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Chalk line

I’ve started writing posts for the last three days. Three days. Three separate posts. All three incomplete. All three in draft form. I doubt I will publish them. They are too blue, too despondent. I write my posts on the spur of the moment. I let inspiration lead me. Sometimes the posts are superfluous others days deep. Some are silly and whimsical. Others frankly suck. What can I say….not every day is a good day. Realisa is my exercise at being optimistic, hopeful, grateful, contemplative, light-hearted and “glass half full”.

I write for my own behavior modification. It is cognitive therapy. When I feel blue or despondent, I try and shift my perspective. I work deliberately at getting out of my own head, or at least out of the shadowy corners filled with cobwebs and creepy things. I force myself to look around and notice the miraculous, supernatural, spectacular and splendid. Cobwebs are startling when you walk through them unexpectedly; they give me the heebie-jeebies. But…..a cobweb spun at the eave of the house, covered in dew and illuminated by the rising sun at dawn is a feat, a Michelangelo created and recreated every day by a BUG. And I bitch about having to get out of bed? Or having to pay taxes?

Realisa is my effort to get over myself. It’s just that some days, I should have a chalk line drawn around me I am so morbid. On those days, it feels inauthentic to force a smile. It feels fraudulent to feign positivity. I am not an actress and I LOATHE role playing….ask any person with whom I have been in school or medical training. I’ll donate blood, go the the dentist, have a PAP smear before I will volunteer to do any kind of role playing exercise. Acting feels so utterly unnatural. It’s not that I can’t lie. Believe me…I can lie to Hal Lightman and go undetected. I can fabricate elaborate ruses…..but I don’t. It feels like I am wearing someone else’s shoes or have pantyhose on with one leg twisted counterclockwise. Lying feels physically annoying, abrasive. What’s the point? Just stay silent. Say nothing.

And so three days pass without a post because I can’t fake it. I can’t put on a smiley face and pretend I am a happy shiny person when I am feeling maudlin or moribund. No one likes a grump. Or a brat. Or a pity party. I’ll be back when I have adjusted my attitude.

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