Day 10...Rainy Days and Sundays

Why are Sundays filled with sadness and gloom?

They are the February of days, the dark ages of time,
the black hole of the universe.

I hate them.

I feel lonelier than on any other day. I allow my
imagination to run wild and then am even more let
down when faced with the foolishness of my fanciful,
whimsical thoughts.

I am embarrassed that my mind can wonder so freely
and yet so specifically into scenarios and at the same
time they offer me my only solace from the doldrums
of the day.

Today, I was thinking would be different. I was hoping
to awake and see the sun through my window and sense
the continuation of the beautiful weather in our nation's
capital. But the sky is thick with dense, sticky clouds.

My plans of basking the sun while continuing through Ayn
Rand's Atlas Shrugged (AMAZING), and taking dips in the
chilled blue pool were over. I was left in my bed to think
about Sunday in all its

Sundayness.....

And the older sadness crept in. Sunday with not even a
J-E-T-S game and pizza to cheer me up.

How have the high spirits of yesterday crash to this
unwarranted feeling of emptiness?

I have always been a person who trusted my emotions
.....lived by them, swore by them, acted upon them.

Throughout my journey, I have realized that emotions
can be tricky little bastards. I always wondered why people
didn't seem to be in touch with them, while mine are on
the surface all of the time, waiting to show, to betray any
sense of calm needed to get by. I cry, laugh, scream at the
drop of a hat, and never cared to see that there could be
some slight irrationality in that.

How do you not allow yourself to give in freely to those
emotions.....it seems that often times people have the
opposite problem. I am not trying to say that I don't want to
feel them. I just wish sometimes I could check them slightly.

My brother and I just spoke.

He is so angry with me for the debt I have incurred. For the
debt that he is picking up the pieces.

I can not buy gifts for his family. For my nephew........my love.

He is accusatory and has every right to be. My first reaction
was to scream back and defend. I have no justification to do
so. He is right. I am lucky he is helping and I have to take
all the venom he dishes out.

My emotions, if i so choose to follow them, would have me
cut off the proverbial nose. I would call back crying.......

Saying I don't need his help.
I do need it.
I would say I am going to take care of it.
I can't do that.
I would cry and cry and cry like a baby...not crocodile tears,
but tears in the hope to invoke some shred of sympathy.
I don't deserve his sympathy.

His help is what I am in need of. His help is what I am getting.

This Sunday feels like the Sunday before the first day of school.
I am trying to maintain the calm. As I sit here and write I know
my cloud eyes are going to rain wet sloppy tears. And a pity
party is going to begin.

It is Sunday after all.

In an effort to try and staunch the flow - what I can identify
as alterations in the normal behavior:

1. not screaming at him
2. not immediately stuffing my face
3. not angry with him for being harsh

That's all I got.
And now I am hungry so we may need to scratch off #2!

Self-awareness without change is Sunday behavior. I want
Monday to come. A new chance to apply the tidbits of self
knowledge gained through my Sunday Storm.

A rainbow to shine, reflecting off the puddles of my saline
droplets to show me there is hope.

Sunday........ a day only God could love.

Hope and Love,
Soul Dancer