My Strange Addiction

My Strange Addiction

I have a shameful secret.  I’m far too old for such a thing, and though I know….I just KNOW there have to be others out there who share my vice, I have yet to meet anyone my age that is vocal about it.  Or as passionate and genuine with the confession of it, if they are brave enough to claim their deep dark secret. 

Many many women won’t understand.  They are too upstanding….they are too focused on motherhood or their careers.  It isn't fashionable.  Or they SAY they understand, because they can admit that they succumbed for a while, but they just don’t get it anymore, and give me that look….the side eye.  This preoccupation has passed, along with their youth.

 The strength of my addiction occasionally even catches ME by surprise.  But I have never even considered trying to repent.  I will never be able to break what binds me.  And I fully admit that the time I dedicate to my habit is what perpetuates my bondage.  But after my very first introduction, I knew I would NEVER be the same and my life was unavoidably changed.

I think it is the rush, or maybe the anticipation.  There are entire days that it is all I can think about.  I cannot focus, just knowing that each minute that passes brings me closer to my high.  And it never ever gets old.  And unlike other dependencies, there is no built up tolerance. 

The tiniest bit takes me straight to the top.  It you have never felt it, you cannot understand.  But there is NOTHING like it.  Increased heartbeat.  Colors and sounds and sensations are suddenly more vivid.  And everything mundane and negative…everything fatiguing, washes away in a second.  And time stands still, and everything is perfect for that moment in time.

Yes, it’s a deep dark secret, and no one seems to talk about it or even acknowledge its existence.  But I have come to terms with the fact that I will never shake the need.  I just can’t seem to help it. 

Please don’t judge me: 

 I am in love with my husband.

New Beginnings

New Beginnings

(or...hindsight's 20/20)

We have January 2014 under our belts.  Yay.  It feels like an accomplishment after last year's roller coaster ride.  But I do want to go on record as saying that I don't believe in New Year's Resolutions.  No way.  I DO believe that we can turn a page though, and that we can put a mark on a blank slate.  But, if we wait for a particular date to make a significant change, then we risk insincerity.  

Change and reconstruction are things that happen every day.

Every minute.

So I don't have a resolution to share, but I might admit to having a new focus in my greater plan.  I am getting more real with each passing moment.  It's starting with being more unashamedly honest-with everyone.  This includes myself.  And that incorporates a cease fire on my barrage of apologies.  Everyone who knows me at ALL has experienced the never-ending "sorry."  Always genuine, always sincere.  I am sorry I wasn't more direct.  I am sorry I didn't think of that.  I am sorry it is raining....I am sorry....sorry....sorry.....

I have charted it carefully, like any ongoing illness, and I am certain it is a side effect of the ultra polite, uber compassionate, terminally proper southern girl programming that was inflicted on me beginning in utero.  Bless my heart.

So I am done being sorry, and I am done being ashamed of my reality.  I will not be apologetic for who I am any longer.  That being said, we shall commence upon an ongoing revelation of confessions....some titillating, some painfully obvious, and some quite entertaining....at least I hope.  So buckle up.  I have. 





  

Sorrow and Glory



Last month, I turned 40.  And I have looked forward to it for some time.  Six months ago, I stopped living in fear and started surviving.

Losses and gains.  Sorrow and glory.

That's kind of indicative of life's ultimate course: both sides of the coin-joy through pain.  Everything brings a lesson, and my 39th year taught me that we are the sum of our parts, so it is okay to fall to pieces.

I have the perseverance of a Richardson.

I have the confidence of a Mills.

I have the Bailey spirit

and I love like a Garrison.

And I guess those things determine what I bring to the Poyner family. 

But I wasn't always as in touch with the fractious side of humanity.  At 28 I decided that no one was playing fair, so I took my toys and left the party.  Truly, I vacated the life I had been bricking together for the better part of my 3 decades.  In hindsight, I guess that is not a fair statement, because 'vacating' led me to realize that I had not been building anything.  I had simply been letting life settle around me....like sediment.  And it was unstable, like sand.

So I moved on, found a worthy foundation and only THEN did I begin to brick something together.  The first evidence of edifice.  And it was finally something to claim.

So when last summer hit, and my own body threatened to take all that away from me, I didn't even consider allowing that to happen.  I set my sights on 40 and made a beeline.  Now everyday is a celebration of what I have, and what I could have lost.  Today, I will take getting older above the alternative.  I am not quite done making my mark.