The Hard

"The only disability in life is a bad attitude."   ~Said by idiots who have never tried to go up stairs on a wheelchair 

That's not to say that my recent bad attitude doesn't require an apology.

I'm sorry. I'm a grown woman and I've been acting like a child. September 2016 could have been great. I should have acted better. Instead, I showed my ass and lost my dignity. I'm embarrassed to remember everything I said and did.

What happened you ask?

Well, like a little bitch, I've been whining and crying and complaining every day for the past three weeks.

And because I am blessed to be surrounded by good, kind people who love me, they took my daily petulance without complaint. I made them unwilling guests to my pity party.

It was only today, when I asked Paul pointblank, "Have I been complaining a lot lately?" and saw him hesitate that I knew for sure I needed to do better.

So, yeah. I suck. I've been an annoying pain in the ass and it stops now. No more phone calls with me crying. No more text message essays of how bad everything is going. No more unspoken asking for coddling.

I will do better from now on. The choice to be better was always up to me, I just decided to ignore it.

I wasn't always like this. In the past, I did not complain, but that was because I did not know the choice to complain even existed. Life was hard, and pointing out why it was hard was a luxury I could not afford. I didn't have the energy to do something so pointless.

No, I used that energy for something else.

I worked. I planned. I persevered. And through tearful sacrifice and unrelenting effort, I clawed my way out of that life, and somehow found my way free.

Now, I bask in the good life. Everything I wanted, I have. And that's been bad for me, because I've gotten fat and lazy. Not just in body but in mind and spirit. Sometimes, I've even started to think I deserved what I've been given. 

I've forgotten so many things. Like how life doesn't owe you a damn thing. You work for what you get and sometimes it still might not come. Success might never come your way. Life is not fair.

What is that, you ask?

That's The Hard. 

I failed to remember what The Hard requires for someone to beat it. It takes everything you've got to win. You punch and hit your way through it, even when it feels futile.

In short, I've forgotten what it means to fight.

My younger self, that tiny warrior who defeated such life-paralyzing odds, would whoop my ass if she knew what I was bitching about today.

"You are stronger than this," she would say. "Accept where you are and take full responsibility for your life. There's always a way. You know it, because once I found it for you. Now stop your bitching and find your own way already. No one else is going to find it for you. You are your own hero."

That pint-size girl Rambo speaks the truth.

It's up to me. All of it. Always has been. I have to take personal responsibility to make it happen. I'm the only one who could make this happen.

I know what I can do and what I'm capable of, because I've done it before. I am a fighter. My body knows how to take a blow. My mind knows how to keep my body standing even when my back is against the ropes. My spirit knows the endurance of strain, that effort it takes not to give up, not to give in to the exhaustion, to the pain.

Because I am a fighter. Always have been. Always will be.

I know what struggle is. I've stood up to it before. That courage is embedded into my core.

Seems I forgot that.

Well, I've wanted a reboot to my system for a while and this is exactly the Ctrl Alt Delete that I required.

September was a month of struggle and instead of welcoming it with open arms, I cried my way through it. I shouldn't have. I wasted a valuable opportunity to grow.

That's the part that shames me, because I know better. I am mentally strong. I know to practice gratitude, not to compare, and remember that it is a blessing to have opportunities in life.

The only way to get through the discomfort is to address what I'm feeling. And I'm feeling a lot of feelings: but mostly? Mostly, I'm scared. There, I said it. I'm scared. But scared gets me nothing. I should stop letting fear control me, and instead be thankful for another chance to fight  The Hard in the rink.

It's the only thing to do. In the end, fighting helps me to become better. Fighting makes the scared go away.

I have a vision of a dream. It's tantalizingly close and frustratingly far at the same time. But I know it wants me to catch it. If only I want it bad enough. I don't want to die feeling like I half-assed my way through my life. I want to give it my all. My best effort. Even if that means I never catch that firefly in the dark.

A challenge is an opportunity. It is not something to cower or hide from.

Will it be hard? Hell, yeah.

Will it hurt? Hell, yeah.

Will it change you for the better? Hell, to the effing yeah.

Your world is what you make it, and tomorrow is another Monday. But this time instead of dread, I stand.

Ready.