Happy Holidays

It's been a while and I have been thinking a lot. Bad things, good things, stupid things and I gotta get my shit together things. Based on advice from a good friend who believes that chemicals can balance thoughts, I went to the doctor. Lo and behold I am on new meds that are still charging up in my system but I already feel a little more balanced.

So Christmas is coming the goose is getting fat, and I am putting a penny in the old mans hat. Thank you Mr D for being there.

Screw it

I'm done.

I don't get it...

Or, maybe I do, I'm not sure. Is it the medium or is it the gender? I'd like to think it's the medium and believe that there are some really great men out there somewhere. But, I'm jaded and lost my sense of trust a while ago. Even tho I want to believe, the realist in me is saying "what! are ya crazy?!".

Maybe it's just the genes, a hereditary trait, something that you can't get beyond because it's inherent in you, you're born with it (oh another long sentence).

I'm talking about the belief that the people we choose to befriend, love, want in our lives are good. They are not out to hurt, their intentions are good, honorable. They are as truthful to you as you are to them. My daughter and I have that gene, we inherited the optimist view of friendship.

Man oh man... when will we learn that it is a flaw? A flaw we need to overcome, over compensate for with distrust, disbelieve, suspect, doubt. And not ourselves, but all we come in contact with.

She got a call from a "girlfriend" today. Not her girlfriend, the girlfriend of a guy she's been seeing. A girl that said "you know I'm living with him". My daughter didn't have a clue, had no idea a girlfriend was involved, a live in one at that. What is it with men? What is it with us?

Seriously, what have we done to deserve to be treated so crappy?

Oh oh oh!! There I go again, somehow I always twist it to be our fault, we deserve to be lied to, we aren't worthy of the truth. Where did that come from? Why do I think that?

She didn't get angry, she got sad. She berated herself for not knowing, for trusting, believing that he was telling the truth. She is so like her mother.

How can I help her to break this cycle?

I told here it wasn't her. She was lucky to find out now, not years down the road. She should be glad she's not the woman that he is supposedly committed to. What kind of commitment is that? How hurtful would it be to be on the other side of the lie?

I wish someone could explain to me how men can justify this is their head. How they can look at themselves in the mirror and not feel a little bad. What are they thinking? Are we somehow less than they are? If I could just get a little glimpse of the thought process maybe I could help her to learn, grow, get past, be smarter of those she chooses to give a piece of herself to.

Yeah... well...

It's raining and cold, I had heard it was supposed to get warmer. What is it about the weather, that it has such a big effect on moods? You'd think if we can send a man to the moon and a rover to Mars we would be able to create happy lights that could go in all of our light sockets. We would be able to adjust our own personal sunlight, stay warm and have a little color in our skin. Maybe moonglow lights that could fit in as well, set the romantic stage when the mood strikes.

Maybe there are such things. I need to do some reseach on lighting and color. Or, maybe I need to get my shit together, cancel crap I can't afford, meet with a financial advisor and stay away from those that can't ask a simple question "how are you doing?".

Generally I can see a light at the end of the tunnel. Usually a few days and I am ok. This time the clouds aren’t lifting, it just keeps getting darker. I'm obsessing on actions that have only been fleeting thoughts in the past. I know better, I know that anything permanent will cause hurt that I will never be able to repair. Then again, how much longer can I continue to live with such sadness, anger, disappointment? How much longer will my brain hold out without blowing to little bits by itself? How much longer will my heart continue to beat before it explodes from pain?

I feel ugly, stupid, worthless. I built a relationship around something that doesn't exist. Someone that was never there and never could be. I should have been careful, I should have trusted my instincts and not pursued something I knew in my heart to be crazy.

That crazy relationship helped me to maintain some normalcy in my life. My belief that it was real, kept me ok. I felt that I was needed, loved. Not out of obligation but because of who I was. I wasn't his mother, sister, child, I wasn't a part of his family. I was something else, I thought was important to him.

I have always been a little on the edge, clinging to sanity with all my might. Always looking for acceptance, approval, unable to see any good in myself. Trying to stay away from the dark side. Always wanting someone else to validate my existence. If someone else acknowledges it, it must be true, right? But if the one person that I believed, the one person that didn't have to love me, became a lie themselves, where am I now? What should I believe? Who should I believe?

In the past drugs, alcohol, sex, would come to my rescue. They would dilute my darkness, make life tolerable for a moment. Sometimes that's all I needed, a moment, one little piece of, what seemed like, happiness to me. I don’t have anything to numb my feelings. They sit here on my skin, behind my eyes, in my brain, raw and festering. I want to scratch them away, tear them out, I don't want to feel anymore. The hurt is too intense, uncontrollable, intolerable.

I am exhausted and I am sleeping. I sleep like I have never slept before. I can’t blame my darkness on insomnia, my mind is able to rest and I still wake up in my black hole. I know that my future is bleak because of my past. I can’t get a grip on my finances and I'm drowning. My debt is insurmountable and it's just a matter of time before I start losing the material things that gave me some semblance.

I don't blame anyone, this is all my doing. Ultimately I am responsible for my feelings and actions. My life is no ones fault but my own.

The black hole

I'm there again, I'm in the black hole, I can't see anything I only feel hurt, beaten, so unbelievably sad. I can only think dark dreary things. I'm trying to talk myself out of it, my words are falling on deaf ears.

I'm thinking if I type maybe my eyes will catch on and I can start my way back out of this place.

Reading my sadness just makes me sadder.

I am exhausted but not to a point of sleep. As much as I want to sleep and wake up happy, I don't want to miss the few minutes of daylight.

I'm afraid of the dark.

HAPPY BIRTHDAY!!!!

You are so very special to me and I am very happy you are a part of my life.

I was thinking it was 4 years I've been wishing you Happy Birthday, I guess it's only 3! I am thrilled for your day and can't wait for updates from my very own "poll watcher".

Huh?

My tooth hurts. I need to go to the dentist but I'm afraid he'll yell at me. I have been fairly diligent in taking care of my teeth this past decade. Unfortunately it doesn't matter, teeth age and do things that can't be fixed without a gazillion dollars. I don’t have enough to cover essentials, so my teeth are just going to have to wait. That seems so gross to me. I am considering doing something I KNOW isn't good to avoid yucky teeth. Then again, maybe I have to do what I'm thinking to stay healthy.

