Two weeks too many

I'm almost back. In fact I'm officially protesting my two-week (or should I say "too weak?") absence from Blogland by staging a sit-in here in front of my computer until such a time as I get another post or two cranked out.

I've been sick, both emotionally and physically over the past couple weeks, and it has taken a little time for me to make my way back to the point where I felt strong enough to continue on with this cyber-journey. I'm not sure how much I'll talk about it, if ever, so please don't bother to ask so that I won't have to ignore your comments. This post is not going to be up for long either. I'll be pulling it later today when I post the final two parts of my current marathon It's Still Ticking series. I only post it now, to at least quietly admit to the world that I am angry at myself for allowing myself to be such a fucking cripple. I don't particularly want to shout it from the rooftops, but if any of you standing here near the street corner are within earshot, then so be it.

I also want to say thank you to all of you who have commented and e-mailed me with your concerns for my well being. They were all effective in helping me to get over the huge hump that I am now but a few more strides from clearing.

Talk to you again later today. This time I mean it.

***UPDATE***

I had originally planned on only leaving this post up temporarily, but a comment from Kim made me decide otherwise. I had originally said that I would pull it when I posted the next part in the It's Still Ticking series. Truth be told, in essence I guess my idea was to admit something that I really didn't want to admit, then rationalize that I wasn't being disingenuous for deleting it because “at least I put it out there for awhile.”

Kim's comment made me feel ashamed for being so concerned about leaving that bit of vulnerability out there as a part of my Blog record. In her comment she said that she was surprised to see me admit to having those kinds of feelings, but that in doing so, it made her feel better about herself for also having them.

Well folks, I'm here to tell you that if I ever come off sounding like I'm Superman, please nail my ass to the wall with Kryptonite spikes, because nothing could be further from the truth. I am anything but perfect and emotionally bulletproof. I told Kim that I'm no different than anyone else. I hurt just like everyone does. But what I've learned is that I have a choice, and it is my decision that I refuse to allow myself to remain a cripple. I hold myself responsible for getting off the pity wagon and walking on my own two legs again.

Why am I saying all this? It's what I should have said in the original iteration of this post.

I've had a rough two weeks. I've been unwilling to push through it and write as I wanted to — as I needed to. Some of my problems were obviously due to my being laid up sick for most of last week, but some of it was based on life issues that I don't normally encounter, things that rarely if EVER happen to me; Things that completely caught me off guard. They immobilized me for a time, and that made me angry with myself.
But if by admitting that, I can make any of my friends feel better about their own bumps in the road, I will gladly be embarrassed for their sake. We all have a decision to make when we find ourselves hurting in regard to our personal state of mind. Happiness is a decision. It's mind over matter — if you don't mind, than it doesn’t matter. In my opinion, it’s as simple as that.

Thanks again for reminding me of that, Kim.