Tuesday, June 07, 2011
Tomorrow is 3 weeks. Three weeks ago I moved to St Croix. St Croix. It’s been over a month since I left California. I left California, I do not live there anymore. Tomorrow I will get out one of the 7 pieces of tools I own, a screw driver, and take off my CA plates. Wow. Weird on so many levels.
The picture is of my last moments in CA. The shot defines my existence there. Empty. So empty. My mind has been messy again. All over the fucking place. Not really up or down, but miserable and quite dark at times. I wrote a blog back in April, but felt it too dark to share. Thinking back on what I call the dark blog, it was cathartic to write, yet hard to comes to real terms with. Ugh I love-hate when my brain is totally on and I do a good deep look on what is festering. I hate when I look into the soup pot of my brain and it’s an over cooked mush of an unedible mess. It cripples me to a point and certain walls and strong mental barriers come crashing down down down. LOCKED SLAM, door shut, gotta go and I don’t want to feel this for real. Feeling anything is still way too new and a bit nauseating to me. I’m still not ready. I’ve been telling myself for way too long that I was ready to start living my life, but I made that mantra an impossible feat.
I’ve been on the worst auto pilot let’s try something new and everything will be ok mode for 15 long arduous years. Trainwrecking my way thru some pretty fucked up shit. Leaving a wake of empty promises and heart breaking nothings. A whirlwind of a life gone, well past it’s due date, old moldy and full of the dark past. My dark log and my dark past, it’s nice to know today neither are haunting me.
My crate of personal effects and household goods cleared US Customs yesterday and was delivered to our house today. It feels so fantastically yay amazing to have all of my stuff here. I really live here. Here. On a freaking mother fucking island. In the Caribbean. Everything I own is here. My dog is here. My cat is here. My Jeep is here. All of my earthly possessions are here. Safe and sound. One broken plate. One single broken plate. Tomorrow I will set up my bed and sleep on my sheets. The kitchen is now full of my kick ass pans and good solid glasses. I am a picky little pain in the ass and I hated using the rented house’s kitchen items. Soon my mom’s will be blended with mine and the kitchen will make sense. My comforter feels delicious on my skin. Gert is sleeping soundly under my leg, loving all her smells from home. Wait. Home is here.
We don’t live there anymore. No more world’s smallest apartment up the stairs in the back of the complex. No more neighbors to chat it up with and hang out for a minute. Now it’s my mom and my step dad. So different. Oh for more moments like this, my brain is not ruminating, there are no spinning wheels, I’m not running from anything. Way better now. A lot less second guess. I needed consistency. There wasn’t much consistency in my life for a long time and there was serious lack of it in CA. No matter how hard I tried nothing worked. Over and over nothing went my way. I guess the evil perfectionist in my head had the wheel much of the time. I repeatedly chose or put myself in many situations doomed from the start. Consciously and unconsciously for a fact.
Things fall apart, it’s scientific.
And then there are people like me who make them fall apart on purpose.
Today there is a lot of good and solid consistency in my every day life. Living with the parentals is not as uncomfortable as I thought it was going to be. Having my own apartment within their house definitely makes the transition easier and they actually want me here, yet I still Convinced myself it was going to suck is what I did. I had a rough 2nd week here, lots of misery slowly working it’s way OUT of my brain. Not the most pleasant thing to be around. Luckily and consistently my mom and step dad have been there with warm welcome open arms to say it’s ok, it’s all going to be ok. I’ve had a few super sucky fucky days fueled by the self hate self loathing unworthy feeling of doom, but even those unfun days were not catastrophes. So nice to not look back and have those bobbing in my life wake.
View I look out on each morning when I walk Gert.
So nice to look out and see an ocean I don’t resent because I have no friends to enjoy it with. Here I can walk for miles and miles without a care in the world. I ‘m waking up in a softer and more gentle mood and feel way more at peace with myself than I have in years. Years.
Moving here wasn’t easy. Lots of waiting in hot tropical heat. The power has gone out three nights in a row. Thank god for good food Scrabble and sane parents. After 3 days of traveling to and from the Containerport at the docks to US Customs to the DMW, everything is here. I live here. Here.
OMG in a good way. Tonight I will sleep well. For sure.