Oh my mind, what a wonderful, complex organ. One that very few understand or even want to. Not that it can be understood, maybe tolerated is a better word. My ups and downs, in's and out's. I claim nothing is black and white, that the gray matter is what the majority of my thinking is, it matches the matter it's made of. But I am a stickler, I have expectations, I want things to be my way or it's the highway. How grey is that thinking?

I have to change health plans so I cover Spencer in 2009. I'm going from an HMO to a PPO. Monthly costs are less and if your relatively healthy it's a good thing. I feel like I'm rolling the dice and the odds are stacked against me. Considering my health habits and my age I'm not in a position to be throwing dice. I need to tie up some loose ends with my current health plan before I go to the gazillion dollar deductible plan that will stop me from taking care of me because I fear the cost more than I fear the reaper. Now that was a long sentence.

I keep thinking all of these challenges come my way for a reason. Change my self destructive ways, take care of myself, own up to my past, move on and up (or, over).

I have no coping skills. I never learned to find fixes in real life, I only learned to run away. At work, I find and implement solutions to issues. I thrive on conflict and craziness at work. I can deal with system issues, people crap and corporate red tape. It's my personal life that confuses me. I can’t see anything to completion, not even painting walls. I'm not one of those that has 15 projects going and it's obvious chaos. It's a more subtle chaos, a line along the ceiling that was too far for me to reach and no one would notice unless I pointed it out. Which of course I do, I am always forthcoming with my shortcomings. I'm too afraid someone will notice and think I don’t know. So I make sure they know that I know. My mind swirls with things I have no control over and I wonder why I can't get a handle on my life.

What's my point? I don't have one. I am simply recognizing my issues and think it's a first step to doing something about them. Hopefully that one step isn't a drop off into the deep end of the ocean.

I need a list, at least a top 10 of what I want to accomplish the first 6 months of 09. Maybe if I post that list, make it real, I can make it happen. They don’t have be done in the order written they just have to get done. They have to be realistic goals, no trips to the moon for me. Maybe a day trip to Chicago, now that's doable. A train trip, no driving, get on the train get off the train, walk around, get back on the train, get off the train. I can do that, seriously.

What's worthy of my top ten list? If I think too much about it I will get overwhelmed and not do it at all. So maybe one of the things on my list is to create a list. Wow, 1 down 9 to go, that was easy!
_________________________________________________

Cheating

I have created a door that opens into my mind. That open door allows others to know what is going on in my mind, without hearing my voice. I'm not sure that I like that. It's allowing someone to cheat, know what I'm thinking, in a shortcut way. There aren't any calls to see "what's up". My phone isn't ringing and my voice is given only to a few that I don't really want to give it to (with the exception of my kids).

Maybe the blog isn't such a good idea. I don't believe anyone else is reading, but the one that I want to ring me up. Or, maybe not. Maybe, I am the only one that reads these words, I think, I type, I read for me, myself and I.

Then again, it has been a really busy time (hello election) and a milestone birthday is coming up. Election will end and another year begins on Nov 4th. How cools is that, to have 2 things to celebrate all wrapped up in one day (as long as our candidate wins)? Oh yeah, you also have a girlfriend that has all of you, mind, body and spirit. You're just a busy guy with a few plates spinning.

Then again, it could be that I can't talk. The phone has become just another thing I have to do. I have to answer, I have to talk, I feel like I have to pretend to be happy.

Oh well...it's not as though my life is all that fascinating, or my opinions are worth the breath they take to voice, I am not a happy person.

Sarah left today for Minnesota. Her temp job was just that, temporary, a whole 3 weeks. Her last day was Friday, they called her when she got home from work to let her know she didn't need to come back. She burst into tears and said "I need to go home". Then I burst into tears.

I knew I couldn't drive her, 16 hours round trip and 1000 miles was more than I could do. Even with gas at 2.24 I still couldn't afford the trip. We checked flights (what the heck), then we checked the train. Booked the ticket and I watched her board the Empire Builder route this morning to her "home".

Tears are coming out of my eyes and running down my cheeks as I type this. I am afraid she won't come back. Which I will totally understand, I wouldn't come back either. My fear is being alone again. Life is just not good and there are times when I don't think clearly. I'm afraid that my thoughts will overtake me and I will do something that I won't be able to recover from. Maybe I have already done the unrecoverable, and she is saving herself.

Man, it sounds like I am somewhat self aware and if that's so, I should take steps to make sure I stay on an even keel (as even as I can) Do some preemptive strikes, get help while I am thinking clearly. Unfortunately that's not me. Instead I will take a hot bath, take my pills, wish I was somewhere (someone) else, go to sleep obsessing over the call that was too short, get up, go to work and start my groundhog day, week, all over again.

Maybe I'll make some brownies or cookies or pudding and add some ice cream, I already went shopping today.

Lone Ranger

Another day of contemplation and no action. I think I need a date and some sex. Maybe just a date, or maybe just some sex. Or, maybe I need to get drunk or high. I need to go back to some of my self destructive habits. I know I haven't given up the fiscal irresponsibility which provided me with little highs of happiness with purchases. However when I shop it doesn't make me laugh till my guts hurt.

Honestly I haven't had a really good laugh in a long time. I've had some little laughs and chuckles here and there but nothing where I choke, sputter and pee my pants. Man oh man, the good old days!

Speaking of peeing my pants... I need to test my bladder surgery/sling thing. A good laugh would be a great test.

I tell you this delusional world I live in is so real to me. There are times when the world is crashing in on me, then suddenly the sun comes out and I think it will be ok. Ok, that is, until the next bill arrives then the cycle starts all over again. Talk about peaks and valleys!

Someone to watch over me

I need a guiding hand. One that will take mine and guide me to the areas of change that have to occur. He would be my change agent. I can't think straight, I am all over the place, my brain tells me something, my body does something different. Nothing has changed since yesterday. No movement on my part to meet with the bank to try and negotiate. I haven't shut down my cable or phone. I walk through my day scared shitless of the phone ringing, that someone will actually get through. I try to do things that are productive. I should be at the bank, I should be applying for jobs, I should be in counseling. I should be screaming at the top of my lungs what a fuck up I am.

Oh well... What can I do... pills are washed down my throat and my pillow is calling.

