Constipation and Happiness

Here is my situation: I am bloated, tired, stressed, and over it. But remarkably happy about it.

Let’s break it down (now I have Justin Timberlake singing that in my head)

BLOATED

I am sick and tired of having this bloated pooch for a mid section of my body. I wish I was one of those divided flip books where you could just choose your legs, middle, and head. The reason I am bloated is possibly because I have been eating some dairy, bread, and sugar. And whisky. Consuming these items while in a fight or flight mode just puffs me all up like a puffer fish trying to protect itself. And I get grumpy. Then all the people who live with you get scared and also seek out comfort from ice cream and before you know it everyone is constipated and then the toilets all stop up. And it costs you $350 for the plumber to come out on a Friday evening emergency call to fix it.

I am working out, convincing myself I am eating well, and am generally happy. (Thanks, Zoloft and Wellbutrin!) I mean, I actually do have my shit together, all things considered. My shit is so together, I’m constipated. Alas, my senna laxatives can only do so much. I guess I just have to zen out before I can get my flat stomach back.

TIRED

I don’t sleep as much or as well as I would like. We need a new mattress, I get hot in the middle of the night, my husband and shiz tzu both snore, and one of the cats likes to come talk to me in the middle of the night.

I am a fan of naps.

STRESSED

The past month has been a wee bit hectic. First, my daughter graduated from high school. Big deal. And a couple of days after that we went to a freshman and family orientation at the school she is going to in Atlanta this fall. I am not prepared for her to leave yet. It’s like knowing you are gonna lose your arm in September and you’re just supposed to be happy because it’s what is best for the arm.

The next week my mother had her heart shocked back into rhythm because she has afib that won’t calm down. She had an allergic reaction to the anesthesia and puffed up so much she could barely see and broke out in hives. But at least her heart was in rhythm for a full 48 hours. Then it went back to improvising and it took several days for the doctor to get it under control. My mom lives with heart disease and it involves three different issues, none of which are fun and exciting. So, she could just die suddenly. But so far, she has been polite enough to not drop dead. I really appreciate that.

The week after that my husband left to do Race Across America, a bicycle race from California to Maryland. He and his team did it in six days, and raised over $300,000 for cancer research. He raced through 124 degree heat, wildfires, climbed over 11,000 feet, dodged coyotes and wild dogs, did not sleep much, and stayed alive. Sometimes I wasn’t sure if he was alive because there was not any phone service where they were. The kids and I drove up to meet him at the finish line in Annapolis. It was amazing and the hardest most bad ass thing he has ever done. Except maybe staying married to me.

The morning that my husband left for California, my dearest friend since age six died suddenly. I am dealing with this alone. My husband is gone and my teenagers are being teens. Preparing a eulogy for a lifetime of friendship and saying goodbye sucks ass. And makes you sad and mad and lonely and happy for what you shared all at the same time.

OVER IT

As I come back home to clean up dog and cat hair and the never ending issues of owning an old house, I just want some peace and calm.

Then somebody decides to fuck with me. This somebody doesn’t know me very well. I let somebody know in no uncertain terms what I think of the particular situation we are in. Somebody is a jerk face and has no idea they are a jerk face and I’m not having it. It feels really good to not give a fuck about some situations or some peoples fragile and high opinion of themselves. And still not lose your shit and just be matter of fact about it all.

I feel like I’m really doing Carrie Fisher proud.

HAPPY

I am all of these things but still gloriously happy, mainly because I have been in therapy for 35 years and have a perfect balance of medication. But I’m gonna give me some good old fashioned credit for just sticking it out in life this long.

I know that all of this will pass. I have survived 52 years in this world and I keep getting better at dealing with it all. I have known deep love and amazing friendships, the privilege of aging, and the joy of my own little family growing up together.

Life is much like my husband’s Race Across America. You really don’t know what you are getting yourself into. You might die of exhaustion, sleep deprivation, or be eaten by coyotes. But you will see the most glorious sights, climb the highest mountains, make the best friends and most amazing memories. And at the end of it, you will be greeted by love and joy at the finish line.

After, you will go get ice cream with your family to celebrate. Even if it bloats you.