An emotional touchstone

Feelings on the inside that need to put on the outside.

Making peace with my dad only to lose him to cancer. I wanted (needed) so much for him to live longer. Three weeks from the discovery of stage four small cell carcinoma to gone. I appreciate that we were given those three weeks to say sorry, to say I love you. However, I will never see my dad again and that pain is beyond words.

Damn the holidays for making apparent that my sisters and I have lost four grandparents and one parent. We’re down to a crazy Mom, whom I love dearly and do no want to lose.

To all my friends who I just recently introduced to this blog, feel no pressure to read it. It’s stuff in my head that needs to be written. I’d write it and put it into the Wailing Wall, but the Internet is more convenient.

There’s frustration growing with in me. Right now it’s manifesting in cleaning. Put shit in order. Organize pantry, drawer full of storage containers, tidy up my tiny bedroom space, work on my bathroom.

But here’s the crux, there’s other stuff that I need to be working on that’s being ignored. Finding an internship. Possibly finding another job to replace the one I have now. Graduating in five months. Time has flown by. I’ve now been in the City for almost seven months.

Some of you have wondered how I got from the east coast by the ocean to the Midwest city I’m in now.

How I got here….

In a car.

Long story shorter-

Dec 2007: Move in with boy. He’s neurotic and narcissistic, but I wanted to be able to return to school, so I ignore his neurosis.

Thought I was in love with him, thought he was in love with me.

Ok for the first few months.

Then I realized we were all wrong for each other.

Actually, I knew this even before we moved in together, but it afforded me the ability to quit my job and return to school.

August 2008: I return to school to study medical assisting. Looking for the complete 180 to what I had been doing.

September 2008: The boy starts acting really odd. Like little lies when lying wasn’t necessary.

October 2008, a few days before Halloween: I find out he had been sleeping with his best friend’s girl friend.

World: Shattered.

Moved my stuff to a friend’s house and stayed there for 3 weeks. Didn’t have the emotional energy to put my stuff in storage and pack up the car to drive north with a dog and three cats.

For many unhealthy reasons, I moved in with him. Went on with life.

Life was ok, neither good nor bad.

Two years go by, we hardly see each other because of work schedules.

My sister L* knows that I need to get out of there. Come back to the Midwest, live with me and K*, she says.

I start to really take note of every time the boy is a dick, in general and to me.

By February 2011 I made the decision to leave on April 3rd.

He would be at his friends house for the weekend and I would have less than 48 hours to pack all of my stuff and get it into a storage unit and make the first part of the journey to my Dad’s house to stay for a few days with my step mom.

It sucked, I cried.
And now it’s seven months later.

I left out a lot because I’ve done my best to make peace with all the bad shit. I’m focusing on the now, making the present count so that there’s hope for the future. My future (fingers crossed) with Fisher.

Real love, I’m finding out, isn’t crazy or dramatic. It’s warm and fuzzy. Like a little flame in your heart that keeps you warm when it’s cold. Real love is not a four alarm out-of-control, wipes out cities fire.

I am not a storyteller. This blog is just thoughts put into words and  typed on a keyboard. An emotional touchstone that I am happy to share with a few dear friends. I want to not feel like we’re strangers, even though it’s been so long since we’ve seen each other.

 Mount Lemon, Tucson AZ 1999

9 days of Christmas in January.

Pre-Ps. If you could click on an ad once you're done reading, it will bring you lots of good luck and a little bit of extra cash for the holidays.

Why does google randomly make me change my password when I sign in for blogger but never for my google home page? #whitewhine

 So, I haven't written for a while. What's been up in my life?

Getting cold here in the upper mid-west city. Well, yesterday was 50 and rainy, but it did snow and stay below freezing for a few days.  I hate winter. Very cold temps and wind, specifically. Wearing tights under my work clothes. I know I’ll survive, but I’d rather just sleep through winter.

Good lead on an internship. Keep your internet fingers crossed.

Loosing hours at work because the boss keeps adding more days when the office will be closed. The good is that I’ll be able to spend about 10 days with Fisher. I’ll be taking the cats with me and leaving S* with L* and K*. Hopefully K* won’t teach her any more bad habits. Between him and the ex, the dog isn’t as well trained as she used to be. She used to know down, but now when I give her that command after a sit, she just looks at the ground like that’s good enough. She’s getting older, but doesn’t appear to have arthritis that would prevent her from laying down on command. 

We put up a tree and decorated the house. Took a few shots of Bailey’s to get me in the spirit, but I got there. L* is particular about what ornaments go on the tree (her ornaments, her tree), so I did the around the house stuff. Garland and bows on stuff. Looking forward to baking and decorating cookies. Plus, we’ll have our two family traditional foods for Christmas dinner- orange jello with pineapple and shredded carrots plus waldorf salad. Kinda sad our family only has to traditional Christmas foods. Oh, and yeast rolls. Not a family recipe but a family tradition. 

This weekend I need to make muffins to send along with my mom’s and oldest sister’s (D) presents. Cat stuff for my mom and wine for D*.

Everything is going well with Fisher. He calls so say that he thinks about me a lot and wants to know what I’ve been doing. I’m doing good at not freaking out. Occasionally I text or call and leave a voice mail. But if I don’t hear from him, then I don’t get all psycho. 

Two classes next semester and then I graduate. Excited and scared (in a good way). Did really well in my meeting planning class this semester. Happy that I’ll have the professor of my major for a class next semester. She’s pretty awesome and appreciates the experience I have and that it makes the class better. I know that there’s professional stuff I know well, but it’s nice to have it acknowledged by my major professor.

What else? 

Have to take meds to sleep at night. Taking the Celexa because if I don’t, then I have withdrawal symptoms. Interested in not taking it and only taking the clonopin and adderall. Wonder what my psychiatrist would think of that?

In the realm of TMI- I’m off birth control pills and had an IUD put in. No more hormones please and thank you. My body felt so much better when I wasn’t on the pill. No hormones and no babies and a committed relationship. 

Fisher and I have touched on the possibility of having kids. Of course we won’t talk about it for reals until we live together and both have steady jobs. But if we do want to produce a gene counterpart then we’ll have to start sooner rather than later. His age doesn’t matter, but I’m now on the wrong side of 35 and there’s a possibility that early menopause runs in our family.

I’m totally open to adoption, not sure what F*’s feelings are on the matter. He’s an only child and since my dad was an only child and my mom and dad had all girls, it would be kinda cool to have a boy that would be half his family’s genetic material and half mine. Not that mine is all that stellar. 

I began to think differently about my no kids rule, after Fisher and I had Thanksgiving with a few of his friends and their friends. There was the cutest little girl there, 19 months old and we bonded instantly. I entertained her while her mom and dad were finishing cooking, told her about Columbus, genocide of the Native Americans and small pox. Good times.

Then later after dinner, I was playing with her Winnie the Pooh lego set and I see Fisher pushing the little girl around in a box having a good ol’ time. There’s not doubt in my mind that he’d make and awesome dad. And I’ve always thought that I wouldn’t do to bad as a mom. Cloth diapers, not using the word no, you know that whole Montessori school thing. 

