Who's Driving Your Bus?

I'm sick in more than just my body today. My thinking is, too. It was just last week when I said to dearest one that we sure didn't get sick very often. Maybe one cold/flu a year at best. I was preening a bit at the thought, as if I was in control of life so much that I could ward off sickness by sheer willpower. If life was a game show, a big buzzer would have just gone off at the insanity of my thinking.

My head is throbbing, my appetite has left me and the mucus is like a dripping faucet down my throat. I'm not sick enough to be in bed but not well enough to do more than sit in front of the computer or lay on the couch.

However that reality did not stop me from looking out at the new coating of snow on the deck and seriously consider not only shoveling it away again, but doing the whole walkway and then going for a walk. I miss my walk. Oh, and while I'm at it why don't I clean the kitchen, sweep the floor and vacuum the livingroom, too. You get my drift. Only a person sick in more than just the body would sit here considering such options while feeling as if their head is going to explode if they stand up.

And what's driving my insanity is that I want something to show for the past few days dearest one and youngest son have been gone. Not that they expect it, I do.

When I was in treatment I learned I had this silent mantra driving most of my action. That mantra was I need to justify my existence.

There. I knew if I just started typing I'd at least get this off my chest and it's ended with me figuring out what's driving my insanity today. Like Earnie Larsen says, "Who's driving your bus?" Today it's been my 5 year old self who always felt guilty that she lived despite her premature birth, while her brother Rodney didn't. Who felt like she owed the world an explanation of her days in order to justify her living.

I just kicked her out of the driver's seat.