Thursday, February 28, 2013

Perpetual Quarter


I showed D how to spin a quarter the other day. She thought I was made of magic for the rest of the day. Yes, I completely used that to get her to eat her vegetables that night and pick up her umpteen million toys. Parenting win!

Sometimes I look around from the minutia of the daily grind and wonder: How in the holy hell did I get here? I've often asked that question, but pre-D it was generally asked after a night I wouldn't remember but had thoroughly enjoyed. But how did I get here? 

That's easy. I moved my home, gained a husband, had a baby and a miscarriage all in one year. And then, not so unexpectedly, then I had depression. 

So, I wrote. And I wrote and wrote, and wrote some fucking more. Because my brain was a mess. Because I couldn't breathe from the isolation of being home alone all day just to be alone at night. Because typing out my words made me feel...not so alone. Even if no one ever read them but me, at least they existed. They were proof I existed. It's easy to forget that when the only person you talk to for days on end is an infant with the vocabulary of a cat in heat. That is to say, all screams.

And in that writing I discovered quite a bit. 1) I loved writing. 2) I was a fucking smartass and I liked it that way. 3) The confidence to quit giving one flying turd about what anyone else thought.

Put all that in a blender, toss in some time, a degree, a metric fuck-ton of hard work, a pretty great husband and one really rambunctious dog and you get: me. An actual, no-shit, writer. Who ran off and started her own content generation company that is actually growing and thriving and expanding beyond the dreams that she never even dared have.

I won't always say life is good. Sometimes life hands you shit and you have to keep your eyes on the prize. Sometimes the prize is just making through the day so you can say, "Well..fucked that day up right to hell. At least tomorrow is another chance to get it right".

But, most of the time this life of mine that resounds so loudly is like a carefully spun quarter: teetering, balancing, swaying from awesomeness to pain, but always spinning and moving and making me grateful.