Sleeping too much. Should be looking for more internship opportunities. It’s so damn comfortable to spend time in bed with my dog on one side and H*, my snuggle bunny (9 year old) kitten attached to my hip and sleeping under the covers with me. With the last year and a half being the season of human and pet death, I want to spend as time with them as I can. R*, my oldest cat will be 15 this coming spring, H* will be 10 and my dog S* will be 12. And even though R* is doing really well with his insulin shots, no one live forever. Although L* had a cat that lived to 18.

‘Cause what you really want to read about is the age of my pets. 

So, taking cats with me for my 9 days with Fisher. Sadly, leaving dog, who will be well taken care of in the City. 

Two more classes, then graduation. Keeping fingers crossed for internship.

Computer is being really slow when I type. Emptied my trash, which had a crap load of stuff in it. Maybe that will help.

Word hates my grammar usage. It yells because it cares, too bad I don’t listen.

 Ps. Miss home away from home in Texas, miss my friends in West Palm and excited about seeing a very good friend at the end this month and meeting her little boy.

Life in Percentages

1:27 am. Woken by the urge to pee, a slight annoying headache and waking up to some stomach pain. I've had the headache since around 6:30p. Caused I'm assumed by air pressure changes and the storm I was approaching as I drove from Fisher's back to my home base.


At the start of the trip I took half an adderall (7.5 mg) and I as a traveled on my head began to hurt. My neck was pretty sore too. That's what happens when you had 2 herniated discs in your neck and don't go to physical therapy for as long as you should. So, I took the one hydrocodone that I had with me. Unfortunately, that made me feel sleepy and driving at night through some light rain with the window wipers was hypnotic. Took a whole adderall hoping that would wake me up, but I wasn't feeling it. So, what's the next logical thing to do? Take one more.


Normally, I take a half. Any more and my heart races and I feel like I've drank 5 cups off coffee. Adderall helps me concentrate; excessive adderall turns me into a hamster in a wheel. Lots of moving, absolutely nothing accomplished.


Made it home in good time, took a clonopin and all things considered fell asleep pretty quickly.


Cut to 4 hours later and I have stomach pains from the hydrocodone. Really, I should never take one of those ever again. Here's the deal- because I have no gall bladder, the bile that enters my digestive track isn't "normal." So, when I lay down, the abnormal bile backs up into my stomach and if I take a hydrocodone and lay down before my body has fully digested it, it mixes with the no gall bladder bile and causes some severe stomach discomfort.


So, I'm awake and sort of sitting up, eating some yogurt hoping that soon I'll be able to fall asleep like my brain and body really want to do. My dog is laying next to me with her back against my leg, so that's really only the point in favor of being awake 6 hours before I have to be up to go to work.


The visit with Fisher was pretty darn awesome, but also very short. Drove down yesterday at 11am, got there at 3p and drove back to day at 6pm.


I love that he'll listen to what's going on in my life and is sincerely interested. Sure, as soon as I get to his apartment we could head straight to the bedroom, but our attraction to each other is 50% mental, 50% sexual. Having know each other for so long and knowing each so well, we have some pretty great conversations. But the one thing that I value above all is that I don't have to pretend to be something I'm not and I am absolutely 100% myself around him.


Getting sleepy, eyes closing, sleep tugging at my elbow.


Hoping headache over my left eye goes away.


I'm doing my best to appreciate the time I spend with him. Appreciate knowing that he misses me when I'm not there and our plan to finally intertwine our lives into one. Although it remains to be seen if he's just humoring me about having a goat, dog and cat that are all friends. I see them being buddies on an enclosed back porch and the dog and goat playing in the back yard. The dog and cat will cuddle together at the foot of the bed. Or more likely they'll take up 75% of the bed, while Fisher and I eek out a small portion for us.


And he's coming up here next weekend. Wednesday is my birthday, so L* will make my cake and we'll all go out to dinner. Fisher asked me what I wanted for my birthday. I said that being able to be with him two weekends in a row was pretty awesome. Years past I've gone to the zoo or an independent petting zoo for my birthday, but I think the city zoo has taken the goats inside now that it's getting cold. Maybe we'll just stay in bed with S* lying at the foot of the bed.


Anyway, I finally told him that what I wanted for my birthday was for him to begin thinking about what he wants to do when we move somewhere together and where that somewhere might be. I've only got 6 weeks left of this semester and then spring semester and then graduation. Time doesn't stop, nor slow down and it'll be May before we know it. May does mean warmer weather and that I'm looking forward to.


For next time- how we spent the weekend and the crazy lake hike we did.

(In Spite of)/(Despite) the Fact

Just got off the phone with Fisher. Talked about my mom and other issues that I've been dealing with. Not knowing when I'll see him next, knowing that the phone will end. Makes me teary-eyed. It's beyond words how I feel about having him in my life. Not knowing when I'll next hear from him, see him, finally share a home with him-- well that sucks.

And I have to make sure I'm not coming off as too needy because he can't up and move to be with me. There has to be a plan in place and right now he doesn't have time or all the pieces to be able to start thinking about the plan. He's terribly stressed because of his job and missing me adds to his depression.

Also, see that ad over there. I'd appreciate it if you clicked it so I could save some money to visit a very dear friend of mine. Every now and again you need the princess treatment- that's what I get when I go there and be the store cat.

Friendship. Acceptance. Love.

Scratching Backs, Helping Out

I've added added ads to my blog. Let me know what you guys think. For me to make any money (say for visiting my awesome friends in warm, far away lands), I need you to click on the ad links. Just viewing my blog, I believe, doesn't do anything.

I'd really appreciate a few clicks here and there. And if you have a blog with ads let me know your blog address in the comments and I'll do the same for you.

Look- that 204 score- that mine! Probably the first time I have gotten over 200 pts in Scrabble.

A Diatribe Like Any Other

I hate having to type this because then I have to look at my worry and wonder if I'm over-worrying. Is it a pointless worry or valid? Should I wait to worry until later like when we live together? Or should I anticipate so that I'm aware and in the moment.

Last relationship, last boyfriend- I/the "relationship" was not his priority. If it was, it ranked below himself, his friends, recreational/activity stuff that he liked to do, shopping for said activities or weird hobbies and, trust me, the list went on.

Sure our work schedules were completely opposite, but it was nothing for him to leave me alone to go visit a friend that lived 4 hours away that with his schedule he could visit every other month. Maybe we would get two days off together a month, but if one of those days overlapped with a trip to his friend's- who was the priority. Not me.

So, now me and Fisher. Fisher is crazy busy and his boss is a workaholic and uses Fisher like a co-dependent wing-nut. That made no sense, but the point is that Fisher is mad busy and hates his job becuase of it. But he's always been mad busy trying to lift up the community theatre like freakin' Atlas. Fisher is human, he's been saying yes to every sad eyed community theatre yokel for the last 25 f'n years. My hope that now that he's on the other side of 45 he'll finally want to change gears and want to have a real, meaningful long-lasting live-together relationship.

If I moved back to College Town to be with him, I would never be above this damn community theatre wanna-be something. His boss has Fisher on a retractable leash. Think you're walking on you're own- nope, let me call you at 10pm at night to let you know that tomorrow at 10pm at night we're having a budget meeting. Who does that sh*t?

