Karma’s a bitch and I used to be one, too

I believe in karma. I think I always have. Even in times of stress and uncertainty, I have always had a strong feeling that things would work out for the best. Whether the end result gave me exactly what I wanted or just gave me time to adjust to what I was stuck with…I could always deal. I think being a child of a military father taught me that. Not because my dad was some stereotypical drill instructor (which he wasn’t!), but because my life was always getting turned around just when I was starting to get used to things. It is the military way. Anyone who has experienced that kind of life will tell you that. You like your school? Time to move! You’ve made a new friend? Time to move! You like your life? You have a boyfriend (finally!)? Well, guess what? It’s time to move!

Here I am, 32 years old. I’m a single parent and working whatever job will provide me and my daughter with health insurance, weekends off, and tuition reimbursement (since I also do not qualify for financial aid!). And sometimes these jobs are only meant to last a short time, just enough to catch up again on my bills and pay out my college tuition and legal fees. And sometimes these jobs land me in an office filled with more egos than I know how to tolerate. But I’ve always adjusted.

I think I’ve adjusted so many times before that I have forgotten how to stand up for myself. When I was a teenager, my friends came to me when they needed someone to be a bitch. I took care of them and I took care of me. I genuinely like being nice and taking care of the people that I like. As for the others, they can kiss my ass. I deal with them on an as-needed basis. Unfortunately, I’m not much of a people person and can’t stand most of the world’s population.

Which makes me wonder…have I lost myself? Have I lost the person I once was and all of that great karma that came with her?

Maybe karma knows that, in the back of my mind, I’m gleefully punching the people I work with in the face every time I say “Yes, I will be happy to do that for you!” Maybe karma knows that, deep down inside, I want to spit in the coffee that I make for them every morning. (But I never do – because that’s just wrong! And also because Dave drinks that coffee and I think Dave’s awesome! He’s not one of them.) Maybe karma knows that it can have its little way with me and all I’m gonna do is sit here and…adjust.

Hmm…wanna know something, karma? I can play this game, too. I’m tired of being everyone’s little bitch. I’m tired of being the girl known as calm, organized, relaxed because that girl isn’t me! I’ve got more turmoil brewing inside me than you can shake a stick at (not that you’d want to shake a stick at it, but whatever) that it’s literally making me sick and the only way to keep it from getting worse is to let the bullshit just roll off my back. Until now, because that load of bullshit never goes away. It just starts collecting in a trough that weighs a ton and gets pulled around by me, wherever I go.

I am tired of adjusting. And, quite frankly, I’m just tired. But this doesn’t mean that I’ll let you keep slapping me around, karma. Oh, no. I just need some rest. And a good game plan. I will win you back.

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About Dena

I'm a suburban Clevelander by way of Oklahoma City, by way of North Florida, by way of Southern Maryland, by way of Upper Michigan, by way of Northern Italy, by way of Lower Michigan, by way of Texas. Because of living in so many places, I have something in common with almost everyone I meet. I love reading, writing, and American history (especially reading or writing about American history). I'm interested in culture of place, historical trauma, and writing about the kinds of histories most people don't know about.
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