Alex and I were talking a few weeks back and she said that she would rather be sitting on the floor, than have the chair pulled out from underneath her again. I understand that desire, I do. I have been sitting on the floor for the last, almost, five months. But I can’t; that is not the way life works. Ky was very adamant to defend Alex last night when I was sharing my frustrations about Alex’s attitude. Ky said that there is comfort and even a “safe” feeling in misery. I know that…I have been miserable; I have let myself swim in my misery…bathe in it even. That action, or lack of action, got me nowhere. Well, that is not entirely true…it did get me somewhere, but not somewhere I wanted to be. In the end, it made things worse.
I understand that it is difficult to get up off the floor. It is easier to be pessimistic, or even realistic. But it is depressing, and we cannot progress nearly as much. I can’t begin to know what life is like for Alex, or even for Ky, and they can’t begin to know what it’s like for me…but for ALL of us, I KNOW that it is better that we pick ourselves up EVERY SINGLE TIME we are knocked down, or fall.
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