He has to move. He mentioned moving up here to Big City, Midwest. F*ck that. I hate it here. Inconsiderate drivers, cost of living, insanely high taxes. I'd rather live beneath or in the hills of a conservative state that may produce less than average high school graduates at a lower than average rate compared to the percentage of graduates in other states. What? Go with it or really just keep reading...

I am a split down the middle Southerner/Yankee. 50/50.

Although, I really prefer areas where the Mason/Dixon line isn't even an issue.

F*ck, I know he's busy, but I could use a boost. Sick all this week. Place to myself makes me miss having my own place to myself. Or at least a place with someone with whom I'm also dating. Can't have roommates.

Is it selfish of me that right now I want to come first. Not all the time, but now after I've had a down trodden weak of ick. He'll call and he'll apologize for being so busy, how he hates his job, misses me. And some how I need to find a way to sooth my impatient soul, need satisfaction now, have no money to do that by buying something on-line. Look! New! Shiny! Distraction! I've already caught up on the little tv I enjoy and watched a 2nd ep of a show I want to like, but is about rich white married people who really have nothing to complain about, but yet are still complaining.

Arg.

My fear is that all this good, peaceful-making feeling is going to drop to the bottom and take me with it. When it comes to emotions, I run luke-warm, with an edge of slightly cold. On my meds, I'm happy. And when I'm really down it's hard to put into action taking my meds even knowing that they will make me feel better.

When I'm low energy and curled up in bed, that last thing I want is to take something that will give me energy to get out of bed. Because before the meds, cuddled up in bed was my only way to feel safe and keep the anxiety at bay.

Cuddled up in bed, the world could be experiencing the apocolypse adn I wouldn't care. In bed, feeling safe, bad stuff, stuff I'm ignoring does not exist.

Today I had a wonderful moment, where my present self reached out to my past self. Mending fences, reaching back 15 years of self and trying to tell my 19 year old self that it did get better, that we will get better. I hope that's what I say to my 36 year old self in another 15 years.

And today I am thankful for the man that Fisher has become. He's pretty darn amazing.

It's a Small World

A shout out to my readers in Germany and Russia. I'd love for you to comment. How did you find me? Where are you in those countries?

Edit to add: People of the US! Thank you. But seriuosly, you're just not as interesting as being read by someone(s) in Germany and Russia. If you're in the States, same questions apply. Go for it-

Cathartic

Here at Fisher's computer. So nice to be in a normal relationship. For example, the ex always kept his computer on lock down. Password protected, logged off if he was away from it for 2 seconds. Unlike how it was this morning with Fisher and he gave no thought to giving me his password so I could go on-line. Dear me, that last one was messed up.

Nice fall day. Brought S* along with me. Fisher is working today from 9a til 7p, so S* and I went for a walk on campus. Perfect fall day. Long sleeves, scarf, sunshine, slight breeze. She had a great time sniffing and peeing on everything. We went on quite the trek from the union, to opera house, to the fountain, to my old dorm, to where Fisher lived when we dated.

Back in the day mid 90s here on campus I was crazy. Walking around today visiting the old haunts was very cathartic. Making peace with the past. Putting out good energy where once there was bad, very bad. Took pictures of S* in some iconic locations. Maybe if the weather is nice again tomorrow, we'll head back out. The dog is sacked out from the day.

We talked about being on the same page of working towards moving somewhere together. Felt good to here him say that. Lacking a whole lot of stability in my life, so knowing that we're working together towards a goal is comforting.

After he left this morning I went back to sleep for a few hours. When I woke up I was feeling down because come Monday morning I head home and I won't know when I'll see him again. Showered, ate, took meds and got out of the house. His apartment is pretty depressing, so that didn't help. He's never home, so the state of its being doesn't really matter. It all feels very temporary, which is good for us, but bad a place to hang out if you're feeling down.

Fisher is so great with S* and understanding. He appreciates how much she mean to me. And maybe we'll agree to add another dog or a goat. L* and I went to an alpaca farm last weekend. They are cute are very soft, but I want a goat. Guess you sort of have to have more than one for company or a dog that's grown up with the goat so that they are best friends. That would be cool.

Fisher mentioned that it maybe as soon as December that he wants to get out of here, the college town. He's been here since 1983 and his current job is killing him. No days off, large amounts of responsibilities that fall on his shoulders, working 18 hour days. When he gets depressed he retreats inward and doesn't want to talk or be around anybody. I think, though, that our relationship is strong enough that he won't push me away. It does seem like our goal of moving somewhere together will happen.

On other fronts, school is school, need to dig in more with one class that I'm moderately blowing off. Work is ok. New skills, more job opportunities.

Today was about making peace with me own worst enemy- my past actions.

Accentuate the positive.

There will be times when life sucks. As in the pain you feel will feel endless. All you will want is to go back and make it right. Spend more time, don't hurt, make it right, listen, be in the moment. Regret. You will have thoughts of regret whether or not you've ever told yourself that you have no regrets. When someone you love dies or you realized the life lesson after the barn door is shut and the horse is no where to be found.

Moment by moment, day by day you deal with the pain and do your best to distract yourself from the pain. Pain, hurt, regret will consume you. In an instant. You  have to fight back. In your weakest moment you have to fight back. Don't do it alone- call a friend, see a therapist. But dear god, don't expect the person that you just hurt, don't ask him or her to make it better. Only you can reach inside yourself and start the journey to better.

I'm doing ok. And the rant above is only slightly referential and then from only a third party point of view.

Try, do your best, not to have regrets because if you live to old age, I'm talking late 80s and 90s, all you will have is the past. Have happy times on which to reflect. Dependent on someone to take care of you- fix your meals, get you out of the house, take you to the bathroom- you don't want to have regret sneaking up on you. Your life will suck enough.

This is my only life. I will do my best to appreciate each moment I have. My amazing sisters, the amazingness of finding love with someone who dealt with me at my worst. I pined for 16 years. I should have lived my life for 16 years. I could have not pined, not cried over lost love and still have reconnected with Fisher. We're not back together because I shitted away great moments of my life because I was obsessed with him.

Appreciate all the good- in yourself and others. Do your best to be a better person. To have pure love for another. Plan for the future, but don't write it in blood. Write it in pencil or have some white-out handy.

The Beauty of the Color in My Life.

First off, the store cat has to apologize to the storeowner for forgetting to get in touch. Carried away with bike riding with my sister and picking up produce at a farmer’s market.

This thing between Fisher and I- it’s real. And I’ll do my best to take it one day at a time and never take a phone call, text or anything for granite. Sixteen years of my crazies and him having a hard time with my crazies (understandably) and me moving several times from one end of the country to the other.

I know that this is where I am supposed to be right now, but I am so looking forward to having my own place again. And hopefully one day (sooner rather than later) that place will also be Fisher’s place. But all of those hopes and dreams have to stay in my heart.

More mature, perspective, healthier, medicated. Appreciative that we could still fall in love again after everything. And everything encompasses a lot of ugly stuff. We’ve accentuated the positive, eliminated the negative and not messing with the in between.

I’m bummed that we’re apart right now, but I am so happy that he’s back in my life. Sixteen years ago I fell in love with him. I knew he was my soul mate. Even when I felt nothing when he loved me, he was still my soul mate. Accepting, funny, intelligent.

