Square Peg in a Round Hole

So I've talked about quitting the newsletter I started editing, because I really just don't fit in with the group. I was told by one committee member that "You're not the editor," which really pi$$ed me off because that was why I was asked to join in the first place. To be the editor. Then when I spoke out about not being needed in the group, everyone argued that I am. Well, no, I'm Not! I am supposed to be the voice of someone without an addiction (apparently books don't count as an addiction-- good to know!). But it feels like everything that I bring up is shot down because "You don't understand what it's like to be an addict." No shit, Sherlock. But I know what it's like to live with someone with an addiction. That was supposed to be my voice. But my voice is being silenced because I don't know what it's like. The Square Peg cannot fit in the round hole without changing to a round peg.

So I guess that I've made up my mind. I'll finish this issue, then hand the reins over to someone that does know. They can figure out the formatting by themselves. Hope they have fun with the website. Luckily Wix is a very user-friendly format for the website (otherwise I wouldn't have gotten it started! I am not the techno-geek!!). Oh dear, I probably shouldn't use the word "user" in conjunction with the addiction recovery site. It has the wrong vibe.

Blah. I'll just go back to airing my creativity with yarn. Until someone decides that I don't know what I'm doing with that. Then I can tell them to stuff it.

It doesn't help that I've got my annual weather-change cold and my head feels stuffed with cotton. I should be home in bed with a cup of hot chocolate and a library book. But I haven't written on here for awhile so I had to get something posted, so I wouldn't feel like a total loser.

Bleh. It's cocoa time. Where's my bag of marshmallows?

What Might Have Been

Have been having a long dance with the coulda-shoulda-woulda troupe this last week.

Constantly questioning, second-guessing, hopelessly wishing, and just ruminating.

Wondering how many second chances do we really get, and how many should we take? It's a trying question. Will I ever be the person that I want to be? Some days the odds look better than others. Some days... well, some days the Prozac just isn't strong enough to deal with the Labeled Quirk of the Week.

But for today at least, I'll keep on keeping on. And watching Sage dance to the song of the same title. That always puts the happy endorphin level into full mode. :-)