Some Days are Bad

As I sit here trying to remember the last time I felt this way I can honestly say I don’t remember how long it’s been.  Knowing my state of mind right now I would say that’s a good thing.

We can all agree that some days are better than others.  Sometimes we just shrug off the little irritations and easily move on.  Other days it might be a bit more hard but we don’t fall into deep despair.  For whatever reason we just don’t.  If  I knew the reason that we didn’t fall deep I would write and talk and even scream it from the rooftops so that I could save everyone who ever thought of leaving this world.  But the truth is no one knows the answer because there IS no answer.  The simplest sensitivity can spiral so far out of control that contemplating self destruction appears to be the only answer.  It’s obviously not but it FEELS that way.  It truly does.  And I’m here to tell you that all of the things that you are supposed to tell yourself don’t work:  “This too shall pass”, “give it to God”, “change the way you think about the situation”.  In fact self dialogue can be detrimental to your health.  Seriously, at this point YOU should NOT be having a conversation by yourself about your problems.  You can inflict a pain so excruciating that it may difficult if not impossible to turn back.  And now you know what happens to some people and why they leave us.

Many people don’t understand what it’s like to be so low that you don’t see way of getting back up.  The light at the end of the tunnel is so dim and that tunnel keeps getting longer and longer until the only vision you have is complete darkness.  It’s easy for certain people to judge and tell us that they would never contemplate ending their life.  Good for you, but that has absolutely no bearing on someone who does, and you saying that doesn’t make them feel better, often times only worse.

I’m not killing myself.  I never want to get myself into that kind of predicament again.  I was there, twice.  The view from the hell that you’re living in is so painful that you become numb to most of the precious things the world has to offer.  Music no longer changes your soul.  Humor evolves into blah blah blah, make it stop.  You morph into this human in a makeshift cocoon-like state, wondering endlessly around like a blind animal.

Some days are bad.  Today was bad.  One of the worst.  However I’m still here, writing my blog and coming to terms with my feelings.  I’m alone and that’s good.  Well I’m not really alone, I’ve got Florence and the Machine.  Today we identify.  Now if you don’t mind I’m gonna go pull the earth around me.  Please enjoy:






Why does music change me?

Music has always been a life changer for me.  I can remember growing up listening to songs on the radio and feeling a certain way.  Good or bad it didn’t matter, I just felt SOMETHING.  I mostly identified with sad, sappy songs.  Probably because I was sad and sappy and it felt like somebody was just like me, and that was comforting knowing that I wasn’t alone.

Being alone as I get older feels somewhat comforting and at times is exactly what I need to just decompress.  I’m finding that I need to decompress more and more as I get older.  Maybe I just need to get away from people, maybe I just enjoy being with myself, I’m not sure.  But when I’m just with myself I have a lot of time to think about me.  That’s not always a good thing.  I’m my own worst enemy.  I’m sure that’s true with a lot of people, we are all just generally hard on ourselves.

It’s been a long while since I’ve written and this post isn’t gonna be my best so I’m just gonna stop writing and leave you with this song:


Identity Crisis

How many times have you had the opportunity in your life to take a break from reality?  I would guess that most would say never.  I mean that aside from a weekend getaway here and there, I pretty much kept going with my day-to-day activities through quite a few road blocks and dead ends.  The 6 1/2 year winding road of my most recent job had its highs and lows, for sure.  I kind of “happened” into this job and I’m proud to say that I made it my own.  I enjoyed taking on greater responsibilities and leadership, and I found myself using the authority I had to gauge my own happiness.  If I succeeded with stressful day to day activities I became proud with my abilities.  If I failed, especially when I hired employees who turned out to be a shocking disappointment, I took the defeat hard.  Toward the end of my employment, I was defeated not only with employees but with general activities, though no fault of my own.  I became disconcerted with the direction I was going and morally defeated.

