The Sweet Bitterness

On Sunday, my previous coworker Rose texted me to say that Sunday's just weren't the same without me.

I might have shed a tear or two.  She told me that I would never be forgotten because I had a beautiful soul.  I definitely shed a tear or two.  

On Monday, another previous coworker, Jill, texted me to ask how I was doing.  I definitely ugly cried after I told her how lonely I was and how there was no one to hug or touch or be vulnerable with.

Over the past few days, an entirely different coworker was  talking about her own mental health struggles and I monopolized the conversation to focus on my needs. She asked me if I was "happy"... 

... and that is where the sweet bitterness floods my mouth, my words, my heart, my mind... and my soul.

I am many things - and right now one of the things I am is an ADULT.

I work a job that pays the bills... 

I work a NEW job that pays the bills that have inflated due to Covid and Life and These Times.

Am I happy?  Do I even have the right to be?  The luxury of being?

no.  no I don't.

So am I happy?  

I am grateful, dammit.  Grateful. 

I am a grateful ADULT.

That has to be enough right now, because I'm grateful for so many things...

Grateful to work a job that has me indoors, sitting, and face-to-face with consumers, and challenges my brain and creates new synapses; I'm grateful to have a job that is more than the one before, that offers me potential.  I'm grateful to be employed, with security, and to be able to provide consistent income for my family, as humbly as we live.

But am I happy?

I WAS the cheerful one, the one who spoke encouragement and support, the one who rubbed their tense shoulders and told them they were amazing... I WAS the one who told bad jokes and announced silly happy announcements over the PA.  I WAS the one who listened to Worship Music on Sundays with my Rosie... I WAS.... and now I ....  I am.

I am not yet a part of the puzzle, the group, the foundation.  I am not yet the cheerful one who holds your secrets and your vulnerabilities.  I am not yet the one who goes to the manager to protect you, to protect our unit, to protect our family... I am ... "now"... and I am unsettled... but still searching for my place.

It is this sweet spot, of "was" and "could be"... and the bitterness within it, where I currently balance my soul and my heart and my emotion.  I don't like it... this bitter-sweet spot... but I will swallow it every moment of every day until it finally becomes just... sweet.

If you pray, please pray that the "sweet" comes soon because the bitterness is hurting me, its hard to swallow, its making me cry and wallow and argue against the joy that is hovering, potentially, for me to embrace.

If you don't "pray" - then send me your vibes, your energy, you thoughts and wishes and hopes... I need them all.