I won't go into to the details, who like to hear about that kind of stuff. I'll just say I don't like those days and would give anything to feel good when icky stuff creeps up on me. About the only time I wish I could go back in time is when yuck happens and I wish I was twenty again.
You don't realize just how many commercials there are for old people telling us how badly we need medical insurance, and which company is the best, until you are under a blanket on your sofa watching crime shows because you are too tired, miserable and feeling sorry for yourself to even want to walk to the fridge to get a bite to eat.
And, except for the commercials that tell you you need to get up of your a** and go for a walk, run, or bicycle ride that make you damn mad at yourself, you'd probably make that extra stretch for the remote control and turn the damn set off. But even that takes too much energy.
So you lay there and wallow.
wal·low
[wol-oh]
verb (used without object)
1.
to roll about or lie in water, snow, mud, dust, Or, self pity: Goats wallowed in the dust.
2.
to live self-indulgently; luxuriate; revel: to wallow in luxury; to wallow in sentimentality. Or, self pity.
3.
to flounder about; move along or proceed clumsily or with difficulty; as in, self pity: A gunboat wallowed toward port. I wallowed toward the refrigerator looking for sustenance.
4.
to surge up or billow forth, as smoke or heat: Waves of black smoke wallowed into the room, or my head in self pity.
Wallow, wallow, wallow. Maybe my autumn melancholy is starting early.
Actually, what I've been suffering from is anxiety. Yes, my enemy has returned. Yesterday morning I thought I was going to have a heart attack. The first thing I did was pray. Then I reached for my aspirin and blood pressure medicine, and just laid there for a while, wallowing.
Eventually CC and Zorro lost all patience, and I had to get up. There are days they are my saviors. Once I got up and got moving things got better. I took my anxiety medicine, and felt even better. Oh, the wallow was still there, but my outlook was better. I got busy with laundry, checking on Florence, and even pulled a few weeds while exploring the back yard. I found a few flicker feathers, finding feathers is always a special sign from my God things are going to get better. I was thankful.
This morning, I would like to tell you the wallow is gone. It isn't, but I'm feeling better. My rose colored glass is still a little less than half full, but, things are looking up.
I grew up in an era where you pulled yourself up by your boot straps, and medications, alcohol, and so on were not acceptable crutches when things got you down, or overwhelmed. And, for the most part I have to agree with that, it builds character, self sufficiency, stick-to-it-tivness, and fortitude, a sense of accomplishment to have worked things out on your own. However, sometimes, doctor's orders, a little pill helps once in a while. I've got to learn to use them before I start to wallow, wallow, wallow.
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