Funky Feelings of Feeling Funk

Funk is not cool.  Feeling the funk is rhythmic except when the funk steals your feelings, it’s agony. 

Sometimes I wake up ready to roll and conquer the world and other times I wake up only to observe the ceiling fan go around and around.  I have the ugliest ceiling fan.

When funk takes over my mind and body, life is challenging and exhausting…although a little ice cream does help. Disclaimer: Immediately after the last spoonful, will come a desire for potato chips, make sure you are well stocked. My personal research has determined, funk to be fattening.

Funk can be like the flu, it may linger for days.  If it’s a mega powerful funk, it may last for weeks or months.  The funk gets cozy inside of us, makes its own home, does its own shopping, it can be very demanding, but it can be evicted.

It became easy to say “No”.  “No, I don’t want to go out”. “No, I don’t want to go to the movie”. “No, I don’t want to wash my hair”.  “No” meant, I don’t know how to get moving again.

Captured by funk prison. If you know me, you know, prison is not a place I care to visit again, but it happens, we’ve all been there… most of us.  Physically free, but mentally captured. It sucks!

My father asked me if I would join him for Chinese food the other night.  My father lives alone and knowing how much he loves Chinese food, I said yes.  That tongue can be so quick, I meant to say no. He offered to pick me up in 20 minutes and it was his treat!

At dinner, he expressed concern towards my sluggish behavior and lethargic attitude, but didn’t want to ask too many personal questions. Fathers are men, and most men would rather get their teeth pulled than engage in one of those feely touchy talks.

I knew he cared, but I was afraid to say too much, for fear I would lose it.  The eruption of uncontrollable sobbing paired with psycho thought patterns, would be too much for both of us.  I prayed my fortune cookie would bring exhilarating jubilation.

A few days later my youngest son, Zico phoned me and asked if he and his girlfriend Morgan could come over for dinner.  “Do you mean, me cook dinner for you”?  You can probably guess, I said “no”.  He laughed, and said they wanted to spend a little time with me. Then I said, “No you cannot have any money” …just in case he was going to ask.  It’s better to nip things in the bud, early.

We sat around the kitchen table dreaming up new business ideas, inventions and reminiscing about the past. Listening to their stories about work and family, and their visions of hope and a future.  Secretly, observing Zico and Morgan’s love for one another, gave me confidence I had raised a good man.  For a short while the funk had faded.

They (whoever they are) say the first thing one must do is admit there is a problem.  One cannot change if one is living in denial.  I felt as if I were two people in one body.  I needed a bodyguard to keep me from the ice-cream and potato chips while the mind guard would keep those paralyzing thoughts away.

Saturday night, my oldest son, Rocky called asking me if I had any plans.  I laughed and said yes, big plans, I’m going to move furniture around. He told me he and his girlfriend Brittany were going out to dinner and asked if I wanted to join.  Of course, I didn’t want to do that! The thought of getting dressed and applying make-up was overwhelming for me.  Besides I was in my pajamas and very comfortable. Very sexy.

Then with a testosterone command he ordered me to get dressed and “no” would not be an option! What kind of son have I raised?

After going through several pairs of jeans, the skinny ones, the average ones, I finally found the fat ones and stuck with those. (They stuck to me)

Spending time with Rocky and Brittany was a treat.  I could see the love in Rocky’s eyes for her, and after spending more time with Brittany, I could understand why.  The evening was a refreshing change of pace and I’m grateful for testosterone. In case you want to know who paid for dinner, Rocky did.  I knew I raised a good son.

Three wonderful men, in a matter of days, impacted me.  What was it?

It was love and time.  Thank you, Dad, Zico and Rocky.

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