My Great Escape

If you really love me. won't you tell me. If really need me, won't you tell me, than I won't have to be hanging around. When your mood is clear than you quickly change your ways. (these were words of a song I happened to be listening to,no hidden message or blatant one for that matter)

My point exactly! (it will never make sense)

Exxon Mobile posts biggest US quarterly profit ever

comforting

I needed a more comforting visual for my blog/journal/thoughts and words. I needed something easy on my eyes and one that made me want to participate. I am testing this one today. Yesterday was a hard day. I don't see today as much better. The weather is beautiful, a perfect fall day. I am going to try and occupy myself with busy work. Work that makes my mind think of 'shoes and ships and sealing wax, of cabbages and kings and why the sea is boiling hot and whether pigs have wigs' (sweet words from a sweet story).

Rock Bottom?

I may have finally fallen into the depths of "rock bottom". My 90 day supply of sleeping pills keeps calling my name, keeps reminding me over and over that I am in a hole so deep I will never get out, there's no one for me at the top anyway, just stay, just sleep, it will all go away. Oh how I am drawn to his logic, it makes so much sense. This life provides me nothing but challenge, sadness and a sense of worthlessness I can seem to get past. My "friends" only hurt me, maybe they are slights that aren't intentional, they are imagined only in my mind. No matter they are real to me. I have a sad daughter, now a sad son and a very very angry ex that is making threats to take me back to court, rightfully so. I have not been paying him money for my son that lives with him. For 3 years I was steady eddie, paid the phone bill, all of the kids school costs, clothes and 600 on top of that to him. This past year I am drowning in debt. I can't even make my minimum payments and I am sinking lower and lower. I can't answer my phone, services are getting cut off and I am slowly turning into mush. Unable to cope, think, move one foot in front of the other. I am just waiting for it all to come crashing, swallowing me whole. Everyone would be so much better off, dead mom is worth more than a live one. And the live one was more depressed than anyone can handle. Let's get past me so they can get on with their lives.

Cleaning frenzy for the socially inept

My child was spending the week-end with a new beau (just one of a few) and I am home alone. Rather than an adventure that might make millions at the theaters, I have been cleaning like a fool.

Carpet cleaning, upstairs, downstairs even the stairs themselves. I almost went for the upholstery but I ran out of time. I have to work in the morning so I need to rest for a little while.

I tried to be social on Friday, went to a happy hour with some work folks. I am so out of touch with the real world. My people contact is limited to work and running through grocery aisles. I avoid eye contact and mumble my words to those that I have to talk to.

I am beginning to scare myself with the lonerness that I am imposing on myself. I used to embrace just me myself and I. I would relish my time alone and enjoy my peace and quiet.

Now I find myself afraid of social situations. Afraid that I will say what I really want to say to people that I don't really want to talk to in the first place. The older I get the less control I have of my tongue. If it's ugly and stinks I will say so, not thinking that it might hurt. Yet I am incredibly sensitive to others comments, I find slight where none is intended.

If I were to win the lottery (granted I would have to buy a ticket first) I would want to buy a deserted island and have a pilot fly in every so often to bring me supplies (and maybe a conversation, but only with the pilot).

The dog messed up my bed

He got a bath, lost his mind and tore up my made bed. He is a monster! If he wasn't so cute, and didn't have sweet moments I think I would hold his head under the water with a smile on my face.

Just a pretty sunrise from my back deck.

Story of the day:

I wish you could have been there for the sun & the rain & the long, hard hills. For the sound of a thousand conversations scattered along the road. For the people laughing & crying & remembering at the end. But, mainly, I wish you could have been there.

Or, in my words:

If wishes were horses, I would have a barn full and you would take me out to dinner again.

I'm finding that this outlet for me is really an outlet for messages. Messages that I don't want to put in emails. Messages I need to have read and remembered.

My friend is a writer...

a master of words. He's thoughtful, eloquent, descriptive and funny. I miss his pen to paper to computer, words. He would tantalize and tease me when he was writing. Set up a title, describe the events, send me a paragraph, leaving me with bated breath hoping for more. Wishing he would hurry and finish his latest D tale.

He didn't write erotica, or exotic tales, he wrote what he lived, from his heart. He would read me excerpts, his voice giving in to the meaning these stories had for him. He would call from his desk at Caribou (his favorite scribing place), describe his surroundings, his latest idea, or his last paragraph.

I loved the thought of him writing in his notebooks, highlighting what he wanted to remember, reading, rewriting, revamping. He showed me his notebooks once, they were so full of words, every line, front and back pages, filled with words, little pictures to remind him of placement. I want to read all of them, carefully examine his handwriting, look for little spots of coffee, blood, sweat , tears, fingerprints, any signs of the man whose words I was reading.

I want to tell you how careful he is with his words. There are never too many, never over the top, always just right. You can never scan his words, you will miss something. You will miss something important to his story. Sometimes I think he is too careful, I want him to linger over the pictures he is painting in my mind, make the sky a little bluer, the man a little taller, the sea a little deeper.

I'm waiting for him to go back to his entertaining of me, with his pen to paper to computer, words. My friend is a writer of words that were meant for me.

Something from an old time movie

We've been watching a lot of scary old (50's-60's) scary movies. They always seem to involve some old town, a beautiful old house and very scary people. I discovered I could take sepia pictures on my camera. This reminded me of one of the old movies. I was hoping to find a ghostly couple swirling in the band shell, but it's empty.

Color daydream

Spencer and Grover were in my dream

Quaint and lovely and I wanna live there

Spencer and I were driving around today. We found a little town close to mine that had a gazebo/bandhsell in a small park. The downtown was a street with most of the businesses closed. One gas station and a church, no visable bars so I'm assuming it's a God fearing place. Funny thing is I was recently asking a friend if he thought there were any towns left that had the town square, the bandshell, the little town feel. And here I find one today.

The Pooch

This is the dog that makes me say "God Damn it, quit biting my ankles!"

"YIKES"

Exclaimed the crazy woman.

sweet/funny, kinda

Hole in his Heart
He has a hole where his heart used to be because it fell out when he was running from scary things one night in a dream & it hurts all the time now & he doesn't know how to fix it & sometimes I think he doesn't even remember that it's gone.

I get daily (that's what they say anyway, sometimes days are skipped) StoryPeople stories (mini stories). This was todays. If you replaced he with she it would be about me. So... let's do that.

Hole in Her Heart
She has a hole where her heart used to be because it fell out when she was running from scary things one night in a dream & it hurts all the time now & she doesn't know how to fix it & sometimes I think she doesn't even remember that it's gone.

