I'm not sure what that means, "like the dickens," but it's the only phrase that came to my mind while I was sitting here a few minutes ago, staring at this laptop and just not moving. I have a cup of tea and I was holding onto it, staying warm, and letting my mind wander too far down windy roads before snapping myself out of it.
I'm trying like the dickens to stay positive.
When I first moved to Virginia I spent an entire week on the floor sobbing. It's dramatic but true. I refused to think anything was going to be good, or become good, or even become better. That kind of negativity festers and morphs and becomes tangible. It becomes everything.
I don't want to throw a tantrum and I don't want to fester in negativity. I only have control over one thing, namely, my attitude. Positive thinking and optimism are far better choices than woe-is-me and tears.
That didn't stop me from crying.
And really? Life, overall, is good. Life is grand! And while I loathe to play the victim I can't help but wonder, out loud sometimes, when is it going to get easy?
I have control over my attitude, my thinking, of course. I'm trying like to dickens to will it away but I have no control over the toxic anxiety and black tar feeling in my gut.