One time in a place where I am the store cat, MC and I talked about what kind of guy I would need to be with to make me happy. Some one that would challenge me to be a better person, with as much education as me, and someone who saw my quirks as an asset.

Maybe I’ve found that person.

For now, I work, go to school, attempt to hold my shit together and be a good person.

My sister, D*, has decided to end contact with my mom. I don’t blame her and when I’m on my own again, I might do that as well. L* won’t let me do that now, living with her and having her paying for my education kinda makes me her bitch in dealing with our mom.

We’ll visit my mom this weekend. It will be a difficult trip because of my mom’s mental state and she’ll no doubt say bad things about D*. That will be my breaking point. Hopefully, I’ll only be at my mom’s for a day and then drive over to see Fisher.

So many places I’d like to be, places and people that I would like to bring together to have them surround me. Fisher, MC, San Simeon.
MC- you are always in my heart. How can I not think of you when I have so many wonderful reminders that I have the pleasure of seeing everyday? I’ll be back again. Being there feels like home.

A rabbits den.

ADD/ADHD, dyslexia and phonological learning disability.

Welcome to my world.

All that stuff above, I can deal with. I’ve been dealing with it for 35 years. Now I have a center at my disposal that is an advocate for me. It’s like Christmas.

What I can’t handle is the rabbit hole I’ve fallen down in regards to my mom.

I will not go into further detail. I will tell you that it’s all very bad. Our realities over-lap and intertwine for most of us. For others reality exists in another realm, with another set of values. Getting a person back into the “real” reality is a difficult and harrowing experience. I had to let my father go, let him pass. My mom, I’ve been trying to hold onto her and it’s destroying me and my sisters.

Patience and Understanding

Loving and leaving

Amazing weekend spent with Fisher. One word- bunnies. Love the second half of my thirties. Love being with someone who accepts me for everything that I am.

And now I’ll pack my bag and in a few hours head north hoping that it won’t be until thanksgiving that we see each other next.

I want everything right now. No more waiting. Now. It won’t happen like that. Time will be spend apart from each other. Probably some more tears on my part. Some depression for him. The time we do have together is precious, we are completely focused on each other. A million times better than when I fell in love with him 16 years ago.

We drove past a the place where he first made me laugh out loud, a moment a treasure. It was at a lumber store. Crazy, huh? We were building a stump together for his production of a Midsummer Night’s Dream. It wasn’t until a few weeks later that I knew.

Kept in my heart, always hoping. Good times and some very hurtful times. Now I will treasure every moment with him and do my best to live in that moment. One day, one hour, one minute at a time.

For Fun

So, I've been finding mandalas to "paint" in Photoshop. Hence the earlier mandala. Using the pencil tool to outline and the paint bucket in larger areas to fill in color.  The one is in process:

How are a friend and an enemy alike?

First off, a victory of sorts- finally diagnosed with ADD. After 36 years of struggling to connect and swim through the knotted string in my head, I have some hope. Dear lord, please have my psychiatrist write out a script to give me a chance to see if meds will help. I don’t have the ability to work thru this on my own. Must needs help.

In other news, heading down to the college town after work sometime this afternoon to spend the weekend with Fisher. Boy, do I need a break from here. Since April I’ve been stuck in the ‘burbs with L*, K* and my pets. Need to get out. Well, L* and I did visit my mom back at the beginning of the summer, but trust me that doesn’t count as getting away.

Office at work is quiet. The boss gets back this coming Thursday. Classes start in 10 days.

I would love to be able to shake off this feeling of the sads, but it doesn’t work that way. I have a deficiency of happy endorphins. Normally, sitting down, chilling out, there’s no feeling of contentment. Do people have that? Feeling good when doing absolutely nothing?

I always got my happiness from other people. Other people specifically being boyfriends.  Being in love.

So, now I have to find a way through several avenues of being content on my own. Medication, therapy, applying emotional tools. Yay, for me.

Eve-o-lution of Emotion

Oh, noes, neither of the two people that know about my blog have looked at it in 5 days. My world! It’s crashing down all around me!

Finally cleaned out the last remnants of moving from my car. Found a journal that contained entries that I wrote to/about Fisher. Thought about rewriting them here. There’s really no point in that.

There was a chance he might drive up here this weekend- not happening. Too busy. I could drive down there next weekend, but his schedule might be to hectic. Fifteen years ago, maybe even four years ago, I would’ve driven down there anyway and shown up on his doorstep. I’m trying to have patience and understanding. Be a grown-up?

He’s really into me and I feel the same about him. And I’ve got a good therapist to keep me in line.

I have no grey hairs, but the hands of a fifty year old. True. Small, bony fingers, lots of creases.

Losing my mom to her mental illness accentuates my grief for my dad and grandmothers. My grandma, especially. She went through so much and still had an endless amount of love to give. She had her moments, but there was always love for my sisters and me.

My world is changing. How I look at my world is changing. What I value, how I love. Evolving.

When I was 19 I knew that Fisher was my soul mate. I am grateful that after 16 years, we are together again, but this time in a much better place. With perspective and experience I realize how much we care about each other.

Musings, although not especially existential

When I take medication for my anxiety, I’m not taking it just for myself, but because of my mom as well. I medicate more because she doesn’t medicate at all.

Just balled my eyes out at the end of watching Arthur. The new one. I have a soft spot for Russell Brand, so I liked it more than most.

All I have left of my summer classes is one final that I have to take by Tuesday at 10p. Then a few weeks off and then fall semester.

I have a job now. Working front office at single practice dental office. Fish out of water, trying not to drown.

L* and K* are leaving tomorrow to spend a few days in America’s hat and then onto the only state that really has an upstate.

Still ironing out details when I’ll be able to visit Fisher.

This is all such sh*t. What to actually be sad about and what is left over. Dealing with not being able to deal with my mom. Oh, look, she’s falling off a cliff and there’s nothing I can do until she hits the bottom.

There are people worse off than I am. People that have gone through worse, but are dealing with it better. How do people do that- go through something terribly awful and continue on as productive members of society. Death of children, witnessing a horrible tragedy, rape- how do you deal. How do you not give up?

I wish that I had made peace with my dad when he was healthy. I made peace with him because that’s what you do with the dying. You forgive. Why can’t we do that with the living?

american cheese singles

So, maybe is a good time to write or maybe it isn’t. Took two of my anxiety pills that make me sleepy. Maybe it will get the words flowing.

Having a hard time not letting my mom’s mental illness take me down. I feel the anxiety in my shoulders, always tense and even attempting to consciously trying to relax doesn’t work.

If it’s this hard for me to deal with this now, what’s it going to be like in the future? Will my therapy be able to keep up with her downfall? Or will it run right over me and pick me up like a snowball rolling down a hill. I’ll become a part of the mess; I’ll be indistinguishable from the illness that surrounds my mom. There’s not much left of my mom, her sanity is leaving and replaced by an alternate reality that only she sees. Our rules don’t work her in world, no one sees life the way she does.

It’s horribly depressing.