There, now it's all about me, as it should be.

I want to post funny stupid things but I let my life get in the way. I want to highlight my highlights, focus on funnies, stretch stories. I can't I can't find anything good in my life right now. Nothing at all.

Seriously...

What am I supposed to do? Emotionally, mentally and financially I am bankrupt. I am losing everything that I thought was important to me. And I am losing people that I thought I was important to. Times of trouble and flight is fancied.

I am sick of people and their lies. Their manipulations of others for their own personal gain. Whether it's the comfort of phone calls, the thought that someone loves them even though they are comfortably happy with their lives. They feel the need to continue to drag me around, rubbing my face in the dirt then making me feel responsible for feeling like shit.

I guess I am responsible. I could walk away, I could say "no more". I feel like I have become this pathetic lonely old woman that is so dependant on a voice for my comfort, that even with the pain that accompanies it, the tears, the anger, I can't let go. I keep coming back to see how low I can go. I am not worthy of someone so incredibly selfish he laughs at my fears, belittles my emotions, is flippant of the hurt he inflicts.

I am such an idiot, he tells me he has a "happy ending", I am just something he likes but has no respect for and really could give a shit what happens to me. He got his life all tied up in a pretty bow.

What makes me so angry, for those of you that haven't been following my pathetic life, is how long he led me on, how many years he would say, "never say never", give me little glimpses of something so wonderful I was convinced he was for me and I him. I wanted me to be his happy ending, I was convinced I was his happy ending. 3 years of thinking of "me for him", only to be told "oh by the way I am fully committed to another, we've been together a long time , she is my happy ending".

But hey "let's be friends". He lied to me, he lied for 3 years about so many things that I totally bought into. Yet he thinks we were never serious anyway, we met on the net, nothing is ever real on the net. So what's the big deal, seriously?

I wanted to be friends, I wanted to hear his voice his thoughts, anger, song, joke. I wanted to continue to think his happiness was because of me. Knowing the reality is I have nothing to do with his happiness, his happy ending is successful in that aspect of his life,

I guess I was kinda like the spare tire. When the real one got flat, until it got fixed the spare came into play, when the real one is fixed the spare is put back in it's place till needed again.

I still care for you... how do I stop... seriously...

put your hand in the hand...

of the man who calmed the sea...

sea=me

Ok, fine

That last post seems a little juvenile. Not enough that I'm going to remove, I'm just going to admit to my immature thinking.

I don't really believe in true love. I think true love is only a story to be read in books, watched in movies or dreamed about.

I believe in feelings that can't be explained, they can't be written, can't be seen, only felt.

If they are mutual it's even better. If they are admitted to, it's the best.

Trust My Instincts

mmmm....

Ok, I will trust my instincts. I believe in true love and it's there, unfortunately it's star crossed.

WOW! This was easy, or, I'm really smart

I'm gonna miss my Comic Sans font, other than that...

I GUESS I'M HOME MA!!!!

It will take a little getting used to. But... I am ready for change.

BRING IT ON!!!

Home Repairs

Before

After

Let's hope it works!!

aoljpictureUpload, aoljpictureUpload_1

My sister?!

The longer my daughter is here with me the more I feel like my older sister. She is 14 years older than I am, she has been on her own (kinda) for a million years. She has terminal cancer and is going through her second round of chemo.

I am like her in how I look, my thoughts, my actions, my sound, my life. I am alone, can't imagine ever finding anyone that I want to have a long term relationship with (well... I thought I did, unfortunately he was already taken). I'm thinking there will never be another body in my bed again that isn't covered in fur and wags his tail when he's happy (or hungry, playful, bored, sleepy etc...).

For the most part I'm ok with that. I'm ok with myself. Then I think about getting older, being alone, turning into a total hermit. Is that really ok? Is there something terribly wrong with me that there isn't someone that wants to spend time with me? Am I making excuses for my aloneness because I don't want to face the facts?

My sister lived with me for a short time after her first round of chemo. She reminded me of my mom (what I remember of my mom). She seemed defeated in so many ways. Depressed, tired, unmotivated, just wanted the whole thing (life) over. Yikes. Then her son decided to get married and have a baby, she bounced back. She was excited about life again.

My mom was the same way when she was ill. After her first diagnosis of congestive heart failure she was defeated, tired and wanted the whole thing over. Then babies started coming, 3 in a row, one was mine. She bounced back. It didn't last very long but the bounce was great for the time it lasted.

Ok, so where does this make me seem like my sister? I don't know, my wrinkled skin, my teeth that are deciding they need major work, my body drying up of any type of desire. Oh and my facial expressions!

OMG! The looks I get on my face, I can feel my eyes squinting, my lips pursing, and my head shaking in disappointment or disbelief (depending on the issue). I know my lips are moving but I hear my sisters voice and her words. Suddenly I am obsessed with the world and watching MSNBC, CNN, Week in Washington the NEWS for Gods sake! Since when did I start caring about the world (ok the USA more so then the whole world)?

I wish she would come stay with me again. I think I would appreciate her more. Her thoughts (which I thought were a little wacky), her words. I would stop being so judgemental and respect her life experience, her knowledge, she is a smart cookie.

I should send her a note.

another day another day (should be dollar)

Another day to get through. can't wait.

I need a hobby, knitting, painting, photography. Does staring off into space with an empty mind count as a hobby? Or, should there be some kind of tangible result after working on your hobby? Say a scarf or pretty pictures?

Can I really get some kind of surreal satisfaction of having an empty mind and glazed eyes?

Does my lethargic, uncaring, actions carry over into my productive work time? The time I am getting paid to pay attention and make useful contributions? Yeah... I'm pretty sure it does.

Oh well... such is life.

To use the words of one that I admire (especially his forearms) "I yam what I yam"

Now, pass me that can of spinach.

 

I hate my dog

My sweet daughter decided to leave me alone with the new mutt for a few days. We aren't getting along very well.

He barks and bites. I get angry and he reacts with even more barking and biting.

Wait a minute...that sounds vaguely familiar....the story of my life. Except some of the dogs (read; men) I know or have known, ignore me when I bark and bite. mmm...

Everything that my daughter is, I am not. She is patient, loving, tolerant, touchy/feely, and playful.

The dog loves her for all that she is.

He doesn't like me for all the things that I'm not.

I am used to an old mutt that laid by my side and loved me for me. I miss my Bear and his poop.

