Do What You Have to Do.

"Your blog is total bullshit. You and your mother love the drama and stress. Jimmy was so bad to you. Yet you were never homeless or hungry. Stop blaming the [redacted] family for your problems. Your mother knew about and allowed any and all abuse you suffered. Shame on you for making your "story" everyone's business. If you need to talk about, see a psychiatrist! Don't contact my family again, ever."  My sister in law sent that (over Facebook) sometime in the past month.

I'm having trouble sleeping because my oldest step sister has stopped talking to me again. Just stopped cold. I'd thought it was strange and didn't expect it would happen again but it did.

I got that Facebook msg. and am pretty sure it's why.

My sister-in-law's msg. is in response to one of my previous blog posts (in which my family was disliked during an incident when I was 9) The incident was one that had a big impact on my emotional health and was/is obviously from a 9 year old's perspective. In the update I posted, I chose to view the incident differently and then, with help from my counselor, sought to learn how she (this particular step sibling who I was hoping to reconnect with) experienced -me- as a kid.

Maybe I was an intolerable pain in the ass. How would I know? But I haven't heard from her since attempting that...and I recently tried once more. That note from an angry sister-in-law is the only thing that can explain why.

What is there to say? Do? That isn't just going to perpetuate drama even more? Contrary to the idea that I love it, I'm doing very OK without it.  I'll sort my emotions out with professional help. Have done. Will continue to.

Meanwhile, here's to what is best for all involved.

I may still blog occasionally and I may still write personal things. Writing and blogging is how I sort stuff out. Nothing is of malice. I understand you have to do what you have to do. Fare thee well.

Sheesh!

Again. Yup. Day one on the Seinfeld Calendar for treadmill steps. What I need is a tiny Jen on the Edge in my pocket to remind me that one day missed isn't such a defeat that I should scrap it all. I would sit you on top of my bathroom mirror, Jen, up where the lights are.

With this blog post, I'm not going over where I went wrong. I'm just telling you I'm beginning again again with the prayer that it means ONE day I'll be able to say I began and I didn't stop for anything (not a missed day or a sickness, nothing). Hear me.

The Seinfeld Schedule

Once upon a time I felt success. It came from getting on my treadmill every day for a week, and soon every day for two. Then a month. Then 74 days came and went and I was still getting on the treadmill in my bedroom, pumping up the speed and beating out however much mileage I could cover for however long I could reasonably stay on without becoming bored, irritated or angry. I was so glad of myself then. I'd reached a few pre-set mental milestones and was feeling the win....then I quit.

It was a flu-like bugger that rendered me helpless. I was bedridden one, then a few days. And on those days I managed to allow my mind to believe I'd failed. I didn't make 75 days. Part of me wished to get back on the treadmill and resume count, and I couldn't. I'd have to start the count over.

So I didn't go on the treadmill again. Not for ages. As in 10 months.

Call it a New Year scramble or what-have-you...I am walking again. I started this Monday and am on day four. Rather than spew all my hopes at this blog post (and set expectations!) I am only letting you know that I'm four days in...this minute.