I am impatient by nature. It seems I’ve become both more and less patient since owning a farm. It’s funny, because do I actually own a farm or do I run the farm? I lease the land but own the business. What is the correct term for this situation? As I sit here on a container full of concrete (used as a door jam to keep my goats out the tool closet) I am being “bothered” by Chip, one of my original babies, for attention. He is the one that is the most skittish of the babies. You’ll have to forgive me, my ADD is pretty bad. I made the decision after Julie was sent over the Rainbow Bridge to try life without antidepressants and without medical grade stimulants. I was on antidepressants for over 15 years and I needed them throughout my teens and 20s but for the past year or so I’ve found that I was still dealing with anxiety, agoraphobia and depression. It seemed that the medicine wasn’t doing anything. So, I am letting everything leave my system. I am trying to live life without additives not because I don’t need them but because I grew resistant to them and sometimes, a person needs to hit reset on their body chemistry.
I also don’t like that with WordPress (the company I use for the backend structure for my website) when I am in blog editing mode, or any editing mode, if I want to create a new paragraph it creates a new “block” or subsection of movable information. Sometimes, I want to have several “blocks”/paragraphs together, I want to to be able to hit return without having a new block created. This simple, small issue is one of the reasons why I don’t write as much as I want to. The other reason being is that I use my phone to blog and typing on my phone is cumbersome. I keep waiting for my situation to magically change. I keep waiting for magically to reappear in this world. I keep waiting on the ability to snap my fingers and have what I need, when I need it. I grew up watching too any Disney movies and reading too many books. I wrote too many starts to too many books and I didn’t finish any of them.
Which brings me back to waiting. I keep waiting for something to happen. To win something; to be found. However, I am happy with my life, or at least with the trajectory, if I could but adjust one or two strands on the tapestry of my life. It seems, maybe, the fates have made a mistake. I am waiting for them to see it and adjust it, but does that mean they will unravel everything I’ve developed? Will I have to start over? Will I lose the people, the animals, the friends, the family in my life? Part of me says oh well, but most of me says, no way. I am building something here. I have had to make a lot of adjustments and many sacrifices to arrive at this point. I still have weird dreams where I am back in college or sometimes even in high school. Oftentimes, I am in the lunch room. I was cruel at times. Defensive. I had so much I felt I had to prove, to protect. Yet, I wore myself out that way. Now, I feel hollow, as though I am a ghost. Haunted by things I cannot remember, cruelty I wore without realizing it. Maybe, my dreams are trying to get me to remember the cruelty I wore like armor. Maybe, my mind had been waiting for me to wake up from the “slumber” of my feeling & emotions. I am easily angered and I have to hold on to my humanity in those dark moments because when I forget my humanity I forget who I am and what I dream of.
I feel close to my goats because the general public’s opinion of them is close to how I view myself. It’s funny that I gravitate towards these animals when at one time, I thought they were gross, unfriendly creatures. Now, I adore them. I adore how clever they are. I adore how obnoxious they can be. I adore what they’ve taught me. Maybe, they are waiting for me to figure out who I am.