I have a high level of anxiety due to the fact that I never learned how to make myself feel ok. I look for other people to tell me that it will be ok, unable to believe myself. I’ll let you get close to me, if you tell me I’m doing good to prop me up.

It’s neither better to lose a parent through death nor mental illness. Both suck. Too watch a parent die or fade away, it sucks. Life is so trivial in the big scheme. My life in terms of all life- trivial. Life is too fucking short to be bogged down by shit. This is my only life, I want to be happy. Ok, so maybe rainbows and unicorns are too much to ask for, but how about smiles and kisses.

Missing Fisher. If it all works out, I’ll visit him in two weeks. He’ll be incredibly busy with rehearsal and no doubt grumpy when he comes home, but hopefully when we’re together it will be good.

The love a have for him is so intertwined with who I am. “You and I have memories, Longer than the road that stretches out ahead” ~Beatles.

What an effin’ job to figure out how to manage anxiety that’s been accumulating for roughly 36 years. 36 years of needing my parents to tell me whatever I needed to hear. And now I’m out of luck. Dad’s dead, Mom has lost her marbles.

So, I get to head down this road myself. Finding out how to make myself happy by myself. Just me. No validation from the peanut gallery. No boyfriend to beg for love. How about I just stay in bed?

Going forward with therapy I want to know what I’m going through. I thought I had dependency issues. Nope, I have built up anxiety. My dad ran away after the divorce, well my mom kinda chased him away. I was freaked out that I would lose her too. That she would drop me off with my grandma or an aunt and I was afraid that she'd never come back. She worked full time and took care of three girls. A teenager, a tween and me, the baby. I was potty training when my parents separated. I have vague memories of my little toilet sitting next to the big toilet in bathroom. Thank god I have no memory of shitting my diaper.

What I do remember is that my sisters were rock solid for me. They dug in their heels and did their best to protect me. Sure, L* and I fought like it was WW3, but she was right there with me eating american cheese singles in the closet while our parents fought in the kitchen. I was angry, I took it on L*. Not even angry, more like confused and unsure.

mediocre

Seeing a therapist. Getting an opinion on me is good. What I see as an emotional dependency issue is probably actually deeply rooted anxiety. I search for external ways to find approval instead of finding the strength within myself.

I have an appointment next week to see a neuro-psychologist. Brain testing. The therapist said that she thinks I’ll be diagnosed with ADHD.

From the time I can remember, my brain hasn’t been helping me. I have a majority of the ADHD symptoms and if medication finally sets the noggin right, then so be it.

Yep, anxiety. Can’t relax, head isn’t clear, pre-occupied. Didn’t learn self coping mechanisms as a child, messed up now.

Lame post.

Parallel to the ground

Tonight I went for a walk with L* and K* and I wanted to say, “I miss Dad,” but the words didn’t come out. Maybe because I knew that L* would say that she missed him too.

My dad and I weren’t close, but there’s something about not having a father that makes me feel empty. My mom lost her mom at age 94 and I know she feels the same. Losing a parent means losing a part of yourself. You have memories, but it’s not the same.

A few days later

I went through a really bad funk for a few days. Seem to be better today. Stayed in bed until about 2:30pm. Didn’t push myself until my body was ready to get up and move on. It’s not a matter of being lazy, but allowing my body to take its time. Forcing myself will only result in more anxiety. Of course not forcing myself out leaves me less time to complete class work. Trying to do class work while in a funk is useless.

I have to give myself permission to regroup and hope that those around me understand. The most important thing for me when I’m having an episode of anxiety is to feel safe and not pushed. Facing the world in the middle of an anxiety episode will only make it worse, not take my mind off of it. A person that does not experience debilitating anxiety will not understand this. They will tell me to push through it or you’ll feel better if you go outside. No, no I won’t. Until I find the right medication to alleviate the symptoms of anxiety, then respecting my body is the only way to go.

On the relationship front, Fisher and I agree that long distant relationships suck. However, I seem to need more communication than him. Fuck if I know what’s going on his head. When we’re together, it’s awesome. Two people, one mind, that kinda stuff. But apart it gets all funky. We’ve been through this- for 15 freakin’ years. I need more than he’s able to give. Ok, yes, when we first started dating, I was obsessively needy in a very bad way. Now, I’d like for him to respond to my emails, which are 3 at max/week. How about a conversation to touch base once a week?

Sure, in a year maybe we’ll be able to live together. Facts are, though, that neither of us knows where we’ll be. I don’t like the idea of moving back to College Town, USA. Mental ickness. I’d like to get out of the Midwest. I’d love to go back to the west coast, but it’s so damn expensive. East coast might me ok, but I really do not like cold.

When I come out of it and I’m parallel to the ground, I feel stable. Why can’t I just stay this way? Where would I be if I weren’t fighting this sh*t? I’d be on Broadway putting my talents to use. The anxiety negates any artistic talent I have. And I have talent.

Checking In

I'm a little bit overcome right now and all the thoughts in my head are like knotted spaghetti.

Fisher and I are going to give it another go. He did make it up this past weekend. Long distance sucks, but being with him will make it worth it.

My cat, R*, went into an insulin seizure yesterday. His glucose level dropped to a very scary low number. I'll bring him home tomorrow. No insulin for him over the weekend and he'll go back to the vet on Monday for all day glucose monitoring.

We lost power Monday morning and we just got it back this evening. Hard to do on-line classes with no power. Even at the library it was difficult to concentrate.

Anything that has substance is bogged down in my head. Maybe it will make its way here.

All the money in the world

Not sure why I’m here. Here at 1am and here in this world. Took my dog, S*, to the vet the other day for a routine, rabies shot visit. Blood work shows elevated liver enzyme. She’s on antibiotics for two weeks. People and animals keep dying, so her having an infection freaks me out a bit. She’s my girl, my best friend. Sleeps at the foot of my bed, wakes up happy, goes to sleep happy.

My mom called me this evening. Her world is becoming more chaotic and I have no means to help her. We’ll just have to wait until she’s at the bottom and wants help.

Won 3/5 scrabble games with L* and K*. That never happens. For the past 35 years, I have never won at a board game against L*. She’s very competitive. It’s all in good fun, but she’s like, “what the hell?” And I’m like, fuck I don’t know, I just did what you guys did to win.

Haven’t heard from Fisher in about a month. Up until this Sunday I understood. Back to back shows, burnt out… The dates I gave him will be here very soon. Would be nice to have a firm yay or nay. But that’s what killed all of this before. I was never a priority. Well maybe when we first started dating.

I’d like to be some one’s priority when making plans. To have enough worth to someone that I’m taken into consideration when plans are made. That would be nice.

Saw Cirque’s Ova this evening. Made me miss lighting design. Something about theatre lighting, the texture that’s like a watercolor on heavy textured canvas. Like a plush pillow you want to spend a Sunday on. Awkward sentence. Maybe you know what I mean.

I wish the depression hadn’t sucked me down to having no ambition. I have/had the talent. I couldn’t clear the fog.

I would hate to think that he’s decided that it would be better that he didn’t come up and just isn’t telling me that. Or that there was line I crossed- like sending him a mix cd.

Christ on a f*cking cracker.

Need to sleep so that tomorrow I’m productive with doing homework.

