Rough Day
Today my husband freaked me out. Again. He's good at that. Right smack in the middle of my work day. My safe space. My happy place, when my life is falling apart.
This, on the same day I'm remembering my boss who passed two years ago. Remembering, but not publicly. Last year was the year for public mourning. I feel like last year no one gave a shit, but me and a few others. I even felt shunned, or just given the awkward silent treatment, for remembering him. Making it known. And yeah, some people – or one person – had something against him. So the plaque and the studio they dedicated to him is no gone. A kick in the balls. So no way I'm going to mourn publicly this year.
It feels like everything I do to honor others, or play by the code, protect the intel under interrogation and even torture, just goes no where. People don't repay you in kind. People don't even remember that shit, nevermind honor you back for it, or thank you for it. Even acknowledge it. It's like I live by an honor code sometimes that no one else lives by. Very few, anyway. The few who do, I don't do a service to, because I'm a cunt in my own way. But I can't tell you now how many times I've taken one for the team, or taken the hits, kept my mouth fuckin' shut, not ratting out my comrades – only to have them desert me or leave me to the fucking wolves in a heartbeat. Desert me with no cover as the enemy comes charging, in droves. Turn me over to the enemy. Reveal the info, or my secrets. All that hard-won, painstaking progress, just handed over to the evil side because of weak, honorless motherfuckers. I'm so burnt out on it, I'm so sick of it.
And now my husband, and the world seems to be telling me something: stop expecting people to repay you in kind. If you do something for someone, don't do it with any expectation that they will repay you in kind, or do anything short of spit at you in the face as a fuck-you, rather than thank you. You can't save anyone, but yourself. Help others, but don't try to save a fucking soul, because what they do with their lives is up to them. They won't save your soul, if it was up to them, anyway. Don't count on anyone to save you. You have to save yourself. And you're not in charge of saving anyone else. Leave that to God. It's not your fucking problem.
So while I thought I had fully integrated that message by now, turns out I haven't, so here we are – another reminder. Thanks God. It's like I'm clutching onto something in my hand (something that could hurt me) with a death grip, and He's slamming it against a countertop, trying to get me to release it. He tried kinder measures, but they didn't work. So now, he's using brute force – drop that fucking knife drop it drop it drop it let it fucking go Alex, let it go let it go. If I didn't drop it by now, I'm at least loosening my grip, that's for sure. I sure appreciate the lesson. It's the kindest thing about this day. Oh, that, and the security guy in my building asking me if I was married, and if I weren't he would take me out to dinner. That was how my day started: unexpectedly warm and charming. Then it went downhill real fast.
So you never know what I day is going to throw you. You can show up to work, feeling like shit, and someone thinks your pretty. You can feel like things are going fine, and they fall apart. You can show up to work and find out that your boss has been taken to the hospital, and you've already seen him for the last time. You can have your mourning be interrupted by odd facts coming out post-mortem, making you feel tainted and guilty somehow by association. You can think your body is healing, only to have another bump in the road, another layer of emotional grime to scrub away before it gets a little clearer, a little cleaner.
All I can say is the day is coming to an end, and all through it, I had God and angels on my side. That's something I'm so grateful for, just knowing that they are with me. Because I can't handle this shit on my own anymore. Not to mention the pandemic and the world going to hell. But my own life, my own day. I need angels to get me through my OWN day, hour by hour. Thank you God and angels for having my back when no one on this earth did. Thank you. Amen. There may be no honor among men, but at least it can be found in the heavenly realm.
Nov. 12, I'm done with you already. Goodnight.