to mention simultaneous epidemics of starvation and obesity – we don’t need a zombie apocalypse, we’re doing just fine on our own.

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We self-scan, aka us working for a store for free, while putting others out of work (and already over-paying), all the while supporting companies that destroy the environment, while using what amounts to slave labour. Really?

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And our complaints are many: my laptop is too heavy, there’s too much food in my house, my smartphone isn’t the latest model, my smartphone doesn’t have a long enough battery life, there’s too many movies/TV shows to stream/watch. I clearly have the wrong definition of ‘smart’.

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So I will try to be smarter.

I will thank my body for it’s hard work, especially my heart which has taken a lickin’ and keeps on tickin’.

I will commune with my mind, who has respectfully stayed with me through thick and thin.

Everything in its place and a place for everything…as long as it sparks joy.

Happy Valentine’s Day…Who loves ya, baby?

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