Maybe there is a lesson here somewhere.

Oh yeah... definitely... don't get another dog till you're really, really ready and make sure YOU (me), not your daughter, picks it out.

Oh... and maybe I should learn to quit barking and biting.

Woof

Matter of time

Man oh man I want to call. But, I won't.

Daily D Diatribe

I want to write nothing but happy entries. Words that tell my happy story. How well I'm doing, being creative, finding new outlets for my mind to express itself. I wish I could do nothing but write about happy endings to my day.

Instead I just want to cry. Cry that I get myself into such shitty situations and never seem to learn from them. I continue to push ahead, with unrealistic expectations, believing in fairy tales.

I allowed myself to become so tied up that I can't even find the knot to attempt to get  undone. It's not for days, weeks or months, I allow this stuff to go on for years. I think I get what I deserve, apparently I don't think I'm worthy of much.

Then I think and I think some more. I think about all the laughter, all the times he took me out of my blues and made me better. All the hours of conversation, what I've learned.

He is happy with a clean break and a nighty nite. Nothing more. Then again his life is full, I was the commercial breaks. I don't believe there are too many people who watch tv, movies, read magazines looking forward to the commercials, the ads. They generally are the bitter taste we all tolerate so that we can get to the good stuff.

He is just now determining that maybe he is bad for me. I think the timing correlates more with something else, maybe he is happier with his happy ending.

I don't want to write about him. I want it all to go away. I want him to fall off the face of the earth so I can make the clean break. If I could just believe that he was gone, gone for good, taken byhis happy ending to a warm place to live out their golden years.

How could this have happened? How did I allow someone to wrap themselves around me so tightly I can't move. I can barely breathe?

I was married to someone for so many years, didn't I learn from that? I thought I was so smart, I didn't need anyone. I wanted to be alone.

Why can't I stay angry, or believe that he is not worthy of me? He is someone that has lied to me from day one. The truth would come and he would give me some story that I wanted to believe, so I did.  I only know what he wanted me to know. How could I have been so stupid and naive?

He is manipulative and can somehow always throw my anger back at me, as if it's my fault. I should have known, it shouldn't matter, I brought it on myself. He acts like it's nothing. I guess to him I am nothing. just a commercial break.

I think that's what hurts me so much. How can he be so cold and callous? Nothing seems to faze him, always me overreacting. He doesn't have feelings. Nothing is lost to him, another "oh well" moment.

He appeared to care, always making himself available to me, call. "I will pick up, I will talk, sing, navigate". How can we talk every day, multiple times, sometimes for hours without there being some kind of connection? How can he not miss me, not feel bad?

Why can't I be more like him?

I am so incredibly sad, sad about being lonely.

 

 

Optimism pulled from my ass

I am determined to take control of my life and not let others guide my moods my heart strings, my thoughts and tears. Yikes I want to laugh laugh laugh. No more carrying the burden of guilt for anything I may have been a part of, some things I wasn't even close to, and I was buried myself under layers of guilt.

My beautiful daughter is incredibly funny, beautiful (did I already say beautiful?), damn smart and fairly brave. She will state her thoughts and mind to those she feels should hear. She also will pick up those she feels are slipping down the slippery slope of loss of hope. She is there for them.

My son is passing state mandetory education tests with flying colors, 100%. HELLO??? The kid is coming out of his cocoon and will soon have the wings to fly.

My new doggie is full of nothing but love (a little pee and poop but we're dealing). I love his funny face and his muskily legs. It's almost that someone created him in cartoon form. We are very very lucky.

I am going to step back a few years of my life. Forget some of the uhappier experiences and get back to my movie mode. My Ingmar Bergman, any INDIE, give me a movie that makes me think, cry, get angry and makes me want to buy their soundtrack, that movie is a winner in my mind.

I am starting back with Ingmar Bergman, Wild Strawberries. I'd seen this movie before and it truely touched my heart.

I thought it was interesting that Isak was able to watch his story, a bystander, audience member, on looker. We were able to see his reactions to what his past memories brought back to him. His pain and joy were obvious. It's been a while since I've seen this movie, I'm amazed by my memories of it. I can clearly see him sitting in the grass watching himself as a child playing with his cousins.Please enlighten me on childhood memories, explain to me abouthaving good and bad. I am stuck in real life and tend to dwell on the reality that most memories suck, unless I make them up.

He was thinking multiple types of thoughts in his road trip, not all happy. He struggled with all of his relationships and fantasized about his childhood. Looking at his past he was able realize some of his mistakes with his family and try to make amends. His son was a mess, however the movie left us with hope that everything would be peachy keen, where's the reality in that?

 

We should all be so lucky to have such soothing childhood memories. I want to go to sleep every night thinking of my family the way Isac did, my brothers and sisters happily playing together on the dock, my beautiful cousin taking my hand to help me find my mother and father. Then finding them, father fishing on the the beautifully mirrored lake while my lovely mother sits close by.

Idyllic memories, unreal but for movies.

I want to go on a long drive and realize my mistakes, understand my regrets and have an opportunity to resolve myself before I die.

I want to go to sleep with a smile on my face.

I would settle for just being an incredibly beautiful Swedish woman

wow

What was supposed to be a week (7 days) of a break from each other, somehow turned into a "clean" one and a swift "nighty nite".

I think I am in shock. I guess I wasn't the only one thinking about it.

But... ok...I guess

I should have known

I did know.  As soon as he said "what's up", I knew.

Ok, so I had a feeling. When I asked what was wrong, he told me that it was in my head, that I shouldn't "manufacture trouble".

Why wouldn't he just say, "hey, had a date, I'm tired". It wasn't just some crazy feeling I was making up, he was avoiding me, he was tired from his date.

This is the kind of stuff that drives me crazy. Makes me feel like I am crazy. This friend makes me question my feelings, emotions. It has eroded my confidence in my thinking capabilities. I can't trust my intuition.

I've acknowledged, I've accepted the Happy Ending. Why does he treat our friendship like it something clandestine. That I will be angry hurt or upset about her? How many times do I have to say, don't hide the truth from me?

It isn't that you see her that hurts me, it's your continued hiding.

I expect I won't be hearing from you today. You will  pretend that, once again, this is all me and I'm just overreacting.

I'm not, I'm just putting words through my fingertips that will not come from my mouth.

