Prompt: What are 12 things your life doesn’t need in 2012? How will you go about eliminating them? How will getting rid of these things change your life?
I’m cheating with this. #1 is nearly all I can think of, and I’ve been staring at this prompt for two days now and unable to get past that first item looming in my head. So for me, #1 is good for at least five or eight things. And I’m satisfied with that.
Not Quite 12 Things I Don’t Need in 2012
1. Ill health. I’m really not good at this. If it’s me, I tend to want to be left alone until I get better. Usually I’m pissed off about it. So I can handle me. When it’s someone else, though, no.
I’ve been watching my husband suffer from Crohn’s for this entire past year. It really sucks, because there is absolutely nothing I can do about it. I don’t deal with being helpless very well. I can’t SEE it. I can’t be on the inside with it. I can only hover on the outside and watch him go through hell.
He says I am a tremendous support. He tells me “just being there” is enough. He tells me he’s so glad I’m with him. I hear it, I comprehend it, but I think most of me doesn’t believe it, because I think I should be able to do more. I don’t know what, but something. Reach in and grab the disease and crush every last speck of it out. That kind of something.
I don’t know how to eliminate this one other than trying to keep on with the positive thoughts, help and support that I can do. Keeping spirits up, for him and for me, is powerful. I know this. I’ve seen it proved so many times.
It can just be soul-wearying sometimes.
The rest of these are in no particular order (and won’t make up the full 12 because of my get-out-of-jail-free reason above):
2. Unemployment. I’m big on job security. Losing my job in 2009 really affected me. Up until then, I was looking forward to a slow but steady progression in that single company. The fact that I wasn’t, perhaps, particularly happy in that company suddenly disappeared from my mind when my job also disappeared.
The positives outweighed the negatives, once I realized I was still me and a viable me despite getting the axe. There is one lingering negative I’ve only recently started realizing in turn: I don’t feel secure. I no longer believe a permanent job is permanent.
I know, this is probably just one of the most common of commonsensical things. I just don’t like it. Yet, I don’t have to like it. I just have to deal with it. All I can do is do my best, so whatever does happen, I’ll know I not only kept my integrity but was a credit to myself.
3. Bad spending habits. Don’t tell anyone, but I have coin jars under my dresser. I have “mad money” tucked in old wallets and under deceptively innocuous objects. I keep a large checking balance just in case I get stupid all of a sudden. For all that, I seem to be rather cavalier about money. Having it is wrapped up with my sense of security, but I definitely have my periods of spending. This year has seen a lot of retail therapy, and I can’t say I use 100% of what I get.
But. My latest purchase is a pair of real winter boots, not just girl-boots, so I can keep walking outside even when it snows. These I’ll use.
I hope to make every next purchase a purchase I’ll use, or not make it at all.
4. Losing my focus. If I’m going to write, I should write. Period. This is what I want to do, after all. And the fact that I can do it in my off hours and don’t is something I need to change.
5. Focusing on the wrong stuff. Daydreaming sidetracks me. I get wonderful ideas out of it, but I should turn them into words on paper, not just replay them in my head.
Having a brain-to-computer linkup would help, but until then, I’ll work on getting better at dragging myself out of my head even if I have to write on the walls for lack of paper.
6. Losing loved ones. I know we’re supposed to think of death as just another doorway, but on this side of it, the earthy side I cling to so desperately, I don’t think I’m any better at loss than I am at not being able to stand by and watch someone suffer. Parents, husband, guinea pig–I worry even when I know worrying doesn’t help.
What to do? Be there while I can. Don’t waste time when I am there. Be fully present. Remember all of the above.
7. Hanging on to friends who aren’t. We all know one or more of those. Sometimes you can let them drift by with little to no contact, safe behind the barrier of Facebook; sometimes you have to make the decision to cut them loose for good. Everyone has something special about them and everyone matters; that doesn’t mean you have to make everyone a part of your life. I don’t plan on excising anyone, but I’ll no longer hide from it, either.
8. Wasted time. This post should never have taken me this long. Onward!
Author Becky Benishek 