Fast forward to today.  I’ve been extremely lucky enough to have the ability to take a step back and have a good look at my wants, needs and desires in this new life.  Don’t get me wrong, I will not be able to drag my feet and continue to search for my identity for a long length of time. The clock is ticking, but there are no alarms set at this time.  I wake up every morning realizing this, and every single day my personal search for my true identity plays over and over in my mind.

Initially I started out in a bad place.  I judged myself, I judged others and I became withdrawn and closed off to my family.   Even when I thought that I was handling everything okay, my head and my gut told me otherwise.  I can honestly say that I don’t like to let anyone into this dark place with me, so I don’t get the help that I probably need.  I do it on my own, my way, my time.  I’ve expressed hints of complications that my brain is trying to wrap itself around to a few, but I inevitably continue to blow off suggestions and concern.  It’s my process.

Personally I’ve struggled with close relationships, if you regularly read my blog you know that.  I’ve never really encountered such problems with my work though.  At my age and with all the world has going on right now, you’ve got to be ready for just about anything.  I’ve stalled but I haven’t completely faltered.

I would like to say that my compass is working properly, but that’s not necessarily true just yet.  But it’s in my hands, and the direction I go will hopefully be an exciting adventure.

Please take a moment to listen to this oldie but goodie.  I heard it yesterday driving Grae to school and I can’t stop wanting to listen to it.  If you listen to the words, twist them around a little bit, you’ll feel my mental status at this point.



Nothing Is Forever

I was listening to this song this morning, and couldn’t help but relate to some of the lyrics.  Never mind the fact that this particular song in one of my all time favorites. It has a good sway but when you listen to the lyrics, it’s so much more than just “a song”.

This morning the words, “nothing is forever” struck a chord with me.  I’m going to start today and hopefully the rest of my days with this mind set and mentality.  I might even scratch off a bucket list item by inking those words into my skin.  If you think long and hard about it, you can almost say these three words about probably everything in life.  Think about it:

-Your health, being pain free or the opposite

-Your marriage, for better or worse

-The status of your job, today…

-Your small or large bank account

-Your friends and relationships

-Our country and its leaders

I could get into intricacies, but I think you get the drift.  Pretty much everything in your life will come and it will go.  We aren’t made to last forever.  To live forever.   For instance my hands are super swollen today, and really for no reason other than this mother effing menopause bullshit.  It’s irritating but later on today/tonight or tomorrow I’ll bet they won’t be.  It’ll most definitely be something else, but what I’m feeling now is not forever.

We all think that when we say those two life changing words, “I do”, that we “will” for our entire lives.  That may be true, but there’s a chance that it will change, even if just the dynamic of that marriage.

I joke but seriously believe that these days NO JOB is secure.  As much as we try to do good work, our career status may not be up to us.  We’ve got to just go through our day and do our best and be hopeful.

If you read the lyrics to this song, it’s appears to be about a girl who took her own life, and the struggles of the deeply saddened friend she left behind.  Don’t we all get caught up in the daily stresses of life and instead of allowing ourselves to live in the moment, good or bad, we worry and struggle and lose sleep and our good health just believing that it’ll never get any better? Or it will never be different?   I’m unhappy with my size right now, but good or bad, tomorrow is another day and I could feel thinner or fatter.  Maybe I’ll have a good hair day.  Maybe Donald Trump will stop tweeting. There is a sort of power in positive thinking.  I’m not going to tell anyone that what they’re thinking or feeling is wrong, Lord knows I’ve been in some pretty bad places mentally.  But if you can just remind yourself that nothing is forever.  Say it out loud everyday in your car if you have to.  For good or bad, nothing is forever.



La La Love

Over the weekend I went to see the widely talked about and award nominated movie, La La Land.  The movie stars Emma Stone and Ryan Gosling.  Two well-known actors and most of the reason why this movie has received so much hype.  It’s a different kind of movie/musical.  I’m not a huge fan of musicals, but those parts of this movie don’t really interfere too much in the story line, which is kind of weak really.  You do feel the connection between Emma Stone, (Mia) and Ryan Gosling (Sebastian). It’s easy to feel a sort of compassion for Ryan, with his puppy dog eyes and innocent smile.  Emma is funny and real and easy to want to be friends with.

