Ramblings of an Inquisitive Mind

Missing Me

Seems like such a strange title, doesn’t it? But I really think that is what is wrong with me. As I was going to work today, I just felt like crying. And that’s when it hit me: I’m missing me!

The funny thing is, I don’t even know who “me” is anymore.

I think that after the battle with breast cancer last year, and all the ups and downs of this year, I have lost myself. I look in the mirror and I don’t even recognize the woman with the curly hair staring back at me. What happened to that woman with the long blonde hair, the big smile, and the great laugh? I catch glimpses of her every now and then – but only glimpses. I miss her. It seems that a sadness has crept in and stolen her away. I want to find her again.

Crazy, right? I’m still walking around in the same body, but I feel totally disconnected from the person I used to be and even from the person that I am. I am constantly doing things for others, putting others first, and trying to make everyone and everything okay for everyone else. I am forgetting that taking care of myself is important – that if I don’t take care of me, my entire life will have been spent running in circles. And that is exactly how I feel. I’m constantly running but I never seem to get anywhere, accomplish anything, or feel good about me.

I am sure some of the craziness I feel can be attributed to menopause, taking Tamoxifen (my anti-breast cancer wonder drug), and the fact that I am not sleeping. I spend my days feeling like I’m going to either kill someone, go crazy, or drown in my own perspiration due to these damn hot flashes. I have started to think of myself as a new superhero: Perspiration Woman! Dressed in a superhero costume – a tie-dyed bodysuit covered in dog hair, with pink sweatbands on my wrists and a rainbow bandana on my head. I won’t need a golden lasso to stop criminals. I’ll just wipe my forehead with my hand and sling sweat on the ground to make the criminals slip and fall, and the world will be a safer place for all.

So the real question is, How do I find myself again? I am not sure. As I am writing this, I am wondering if I have ever really known who the hell I am. I have always been a person who can wear many masks. I can fit in almost anywhere I go. I am skilled at making others feel comfortable and listening to their problems. Johnny, my friend at work, tells me I should hang a sign over my desk like Lucy in the “Peanuts” cartoon: “Psychiatric Help – The Doctor is In.” I probably would have made a good therapist.

I don’t know if I have an answer to this question. I do miss that part of me that viewed the world through rose-colored glasses. It was a nice view. But as I grow older, I am realizing that life is hard. Everyone you meet is suffering in some way. My world has been turned upside down for a number of reasons: my own cancer, a dear friend with cancer, a mother with Alzheimer’s, worrying about my aging father trying to care of my mom, not living closer to my parents so I could help more with my mom, feeling guilty that my sister is carrying the weight of caring for our parents, struggling to get by each month on the money I make, and trying desperately to make sense out of this world that we live in.

I know people must think I’m crazy with all my dogs, cats, and goats, but my animals are the only thing that makes sense to me right now. A part of me thinks it would be nice to be an animal, not having to suffer the heartaches and heartbreaks of losing someone, and not having to worry about the way the world is going. But I also know that animals are much more aware than we give them credit for. So maybe they have their own struggles and heartaches. All I know is that at this point in my life they are just about the only thing that brings me comfort and joy. Yes, they need me, but I might need them even more. I supply them with food, but they nourish my soul.

For me, I think, the only way to find that person I miss so much is through my animals. Being near them, caring for them, makes me feel whole. I don’t know where I fit in this crazy world, but right here in Colbert, Georgia, I am needed and loved. Maybe – just maybe – that is enough.