Dead Puppies Aren't Much Fun*

*I don't know why, but this song has been in my head all day, and jumped into this post. I couldn't help it.

Lately, even recently, I have been so darn inspired by others in my bloggy community. (Yes, it's a word. Deal with it.) There are so many wonderful, caring, beautiful REAL spirits out there whose words have rung true and touched me in so many ways. It's a real treat to read each day. Some move me to tears, others to laughter. Some both. All have become a critical part of my life that has become a real journey. I've been finding it hard to capture the words to put down, and often fall to the ease of my camera to express what I'm feeling. But it doesn't always speak as completely as the quagmire of thoughts and whirlpool of emotions within me. And so today I feel compelled to try.

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I have another confession to make. (Why? Just because.)

I'm a mouse. A scared little mouse. Snuffling around my little world, always looking for danger as well as food, trying not to get *too* noticed. And then BAM! The hawk I didn't see coming gets me. Obviously it's then over for the mouse, but lucky me, I get another go at it again. And it happens again.

This is not a pity party here. I have a point to this, and I'm getting to it. But anyone who doesn't care to read this, who's only looking for the rose-colored tinted life, needs not read any further. Just saying. (It's difficult to express what I want here, in such a public forum when I don't even know WHO is reading this. However, right now I'm talking to the community I've found here.)

Anyways, the point of my mousiness is: I lack confidence in myself. That's probably why I let myself end up in this forsaken isolated situation when I'm at heart a city girl. Or at least a big-town girl. Heck, any town kind of girl as long as this town has a Starbucks. And this one doesn't. And also who used to belong to a community, had a career, and lived life pretty fully. I'm still trying here, but it's hard some days. Mainly because of this and this and big-time fall-out critical side-effects of this. (Although not everyone's experience with it is bad, mine was: it's bad shit -- don't do it.) And unfortunately it continues to affect my life. Not cryin' about it here... just 'splainin'.

After years of brooding morosely about the turn of events in my life that led me here, and almost two years of blogging about my sorry @ss (that's for the haters out there), I've figured some stuff out.

One of them is that I tend to roll over like the dead puppy that I am when faced with very specific types of resistance or conflict. (I can't say more here right now because, again, I don't know who all reads this, and I don't want my personal life becoming someone else's gossip fodder.) There are some things I've been putting up with because it's easier and *nicer* to play nice, to smile or even laugh at it, to smooth things over and avoid conflict. While I have spent some time in an earlier life being known as the Shit-Stirrer-Upper, somehow things changed. I changed.

Sure, at the time I can ignore the stuff I don't like. But then, later, in the quiet of normal circumstance, I suddenly hear myself screaming inside, fighting against the prison walls I created for myself with my silence. And I don't like what I hear. It's also been a little distracting from my plans to Conquer My World and Get Me The Heck Outta Here, two very specific goals I've set for myself. And it shouldn't be that hard, right? Right?!

(Another thing I've discovered about myself is that I want to become a bit of a photographer. Even just as a hobby... a very expensive hobby. I want to have a real piece of equipment and take pictures and show my view of the world. I would like to eventually get paid for it. But I'm okay with just playing around with it for now, improving my art and learning the craft. Because I think I have some level of talent here--that might be the meds talking, or a very big stretch of the imagination, but you decide for yourself:

This was a lucky shot I happened to find in my database from last spring, but I like it. I don't even know why, I just do.

But this is a subject for another day.)

In the meantime, I know I need to get the courage to face these old demons (because yes, they ARE old) and fight my own battles.

I know this. I haven't figured out how, yet. But I know this.

If not for myself, then at least for him.