I won’t give anything away in case you plan to see it, but I connected with the movie on an entirely different basis.  I felt a lot of my relationship with my husband related to the character’s stories in this film.  When you watch Emma on the big screen, you actually feel her falling in love.  You see it in her eyes, her facial gestures.  I can’t imagine being on a movie set, finishing lunch and then doing a scene where you have to look as if you have fallen in love with a man who is playing the piano.  Maybe that’s why I’m not an actress, and having watched it take place on the screen makes me appreciate what actors and actresses do every day.

There is a song that’s played and sung throughout the movie that resonates so deeply with me.  As you know music can change my attitude and mindset almost instantly, and this song is no exception.  I found this video of two different people singing my favorite song from the movie, and I’ve watched them about five times already.  They sing it so beautifully.  And it gives me hope.



Yoga Bitch

Last year I was on my way to yoga, taking my time just cruising down the road.  A car appears out of nowhere and is now riding my ass.  I couldn’t see who was in the driver seat, I assumed it was some kid with a new license, driving their parent’s car with a lead foot.  I’m not gonna lie, that makes me wanna just put on the breaks and crawl to my destination.  And that’s what I did.

I was in a residential area, kids everywhere, and this person was STILL riding my butt.  I actually said out loud, “this person REALLY needs Yoga”!  Now if you are trying to get to your house because you need to tell your relative goodbye before they board the bus to heaven, I understand.  I really do, but seriously how often does that happen?  You aren’t rushing to have a baby in your neighborhood, you’re on your way to the hospital.

So where’s the fire?

I’m still draggin my ass through the quiet area and finally make my turn onto the private road where Yoga was being held.  I glance up in my rear view mirror expecting to see the car speed rapidly down the road away from me, and it didn’t.  It stayed glued to my bumper.  I started to freak a little bit.  Was this a bad case of retaliation road rage?  I decided to peruse the parking lot, driving through the upper lot with lots of empty parking spots and then turning down into the lower level lot with just a few spaces left.


I pull into a space and they pull in to the left side of me.  I’m thinking something is going to go down here, so I reach over to grab my cell phone, and I’ve got the 9 and 1 pressed.  Out of the corner of my eye I see a person busily grabbing things on their passenger seat, so I brave it up and look over.  It’s a woman grabbing her Yoga mat and exiting the car with that and a gun  water bottle.

Had ya going there didn’t I?

I grabbed my mat and bottle and rushed to get out of my car, taking a quick second to check out something large in the back seat of her car.  She had Vacation Bible School signs!  What the WHAT?

She practically ran ahead of me to get into the building.  I later found out that she was an administrative assistant at a local church.


Why on earth would she want to ride me so closely going to Yoga? We weren’t even late.  I tried to find an area far away from that crazy bitch which I did, but still couldn’t recover from the scare of impending doom, aka being pushed off the road by a maniac in a ratty old Toyota corolla.  I did Yoga for 75 minutes and my breathing never got to Pranayama. That’s yoga code for controlled breathing.  Never got there.  I couldn’t take my eyes off of the tiny woman who put the fear of God in me just minutes from my house.  My life flew past my eyes as I white knuckled the steering wheel.  She exited the class without any sort of acknowledgement to me and she was gone as fast as she arrived.

I can remember it like it was yesterday but it was almost a year ago.  Until a few weeks ago when she arrived at my Zumba class.  Seriously?  Like she needs more aggression?  Try as I might to move away from her position on the dance floor, she was right beside me.  As I inspected this woman head to toe, she seemed harmless.  Short lifeless hair and a pair of glasses circa the early 2000’s.  She was all of 5′ tall and was wearing sensible, boring clothing.  She obviously didn’t recognize the woman who she scared the shit out of a few months earlier.