M* A* B*-H*

Fuck this. Went to the head doc today- Pills for depression aren't working. Fall asleep at 3am, sleep for 10 hours, no drive, no ambition.

No ambian, wouldn't have minded clonopin. Got generic for ativan and that not doing shit. Took one, nothing, took another, nothing.

Shrink appt in 3 weeks.

Fuck at some point you have to let go of the person you're holding onto. I need to get my head on straight and figure out what's going on.

Pushing through school work, getting stuff done.

My soul, that place in your chest that feels so good when your in love and hurts like a m'fucker when it's broke. It's wilted. No get up and go.

For my reader(s) in Germany- thank you.

My great-great grandfather was Prussian. He came to the states around or after the Franco-Prussian War. He married a Protestant lady and our future contact with our Jewish roots ended. Emil Block. My great-grand father was first generation. And my maternal grandmother second generation. I miss my grandma quite a bit. It was always great to be around her. She was this force who spoke her mind, but was still caring. She went through a lot in her life, experience that hardened her. She always seem more optimistic than not and quick with a laugh. F' do I miss her.

So, there was a saying that her grandfather taught her and it translated to - you're some so dumb the geese would eat you.

I wish we would have written down the German words.

Although we're European mixed, we seem to run more UK and Germany.

Slightly dustier with a chance of panic.

It’s late, I’m awake. I could work on homework. Blah. Taking three on-line classes and it’s kinda kicking my butt. I hate writing papers. The end. And I hate memorizing. That’s why I was a good art student. Projects, make pretty things.

Now though, 35, unemployed, back in school. 100 level business class. Reading dry, boring textbooks. Unable to form complete sentences.

Seeing a psychiatrist next week. I need a touchstone. Not that I don’t love it here, but here won’t solve any problems.

So, I would like a family of my own. A nice, comfortable family consisting of a few furry beasts and a man. I don’t want that right now, but at some point in the medium future.

My hands are showing my age. Actually I think they look older than I actually am. My mom had these hands when she was in her late 40s and now I have them 10 years too soon.

Draw a horizontal line. Label it content. Somewhere above the line is manic, way down below is severe depression. I never get above that horizontal line. Let’s say severe depression, the worst is a -10. I average a -2. Right now I’m a -3, sometimes almost -4. Occasionally I get on the positive side.

Used to be, in my early 20s I held onto pain and anger, afraid that if I let go, then I would float away. Now, it’s different. It’s age and experience weighing me down. Oh, and present situations. Now, I float between -2 and slightly over zero. I float wrapped in a blanket. I warm cozy blanket that induces sleep. Want to crawl into bed and stay there.

My bed is my safe place. My happy place. The world does not exist when I am in my bed. A floating raft of safety and calm. Can’t hurt me in my bed. That’s not true, but I like the idea.

Funny that because I can’t fall asleep during normal sleepy hours. Bring on the daytime sleeping. I feel safer falling asleep in the day. My mind isn’t as noisy. At night too many not all together content thing wander through my head. Slightly dustier with a chance of panic.

Old Enough

I’m old enough to learn from my mistakes- I will do that.

I am old enough to know that reacting the same over and over again to the same situation will not change the outcome.

I am old enough to know that my love for myself must be more important than my lust for anyone.

I am old enough that sometimes a door must stay shut. Nothing has changed behind that door. The contents are the same. Repaint the door, put on a kick plate, a fancy door knocker. The contents are the same.

Growing up sucks. I will do my best to have as few regrets as possible. If I love, I will be honest in my love. At some point having too many regrets about the same thing is just douchery. Dumbass-ness.

No good can come of that.

My id has a nemesis and last night my ego decided to dream about this person. If I were to see this person out and about, I would try to beat the crap out of her. My hatred runs that deep. Strange since I was willing to forgive her co-conspirator.

My last boyfriend cheated on me with his best friend’s girlfriend. Thinking about all of that makes me sick to my stomach. The fact that I accepted his excuses makes me even sicker. And it took me two and a half years to leave him. I didn’t try to convince him or myself that I was in love with him after he cheated. I carried on because I didn’t have it in me to uproot my life. Sad but true- I stayed for my dog and cats. Staying meant a bigger apartment instead of moving into a hole in the wall by myself or moving back to the Midwest.

When the sh*t hit the fan, I had three cats and my dog, my sister, who I now live with, had two dogs and a cat, plus husband. I couldn’t do it. But over time I gathered my strength. I kept track of his assery. Each time he was a douche, I filed it away in the folder marked, “this is why I’m leaving.” Moving out sucked, but I remembered all those times he was an ass.

Funny, now the nemesis has a kid with her then boyfriend and from all f*cebook stalking accounts, they are still together. She got pregnant 3-4 months after the cheating.

So, last night I dreamt about this chick. And it’s a vivid dream with lots of emotion and he’s there too. Anger, betrayal. Not having the full ability to kick the crap out of both of them. Now because of the dream she’s in my mind eye and it makes me sick. I wish a could mentally vomit her out of my mind. Thank god she was never a friend of mine.

The last boyfriend and I were together for four years. My longest continuous relationship. Walking away and staying quiet is a challenge. I want to yell at him, but calling him is a can of worms that needs to stay shut. No good can come from that.

So, what do I do? I dig up older skeletons.

From One Side to the Other

At a meeting about meetings. Today I'm in the audience- two months ago I was sitting behind a drape behind a computer wondering how much time was left. Clothes are different, attitude not so much. I'm so used to moving around and putting out fires that sitting in one spot for longer than thirty minutes isn't easy.

Now I'm on a train to head home.

My sister will probably make the decision to put her dog to sleep today.

We went down to my mom's this weekend. If anyone has any experience dealing with parents and mental illness I'd love to get some advice.

Usually I have pretty bad nightmares after visiting her. It's stressful seeing how she's not taking care of herself.

There's a woman on the train playing a game that making mustard squeezing noises. Or very crudely wet farting noises.

One month until hopefully I'll see fisher. Driving to and from my mom's we came within 45 minutes of where he lives. It's probably best that I don't have the money to visit him. For one he's in rehearsal for the show that opens soon. Second, because I've been a little crazy in the past and having set the time to visit me is just better. I'll have to decide to pining for him is worth it, if he decides he can't visit.

Later that same night-
K* lived a long and happy life. My sister gave her the best life possible. It is a sad day.

Let go of your anger. It will not save you. Anger eats at you from the inside. Enjoy life and be happy.

Exposition

By all accounts I should be asleep right now or at least attempting to fall asleep. Failing on both counts.

Within the next few weeks, my sister will have to decide when to put her dog to sleep. As you can imagine we are all very sad about this. The decision to end a pet’s life is not an easy one in our family. I hug K* and try to commit to memory her soft fur and regal look. She’s lived thirteen wonderful years, my sister has rightly spoiled her. She’s a great dog. For being a large full bred dog she has lived fully into her senior years.

A year ago I had to make that decision for one of my cats. She was my first pet. Not a family pet, but mine. It’s a terrible decision to make and one based on mercy. The thought of an animal or person not existing any more upsets me. Since my dad’s death I’ve thought a lot about my existence and what to do with it. The mindset of martyrs and those that are willing to sacrifice his or her own for a cause is not something I understand.

