Weekend Journal

 

The First Wives Club....

A few weekends ago I watched this movie though I had seen it before, some years ago. Cynthia's suicide struck me. Cynthia, depicted by the gritty, award winning actress, Stockard Channing played the suicide scene so poignantly that I cried. Over and over....because I rewound the scene....over and over.  A woman gutted by betrayal, shamed and tired. Resigned to end it all. Her movement, her facial expressions and the determined, wounded sigh before she jack knifes from her penthouse terrace. I cried. Hard. 

I know those feelings. 

Which of us doesn't?  The topic here is not about suicidal ideations so please don't message me personally with concern. I assure you, reader, I still love life far too much to give it up. That should be evident to all that truly know me. 

The thought on my mind this morning is---the struggle. The days when life isn't the cherry, it's the pit.

Life is not for the weak. In fact it can be downright brutal. Thus, why we anesthetize ourselves with various devices of escape. 

Listen, we are all haunted in our own way. That's the sober truth.

We find and fight our way through hurdles, challenges and devastation. FAITH helps. I am only beginning to understand that...and even faith is challenged. 

Whether by your own doings or the things life puts on your plate--you will be challenged. You will struggle. It's unavoidable. So go on---jump on a plane to somewhere, overdose on Johnny Cash songs, walk until your feet swell, paint a painting or write a book. Get through it.

How you WIN, defines you.