We proceeded to warm up and there were quite a few people in class.  Zumba is no different from a gym in January.  High hopes and goals to be more fit for the coming year.  It eventually dies down to about half capacity, but today it was packed.  And speedy gonzales was erratic.  It turns out that Yoga is perfect for this woman, because SHE HAS NO RHYTHM. Absolutely none.  She couldn’t tap to Old McDonald if her life depended on it.  So as I was counting steps, 1-2-3, 1-2-3, 1-2-3, she was all over the place.  At one point she was SO close to me that she was about an inch and a half from my bad foot.  I had to stop and take two steps back, while she was still absorbed with her flailing arms and legs.  She wasn’t stopping for nothing.  I had to give it to her, even though she didn’t have a single ounce of rhythm, she kept going.  Apparently you can work up a sweat doing random movements.  Skill-less, beat deaf movements.

Who knew?

Please enjoy this favorite that actually works in Yoga as well….but please don’t jump in your car with a rage-filled foot and run someone off the road.


How Do You Like Your Anal?

I’m thinking this title might catch a few of my readers off guard, but it’s meant to.  If you are stopping by my blog because you are inquisitive about the title, you can stop right here.  It’s not what you think it is.

The other day I had to repair one of my acrylic nails, and looking at the shape of the nail I had just finished reminded me of a woman who I used to work with at Thrift Drug Store.  For the life of me I can’t remember her name, but she had short, very fake red hair and was a perfectionist with her appearance AND her job.  You see she was responsible for putting out new stock in the store.  She would take a delivery, which was a bunch of different items thrown into a “tote” (plastic bin with a lid) and walk around placing the items on shelves.  She had to do a lot of “facing”, which is straightening the shelves and making sure that every item was flush with the front with the end of the shelf.  Facing is annoying and takes a lot of time, but it makes the store look great.  She was perfect for her job because she liked precision.  Her nails were perfect, her pants were perfectly pressed, she had newscaster hair.  Not one out-of-place.  Not one.  Her lipstick never bled into the tiny lines around her mouth.  Her glasses didn’t have a smudge on the glass.

And it annoyed the SHIT out of me.

I used to try to be more like her, like perfection.  Try as I might, I just couldn’t do it.  I would try to bake an impeccable looking cookie.  One that was symmetric in size, decoration, consistency.  I couldn’t do it.  I would end up with a delicious cookie, but not perfect.

I would attempt to put an outfit together, pressed shirt and skirt with hosiery, clean shined shoes and impeccable hair and makeup.  In just a few short hours, my hair would be disheveled, my face oily and my clothing wrinkled from sitting.  And that irked the hell out of me.

Working for an insurance company, I put a lot of effort into all of my duties being on time and complete.  Crossing the t’s and dotting my i’s.  But I would make mistakes…

As the years would pass, I figured out that I was never going to be one of those superb, anal people who prided themselves on the ridiculous.  On perfection. It was so incredibly tiring for me to try to achieve what it appeared others had been able achieve to so easily.  Would I ever, even with lots and lots of trial and error?  Nope, I wasn’t going to be that person with seemingly effortless precision.  I would never be able to keep my panty hose from running, nor my lipstick from sticking to my teeth.

Some of us can.  Some of us will be able to achieve this crazy  way of life.  And guess what?  I’m fine with that.  Because having my life be perfect doesn’t appeal to me anymore.  How mundane would it be, but more importantly how stressful would it be.  I know that there are people who feel better about themselves when they have a clean house or matching shoes and handbag.  It’s not vanity, it’s just who they are.

And it’s not who I am.  Hi my name is Robin, and I’m far from anal.  I have a cluttered life and a house with odds and ends strewn about, and a job where I make mistakes and that’s okay.  Today my sweater is old and has some pilling, it should be longer to cover my dimpled ass, and you can see my bra when I lift up my arm.  It’s what makes me “ME”.  I’m not changing.

So how do you like YOUR anal?

And because I miss him and I can’t believe he’s gone so soon, take a listen to one of favorite vocalists.  His voice=perfection…