For what would I trade my life?

Death is always moving closer. Taking those around me until it finds me. Here I am doing my thing, getting older and one day I won’t. I keep thinking that somewhere inside my brain that I know what comes next. Knowledge that is locked away.

More evidence should exist that life is precious. It should not be spent fighting or filled with anger or hate. We are here for such a short amount of time.

Time needs to slow down. When my dad was my age his life was half way over.

This is all so depressing.

Tomorrow my sister and I will drive south to visit my mom. Bring on the depression.

Bunch of random crap knocking around in my head. And I’m sitting still making no progress.

This is so not interesting to anyone, not even me.

Seeking Nirvana

So, there’s some stuff that I need to get off my chest and face before the soul mate visits…

In the winter of 2000, while visiting my family at Christmas, I visited Fisher in College Town, USA. When I got to his apartment he had a rose for me. He was outwardly in love with me.

I freaked out. At least on the inside. Any feelings, love/hate, went away. I felt nothing. We talked and I couldn’t get nearer than five feet to him. I was numb. Finally getting what I always wanted, being the object of his affection and I couldn’t return the favor.

We hung out, talked, listened to music. I think I may have even spent the night there. As you could assume, nothing happened. Somehow he ended up driving me to the airport when I left to return to grad school. I asked him to visit me in the desert. I wanted him to show me that he loved me. Fisher drove three days to the desert. When he got there and I couldn’t kiss him. In bed I rolled away from him.

He never kissed me and I wish he would have. Maybe it would have broken the spell.

I’m freaked out that I’ll do that again.  Somehow I have to get my mind right. Usually that involves visualization. Used to be that I would always picture myself in the future. In my mind's eye I would already be gone, but still physically sitting in a chair.

I’ve learned to use it as a tool. Off to do something unfamiliar- like moving in with my sister. I pictured myself living in her house. Soon after picturing myself there in my minds eye it became a concrete memory.

I had a crazy dream last night. How is that in your dreams the id and ego exist separately? Or is that conscious vs subconscious? Anyway there was a person in my dream that I connected with on a very deep level. The connection felt real. I’m always amazed at the realness of dreams. Crying in dreams and waking up crying. The physical manifestation of dreams.

Some might say that I over think my life. The Buddha did a lot of thinking and look where that got him- Nirvana. I’d like a piece of that.

A nice inner calm. No matter what, everything will be ok.

Herp-Derpy

First off, thank you for the comments of encouragement.

And secondly, I am giddy with anticipation. For those of you that know me, I’ll give you a moment to picture that.

(moment)

For those of you that don’t know me outside of this, my friends would not describe me as usually giddy. Even after several drinks.

Talked to Fisher this afternoon. He called me (yay.) And he’ll be able to visit during the dates that my sister and her husband are out of town.

No, I’m not giddy. Anxious. Herp-derpy? Lack of coordination because I’m nervous and have butterflies in my stomach.

Overcome. Being able to talk to him face-to-face about all that has happened. Being able to share what I went through watching my father die. There’s no doubt in my mind that he will be attentive.

Since forever, all I’ve wanted is for that special someone to kiss me on the forehead and tell me that everything will be ok. Neither of my parents told me this. Early on my mom told me that life wasn’t fair and my dad told that boys and girls are different. Masters of advice and comfort, not so much. I’m pretty happy with how I’ve turned out, so my mom did a decent job setting me forth on my path. My dad just wasn’t meant to be a dad, much like I’m not meant to be a parent. Neither my dad nor I are very patient.

I have a terrible habit of interrupting people in conversation. Like what I have to say or ask is more important than anything they could possibly be discussing. Aware and working on it.

Back to make it all better, please- I want everything to be ok. For me that means unconditional love. A person that will hug me at the end of a crappy day and be my happy place. For better or worse- we’ll be ok. There’s something solid about being ok. More like all right, but it doesn’t fall off the tongue like “make it all ok.”

Unconditional (except for major acts of stupidity) love. Cheating not ok. Despite how long a stuck around in my last relationship- it’s never ok to cheat. Maybe if I was in a coma, never to recover or incapacitated in a major, not gonna get better kinda way.

I’m having a case of the herp-derps tonight. I am beat. Tired. Kapoot. And I need to clime into bed, turn out the light and sleep. No thinking or playing games on my i-pod, just give into the sleep.


I have sleep anxiety. Have I mentioned that?

Later

Id vs Ego

I just geeked out by making a mix cd for the Fisher King. Mix tape sounds so much better, but then I remember tapes and how much went into making a good mix tape. There was no drag, drop and burn. More like a bunch of curse words, mixed with forward, reverse, pause, flip tape, get more tapes…

Anyway, I had fun putting together the play list insert and cd design. I always get a little manic when I’m being crafty. Sewing, photoshop, paper- manic. I guess it’s those creative juices bubbling over.

I don’t know why I go over the top and out of my way for guys that I’m not even dating. For all I know, once again, this will not work out. Six hours away, he’s too busy, I’m taking classes and broke. We lived together for about six weeks about ten years ago. Have a lost my mind? I’m talking about a guy that I lived with ten years ago for a whopping six weeks, not even two months. Go ahead, shake your head, it’s ok.

But here’s the rub- My id keeps putting him in my dreams. Yes, I know dreams are a lot of times a bundle of gobbledy-goop that has no real meaning. For me dreams seem to be a mixture of stuff that went into the noggin during the day plus memories and some fears and desires mixed in for good measure. However, there are two people outside of my immediate family that are reoccurring figures- Fisher and a cousin.

In my dreams both Fisher and the cousin are destinations that I’m trying to reach. Only they can save me or with the Fisher sometimes I must save him. More often than not the cousin is salvation, a person to protect me and the Fisher, a victim that I must save. You see, Fisher isn’t happy. Happy on the outside, picture of vaudevillian health to all around him, but brooding inside. Makes me wonder if all comedic actors are that way- tortured.

The cousin- let me explain. In my formative years I spent a great deal of time on my uncle's (by marriage) farm. My uncle has five sons, my cousins. The youngest, five years older than me, was my nemesis, but also kinda my hero. I was a tomboy and he was able to do all the stuff that I wanted to do. He once took me for a ride on his dirt bike- highlight of my childhood. We played doctor where the object wasn’t sexual exploration, but testing reflexes and inflicting pain.

Up until my grandmother’s funeral a year ago this past December, I hadn’t seen him in 28 years or so. However, when my dad’s mom died in Feb of 2007 I started to dream about him, consistently. So here’s this person that I haven’t seen in ages and he’s become a central figure in my dreams. And I knew that the next time I would see him would be at my mom’s mom’s funeral and to boot- it would be the last time I would see him.

And I did see him at my grandmother’s funeral in Dec ’10. He had changed quite a bit and I wouldn’t have recognized him if he hadn’t been pointed out to me. Growing up he was very cute, I was infatuated with him. As a grown adult he has lost most of his hair and the boy-ish good looks. I gave him a hug and that was it. No life changing moment by seeing him again, seeing him for what I know to be the last time.