 

Beds

I have had some of my best times in bed, some of my happiest moments. Sleeping, sex, conversation, even having babies. Beds in my house, in others houses, hotel rooms, hospitals, even a few sleeping bags.

I used to think my moms bed was the best. There was something very special about laying in my moms bed. My parents slept separately, same room, just two beds, like Rob and Laura. The beds were identical, but my moms was the best.

My kids say the same thing to me. I have the best bed, softest sheets, pillows, quilts. It's funny, even when I'm visiting, staying at their dads, suddenly the bed I sleep in is the most popular.

There is nothing better than crispy clean sheets (smelling slightly of Lysol, it's a childhood thing), a clean body and thoughts of the sandman and sleepy train coming to pick me up. And, lately a good friend at the other end of the line preparing to board the train as well.

My new mutt has decided now that my bed is now to be shared. My Bear used to sleep with me. Jump up, muss of the quilt a little, lay down and sleep. I would be very careful not to wake him, once wakened he would need attention, go outside, a pet, something that would wake me up more than I wanted to be at 5am.

His last year of sleeping on my bed he would chase rabbits and kick me. His legs would run so fast in a stationary position that I thought he would slide off the bed. He never caught anything but me.

Bear in his favorite place.

Now the newbie mutt is making himself comfortable on my bed.

He looks a little pensive, that'll change.

There are some beds that I fantasize about laying my head down on.

I could sleep with Mona.

 

 

It's all about me

NOT!

I am so self centered, it's rude. I take things personally when I'm not even close to being in the picture. I "manufacture trouble" when there isn't any.

It isn't all about me all the time. Others  have thoughts, feelings, memories, family, friends loved ones that don't involve me.

I have to remember that. It would be nice if someone would remind me of that. Snap me out of the crap mindset I can put myself in. Snap their fingers in my face and tell me to snap out of my funk.

If I'm going to be sad or angry about something, it really should be real. Manufactured is wasted energy.

 

Yeah, I'm a girl...

screw me.

I write trash, touchy, whiney crap. I would love to write funny, witty, political satire. Stories of my past that would bring tears to your eyes and a smile to your lips. Words of wisdom that would teach lessons of history, music, life. 

I don't. I just write words that need to flow from my fingertips because I can't make them come from my mouth.

The great thing about this forum is you, dear reader, can exit without an excuse. You can roll your eyes, click your tongue and think, " man, what is she doing here"? You don't have to avoid eye contact and nod your head as if you're listening. You can click your little X up in the right hand corner and you are gone.

I'm ok with that. I do this for finger exercise and mental exorcism.

Sometimes it actually works.

Thanks for reading this far.

 

 

Maybe...

I like the days when I feel good. I feel like I can feel good forever. I feel like I can take anything and make it better. I feel like the moon has aligned with the stars and I am good. I feel close to all my family, the people I love. I feel so strong.

Then wham, not WHAM, just wham. It's a subtle change but quick. Here comes the crap again. I feel lost. I feel overwhelmed, needy, scared. I hate this shit.

I don't know what causes it, but I feel responsible. If I could just change, feel different, not let my thoughts wander to the dark side, I would be a better person. It is all under my control.

Why do I feel so out of control?

UH OH!

Disregard the date. It should read 09/18/2008.

Meet Grover, the latest addition to my house. A daughter and a new dog, what more could I ask for?

We've been perusing the shelter for a week now. Grover was the first dog we laid our eyes on. Being the good consumer that I am, I knew we couldn't buy the first one we saw. We had to shop!

However, we grew attached. We were there everyday, greeting, meeting, walking and no one took our heart like this crazy basset beagle mix.

His body is so long his head is out the front door while his back end is out my back door. When he turns a corner it takes a few minutes to maneuver. He bounces like Tigger and sounds like a blood hound.

We wanted to change his name to Larry. When we were out in the yard and I was telling Larry to come and what a sweet doggie he was I remembered my neighbors name is Larry. We considered Dave, bit Grover has won out.

We haven't told Spencer yet, or my ex. That will be an interesting conversation.

Joe (ex) is a fabulous and supportive friend. He's the one that took Bear to his final resting place. It was hard for him to do, he did it for me. He also said, "now don't go out and get another dog". Ok, I said. Dang.

Spencer has been begging me to get another dog for years. We visited  a pitbull mix several times at the shelter when he was here. His name was CJ, Spencer still talks about him. He is going to be a little ticked.

What am I thinking getting a dog? I think I am losing my mind.

I am the happiest I have been in a very long long time.

Just me

Just finished my first week back to work. Granted it was only half days, it was good to be back and to finish a week. Next week I am back full time. I missed my work buddies.

I am in a good mood mood. It's good to have my daughter here, it's good to have my best friend (yeah, I mean you).

I miss my mutt but I know it was for the best.

Sarah took a picture of a very cool bug at our (get it, "our") back door. This my year for critter invasions. The date is inaccurate, some day I take the option off my camera.

Good Ole Depression

Today was a hard day. Had a bit if sadness mixed with some anger. You know when you experienced a lot of changes in a short period of time and you just want someone to validate, to say I need you, I want to be in your life, rather than talk to me like he's hanging over the neighbors fence talking about corn and soy bean crops.

How are you doing? Been ok since Bear passed? Are you and your daughter doing ok? How are you holding up? Are you sleeping ok, ready to go back to work? Just a few suggestions.

Even tho you will never be my happy ending, you play a part in my current happiness. What I wouldn't give to hear something like that.

I need to get a dog.

What? I didn't catch what you said?

Even Charlie said it, "I got lost in a blizzard of words". Palin is chock full of rhetoric. She showed her expertise at marching around the questions, using many words and not saying a darn thing. Charlie was as nice as could be, but he did appear a little frayed towards the end of the, less than 10 minute, interview.

Where's Barbara when you need her? Someone needs to ask Palin how the heck she intends to implement the changes she so passionately speaks of.

I am scared that she is going to be successful at pulling the wool over too many American eyes. I could have lived with McCain with Romney or even Pawlenty, hell Condi Rice. Sarah Palin does not have the experience or relationships needed to lead the country.

I wish I could believe that we were all smart enough to see through this ruse. However in today's media run society where we believe Barbie is a role model I'm not so sure.

9/11... of all the days to have this interview.

 

A day in history

Given the date today, we should all be very nice to each other.

Better to burn out than just fade away

When I try to decide what mood to choose for a journal entry, I realize I am stuck in a cycle of sucky moods. I need to get out of my rut and start feeling more than crappy, sad, tired and a few other depressing descriptive words.

There are several I want to choose:

Blissful, ecstatic, enthralled, flirtatious, giddy, happy, inspired, jubilant, naughty (I wish), vibrant.

What great words, what great feelings. I don't believe I have ever used them to express my mood. That's sad and just a little pitiful.

So, my mission is to choose a new wonderful mood everyday and stick with it.

I crack myself up some times, ok?

Thank you Neil Young for my fabulous subject line. Fade out's do kinda suck.

For a friend

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No Title

I'm not ready to end, but I'm not sure that I should continue.

Maybe all I've needed is my kids (at least one of them) closer in proximity. Maybe it was the dog dying or the removal of the baby cocoon. Maybe it's that he still can't be honest with me about his happy ending (how can you not remember the last time you saw her?).

I don't know what's caused it, my apathy of hearing about daily activities. Maybe it's the boredom in his voice, not wanting to hear my daily activities.

I think that's it. I have become another one of his daily habits, like brushing his teeth, reading a blog, taking a nap. I'm just a call he feels obligated to make.

Bummer

I have a feeling it will just be a fade out. No more calls, no emails (there were never that many anyway), no interest. Just faded memories and maybe a ramp up on the happy ending. She should be the recipient of his calls.

It's just  not what it used to be.

I'm not sure if I'm happy or sad about it. Ok, I'm not happy about it, I'm sad. 

I can't pretend anymore. I kinda liked pretending he was my boyfriend, in a way.

Been a while

It seems like it's been forever since I have entered words. I was in MN for almost 2 weeks and was unable to log into my journal. I was full of words there. Staying with my ex and my kids. Tons of things happening and I had to hold them all in my head. Now that I can actually add, I don't really feel like my thoughts are worth it. However, I just have to get a few things out so I don't forget what a crazy time it was.

There are a few things that I will have to revisit and remember later, For now here is a list of what I went through (in chronological order):

1) 8 hour drive with the greatest lightening storm I have ever seen in my life

2) Spencer started school (Jr in high school)

3) Saw enough riot squads to last me a life time.

4) Was stuck in the middle of protestors in the streets of St Paul (scary stuff)

5) Answered my phone to my ex yelling "they're shooting tear gas, we can't get out, they're blocking us in!" Ok

6) Biggest and saddest: Had Bear (my big sweet mutt) put to sleep (I see him here, hear his click click click of nails on the floor, have his beds, food and water ready, just in case he comes back)

7) Brought my 20 year old daughter back to IL to live with me

I AM EXHAUSTED!!!

 

Guilt rearing it's ugly head

 Me, mom and crazy sis Noel                        My mom and baby Sarah

 

I was standing in my shower late this evening, it was a long hot day and I was looking forward to washing off all the grime that had accumulated through the day. To relax in clean PJ's, and search for some songs on Napster.

My body is still healing, moving can still be a bit of a challenge. I feel weak and I have aches and pains. Standing in my shower, leaning against the wall,  afraid of slipping, tired and wondering if I would have the energy to finish. The thought of washing my hair, my body, shaving (yes I know, I'm crazy) was overwhelming and that didn't include what I had to do after the shower. Drying off, moisturizing, doing my hair, all my face crap.

I suddenly flashed back to my mother in her final months of life. She was dying of congestive heart failure. I was her daughter who had a year old daughter and husband who had a very hard time dealing with the death concept and me, the immature, angry daughter that now was responsible for taking care of my mother. I was scared, angry, I wasn't ready to lose my mom, I needed her to get me through some more years of my life. I needed her motherly advice.

But, she was dying. She was so weak she could barely take care of herself. She was stubborn and damn it, she'd do it. And, I let her. She had her own apartment in downtown St Paul. She had a few good years of taking advantage of living downtown. The easy access to the arts, music, theater, libraries. The convenience of having everything within walking distance. She loved the city life and lived a few very happy years in the middle of it.

Now it was all she could do to shower, get dressed, walk down a hallway, that now seemed liked miles to the elevator. I would be carrying my daughter, trying to help my mom with support and several stops to rest by the wall. We'd ride the evaluator to the parking ramp. Once she and Sarah were strapped in, we had some time to relax until we got to the Dr. 

The whole time I was taking care of my mom I tried to use the Golden Rule to guide me. I would treat her how I would want to be treated, with love and respect. I tried so hard to keep my focus on her. I knew she didn't have much longer and I wanted her to feel safe, to be ready when the time came, not be afraid.

Tonight while I was standing in my shower feeling so weak and a little scared, I flashed to her. She had to have been scared, weak, barely making it from the shower to her bedroom to dress. Her breathing was so labored, her skin was so sensitive to touch, all of her senses seemed magnified. I think it was all she could do not to scream in frustration, I think she did that after I left.

She was so dependant on me for everything. I tried to be there all the time. To have her house, her clothes clean, to make dinners that she could pop in the microwave. Her pills separated in their day compartments. Water close, phone close, remote, check check check, she was  good to go for the night. I would  hesitantly leave, not knowing what I would come back to the next day.

The final trip to the hospital we both knew she wouldn't be coming home. She was immediately admitted to the UM Hospital where she stayed for 3 weeks. Kidney failure was the final straw and we placed her in a hospice. Every day I was there. There were a few times when she was coherent and would ask for something, scrambled eggs, root beer float. I would sprint out her hospice door to her apartment, make them just the way I knew she liked them and be back as quick as I could. She would take a bite  or a sip, lay back, smile a little and that was it. I felt good that I could give her those little bits of happiness.

I had a funny feeling that last day. I knew I had to spend the night with her, I had to make sure she was getting what she needed for her pain and make sure she knew she would never be alone. I remember saying goodbye to Sarah and my husband Joe, I would call them in the morning. I sat by my moms bed for a very long time, she was restless, it appeared that she was in pain. I called the nurse, they were all so compassionate, willing to give whatever we asked without question. Once the morphine took effect my mother immediately relaxed.

I clearly remember wrapping my arms around her, whispering in her ear that it was ok, ok to let go, we were ready and dad could wait any longer, He was already in the place that they both believed so strongly in, heaven. It was time for them to meet up again. I crawled into the lounge chair next to her and listened to her breathe, raspy quick breaths.