And I still dream about him. He’s older, but with his boyish good looks. The dreams aren’t terribly sexual, but I guess he would be described as a romantic figure in my dreams. Side note- my mom thought that something had occurred between me and my cousin- nope. I hope she believed me when I said that it hadn’t. Yes, she asked me. I went through I really tough time when I was in middle school, bad case of agoraphobia. Not getting into that now. However, my mom has her own demons, that aren’t under control and she likes to form her own reality.

F*ckin’  Midwest weather patterns are killing me. Allergies mess up sinuses, sinus pressure causes headaches that may or may not be migraines. Regardless of classification, they suck and I’m getting them almost every other day. I took a muscle relaxer a little bit ago, so soon I’ll get loopy from that. Nice.

I am giddy about Fisher visiting. He’s in one more show the ends next month and then my sister and her husband will be out of town and I’m hoping he’ll visit then. Of course my head could do me in and I’ll see him and not feel a thing. That’s happened twice, his visit to the desert and and four years ago when he came down to see me when I lived by the ocean. Please, for the love that is all holy and sacred, let me look at him and want to jump him. You can pray for me, too, I won’t be offended. Dear Lord, let this anonymous blogger be attracted to her soul mate, let her want to rock his world.

Was that too much info, dear friend who knows about this site?

Dear good friend, who needs a name- my Buddha? Yes, you will be my Buddha.

This is plenty for tonight, gentle readers. 'night.

Variations on a Theme

Listening to Neko Case- Middle Cyclone (album)

 The Fisher King, my obsession. He probably pushed me away because I was a little over the top and well, would’ve been the typical crazy ex-girlfriend. Surprisingly I never had the cops called on me. Did some stuff that deserved a good stern talking to by some authority figures. I couldn’t stop myself; it was like a train wreck that couldn’t be stopped.

I get like that when I’m angry. The angry part takes over and I have to do what my mind is set on doing. Most of the time the doing is not healthy or helpful. Right now, I must do this right now. It feels like tunnel vision and I have no alternative. Once the spell is broken, usually by finally reaching the object of my bullet, I feel really stupid by having made such a big deal out of it.

I once asked the Fisher King to drive from College Town, USA to the desert to see me. A three-day car trip in the winter. When he got there I was a complete putz and had to tell him that I didn’t love him. I was so enamored with him finally admitting that he loved me that I ignored the fact that I didn’t have feelings for him. He wanted so much to kiss me and I put him off. There were so many days when we first dating that I wanted him to say that he loved me. He would push me away and I would wait and wait, hoping that he would say it was all a mistake. So, maybe I needed him to drive there and back, but it wrong.

I used him to make me feel better. And all I did was hurt him and I felt lousy.

The relationship I just ended, too soon to talk about. I hope he finds happiness. I hope he finds the girl, the one he’ll actually be in love with and not me, who he settled for.

I think I’m better at being introspective late at night than at dinner time.

The Day after the First

He has always been a slow burning obsession. Always there, in my dreams. We’ve kept in touch over the years. Getting together long enough to hurt each other and then shooting off like sparks traveling away from two metal pieces that are hurled at each other. It’s always been long distance. Him in College Town, USA- me like a spoke on a wheel around his axis point.

Speaking to him makes everything ok. Suddenly all the worry and anxiety that consumes me like fire is extinguished. And all I want is to return to that place with him where I felt safest. Drinking red wine, smoking some pot and playing cards. I feel like he knows me inside and out. Knowing me like I wish I new myself. Yeah, it’s that bad.

Occasionally I’ll fall for someone else. I become consumed with the start of a new relationship. The time where it’s all passion and it hasn’t become stale. When flirting and dating combine. Where you anticipate being with each other. Nights are planned and not taken for granted. When the passion seeps into the everyday ordinary, I become restless. And I start thinking of him again, my Fisher King.

I know we’ve both changed. I’m a slightly calmer person thanks in large part to drugs and in some part to experience. He’s gotten older, maybe older than I think. If only he would take time for himself, but no he goes on and agrees to help all. A Mother Theresa of the Acting World.

God, I’m so stuck. Mud – me, Me – mud. Stuck. I need to get a job, but doing nothing consumes me. So, nice to stay up late and sleep in. But money equals independence and the ability to buy stuff.

The Very First One

The time is 2:34am. Perhaps that will show up somewhere else to let you know that. Only slightly important to show that I stay up later than I should. I'm not necessarily a night owl, however past jobs have been this late and I find it hard to turn off my brain and fall asleep.

Should I get the big stuff out of the way first?

Sure. I have a fear of death. An awful phobia that causes me to lose sleep, hurumph, and terrible panic attacks that raise my body temperature. I don't want to not exist. I like existing in the world around me. For better or worse, I'd rather be alive. Blessed with depression and anxiety, I have never seriously contemplated suicide. Wondered in a vague, abstract way, wished for a better life, sure. But end it- No.

A year ago this past March my sisters and I lost our father. Three months prior we lost our last surviving grandparent, my mother's mother. Now I'm down to a parent and two sisters. My grandfathers died when I was young. I have very vague memories of my dad's dad and slightly more substantial ones of my mom's dad. I'm hoping for a long healthy life. Although, how healthy I've been up to this point is debatable. I like to think that I'm getting all my senior ailments out of the way.

Now though, Fear of Death and Lovelorn.

I'm quite awake for the hour, so I'll continue.

Ideally this is all anonymous and for my own musings-- details with out the names.

I'm 35 and unemployed of my own doing. I now live with my sister and her husband along with my two cats, my dog and her very old hound that no doubt won't last through the summer. I'm camping out in a spare room and in few weeks will start taking some online classes. The plan is to get a certificate that goes well with the useless MFA and BA that I already have.

Starting to feel the tired...

I moved from a very warm climate to a much colder, inclement one. I like warm weather. The past 13 or so years I've lived in the southern half of the US. No terrible winters, only one place even had ice and even then not on roads. Wearing Birkenstocks year round is my ideal. However, I don't wear shorts, unless I'm at the beach or bike riding. 80 degress- pants. 95 degrees- pants. Lightweight sure, but pants.

This isn't at all interesting. Is it? I should rejoice in my normality. My blog is like everyone else's. Yay!

Personal life- bleeding heart, wishing for happy ever after, little girl whose parents separated when I was 3 and divorced when I was 5. Separation anxiety issues.

I fell in love for the first time at 19. And for the past 16 years, he's always been in my heart. I have never felt that fierce love for anyone since. Now I realize I was 19, not emotionally stable and he was the first in all ways. You don't forget your first, so I'm told. No regrets, I was in love.

I wasn't stable, though and neither was the relationship. He is ten years older than I. I was 19, an undergrad, living in the dorms and he was working full time and close to 30. This guy, Fisher (name changed), was in love with me or at least enamored to a great existent, but he didn't want to be. Even after talking to him years later, I'm not quite sure why he pushed me away and then sucked me back in. If he was afraid that I would stay in College Town, USA and not live up to my full artistic potential, well I left and still didn't.

His sense of humor pulled me in and caused me to fall in love with him. Amazing actor and director, funny as hell and passionate. Dark and broody, intellectual and just all around cool. F*ck I miss him. And now that I'm six hours away from him and not six states all I want is show up on his doorstep. I hug, a kiss- what that would do to heal old wounds.

So, not good at healing my own.