The next thing I know the nurse is touching my shoulder. I was so surprised, I fell asleep. I looked over at my mom and commented on how good she seemed to be doing. The nurse smiled and said "she's gone". I hate to admit it, but my first response was thank God! She is finally gone, no more pain, she is at peace. I held her hand and talked to her telling her I was happy, say hi to dad.

For the most part I feel good about how I handled it. However during the entire time I was so angry, angry I had to deal with a dying mother, a baby, a husband that didn't have a clue. I had brothers and sisters that were all older than me. Brother's who didn't do shit, and sisters who did the best they could but I was closest, logistically, it just made sense that I do it all. God I was pissed.

I guess my reason for writing this is for those of you that still have your mom and pops. They don't live forever, they are just regular folks that have made good and bad choices, Hug them, tell them you love them, and if you have to take care of them don't do anything out of anger. Someday we'll be the parent that will have to rely on our offspring to help us. If we are the role models they work from we'll all be very lucky in our autumn years.

My pee is orange

Yes, my pee is a beautiful burnt orange. Not from the carrots and not in honor of Halloween season, it's the latest of medication that I have taking to help make myself feel like myself again. I thought I was dying yesterday.

2 weeks after surgery, surgery, only in the fact they cut my cervix, sliced my fallopian tubes to save my ovaries (BACK OFF menopause!!!). My little eggs will be popping into oblivion, but still giving me the hormones  I need to stay away from the gun. So they yanked the whole shebang out of the vagina, little super glue and I was good to go, And I did, I was pretty damn ready to get out of the hospital and back in my home to convalesce.

All was going pretty well. Aches, pains, exhausted all the normal parts of recovery. Then I got slapped upside the head. Holy smokes, I could not move, my insides felt like they were ready to explode, every inch of my skin, even my hair follicles, hurt. I called the doc, they said come on in. I barely got dressed, crawled into my car, I was on the verge of tears the whole time. I peed in a cup, 2 minutes later she gave me the news, bladder infection, most likely from the catheter I had. Ok, so now what?

Here is where the orange pee comes into play. I now take burgundy colored pills that are analgesic for urinary track infections.The burgundy color eventually works it's way to burnt orange immediately before being squirted out as pee. It's actually quite pretty.

I really am doing fine. The aches and pains are getting me down a little bit. I am trying to talk to my Mr Pilot friend to come visit me again. I think he's afraid I'll tie him up and place him in my downstairs bedroom. He already has a Happy Ending and he doesn't want her to miss out. Personally, I just enjoyed being with him. I think his Happy Ending is safe. Iwould never take him away from her.

Can someone explain to me...

Other than the obvious, can someone tell me why there is such a difference in the Olympic dress code between the men and women competitors of beach volleyball? The girls in their tight bikinis and the men in their knee length shorts and shirts that appear to have ample room for breezes.

What's the scoop?

And... why do I care???

Things could be worse?

I know it could be worse. One of my kids could be sick, I could be homeless/jobless, disabled.

My bank account information was compromised and I had to close all of my accounts and open new ones. Funny thing I was just telling someone that the chances of account information being compromised were so minimal that it should be one of the last things we worry about. How did that egg get on my face? I should know better than say things that might jinx me.

Maybe that was the little kick I needed. I was feeling deep in the dumps, sad, tired, pained, lonely. I guess I needed something to take my mind of me, myself and I.

Yes, things could be a lot worse. I am a lucky person.

Blue skies smilin at me?

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Random breakdowns

I don't know what's worse, bouts of anger or bouts of crying. Sometimes one lends to the other. I find myself staring at nothing in particular, then bursting into tears. This hits me at random times throughout the day. Every so often, it is a bout of anger, my coffee spills, a fly lands on me and won't leave me alone. I find myself almost in a rage. I have to consciously take a step back, take a deep breath, make myself believe that the world is not coming to an end, the flies were not sent to me via the government as part of a conspiracy.

I am sad, I am lonely, I want my mom. I want someone to take me in their arms, pat my back, rub my arms and cheeks and tell me I'm ok. I just can't seem to see things clearly, I am so deeply sad, I want to sleep peacefully and wake in another place. Not have to wake up to pain and a bone tired body, only to watch my walls start closing in, my friends taking steps away and my world shrinking down to nothing worthwhile.

Honest to god I've been close before, but today the door is wide open and someone is motioning me to come through. I just want to sleep, I want to be normal, worthy of life/friends/love. I am so out of whack and I think I have what I need to pull the trigger, everything but the courage.

Reconsidered

Last night I was angry, very angry. I created a journal entry that was full of venom. I deleted it in the wee hours of this morning. I decided that it was out of line, hurtful and unfair. I don't want to hurt anyone, no matter how much hurt they have caused. Hurt, hurts.

I read someone else's journal today, he wanted to be one of those "happy" people, I do too. I want to see the good in everyone, everything. I want to trust that the Golden Rule is lived by the majority of people in this world. How do these people consistently see a glass that is half full? Is it their medication, the lobotomy, that really bad bike accident they had when they were 5?

Or, are they too afraid to show who they truly are? They would be considered failures (hello mom and dad) if they were to show sadness, anger, disappointment?

I suppose I should be happy that I'm not a narcissist, full of myself, unable to see outside of my own eyes. I am not mean or spiteful. I am a good person with a few faults (hello financial woes). I can be your greatest cheerleader if I feel you are deserving. But, I will also say what is on my mind with a bit of filtering.

I don't know why I feel the need to 'sell' myself. Who am I trying to impress?

Vicious Cycle

                                             

Circle Dance  -  Bonnie Raitt

I don't know why it should be so hard
Giving up this circle dance
Worn out steps from long ago
Don't give love a chance

It's a bitter heirloom handed down
These twisted parts we play
I'm not her and you're not him
It just comes out that way

Can't go back to make things right
Though I wish I understood
Time has made things clearer now
We did the best we could

I'll be home soon, that's what you'd say
And a little kid believes
After a while I learned that love
Must be a thing that leaves

I tried so hard just to hold you near
Was as good as I could be
Even when I had you here
You stayed so far from me

Can't go back to make things right
Though I wish I understood
Time has made things clearer now
You did the best you could

Now that this has occurred to me
I just want you to know
I've been too faithful all my life
It's time to let you go

 

Views from a Cape Cod chair

Pretty clouds

Eye level view

Ah yes, my fav, iced coffee

Source of dog hair

The old sleeping mutt. This pose is a favorite of his.

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