The picture is of my last moments in CA. The shot defines my existence there. Empty. So empty. My mind has been messy again. All over the fucking place. Not really up or down, but miserable and quite dark at times. I wrote a blog back in April, but felt it too dark to share. Thinking back on what I call the dark blog, it was cathartic to write, yet hard to comes to real terms with. Ugh I love-hate when my brain is totally on and I do a good deep look on what is festering. I hate when I look into the soup pot of my brain and it’s an over cooked mush of an unedible mess. It cripples me to a point and certain walls and strong mental barriers come crashing down down down. LOCKED SLAM, door shut, gotta go and I don’t want to feel this for real. Feeling anything is still way too new and a bit nauseating to me. I’m still not ready. I’ve been telling myself for way too long that I was ready to start living my life, but I made that mantra an impossible feat.
I’ve been on the worst auto pilot let’s try something new and everything will be ok mode for 15 long arduous years. Trainwrecking my way thru some pretty fucked up shit. Leaving a wake of empty promises and heart breaking nothings. A whirlwind of a life gone, well past it’s due date, old moldy and full of the dark past. My dark log and my dark past, it’s nice to know today neither are haunting me.
My crate of personal effects and household goods cleared US Customs yesterday and was delivered to our house today. It feels so fantastically yay amazing to have all of my stuff here. I really live here. Here. On a freaking mother fucking island. In the Caribbean. Everything I own is here. My dog is here. My cat is here. My Jeep is here. All of my earthly possessions are here. Safe and sound. One broken plate. One single broken plate. Tomorrow I will set up my bed and sleep on my sheets. The kitchen is now full of my kick ass pans and good solid glasses. I am a picky little pain in the ass and I hated using the rented house’s kitchen items. Soon my mom’s will be blended with mine and the kitchen will make sense. My comforter feels delicious on my skin. Gert is sleeping soundly under my leg, loving all her smells from home. Wait. Home is here.
We don’t live there anymore. No more world’s smallest apartment up the stairs in the back of the complex. No more neighbors to chat it up with and hang out for a minute. Now it’s my mom and my step dad. So different. Oh for more moments like this, my brain is not ruminating, there are no spinning wheels, I’m not running from anything. Way better now. A lot less second guess. I needed consistency. There wasn’t much consistency in my life for a long time and there was serious lack of it in CA. No matter how hard I tried nothing worked. Over and over nothing went my way. I guess the evil perfectionist in my head had the wheel much of the time. I repeatedly chose or put myself in many situations doomed from the start. Consciously and unconsciously for a fact.
Things fall apart, it’s scientific.
And then there are people like me who make them fall apart on purpose.
Today there is a lot of good and solid consistency in my every day life. Living with the parentals is not as uncomfortable as I thought it was going to be. Having my own apartment within their house definitely makes the transition easier and they actually want me here, yet I still Convinced myself it was going to suck is what I did. I had a rough 2nd week here, lots of misery slowly working it’s way OUT of my brain. Not the most pleasant thing to be around. Luckily and consistently my mom and step dad have been there with warm welcome open arms to say it’s ok, it’s all going to be ok. I’ve had a few super sucky fucky days fueled by the self hate self loathing unworthy feeling of doom, but even those unfun days were not catastrophes. So nice to not look back and have those bobbing in my life wake.
View I look out on each morning when I walk Gert.
Moving here wasn’t easy. Lots of waiting in hot tropical heat. The power has gone out three nights in a row. Thank god for good food Scrabble and sane parents. After 3 days of traveling to and from the Containerport at the docks to US Customs to the DMW, everything is here. I live here. Here.
OMG in a good way. Tonight I will sleep well. For sure.
Tuesday, March 29, 2011
Writing is so good for my soul
“How can a woman be expected to be happy with a man who insists on treating her as if she were a perfectly normal human being.” Oscar Wilde.
My mind just goes here there and everywhere. It makes the energizer bunny look lazy. And slovenly. I wish most ardently for a quiet mind. One cannot use a wish on that though. You cannot poof the non stop mind away. Oh I wish wish wish I could Most certainly I have tried tried tried. Ugh. I wish my thoughts came out better. I wish I could get back into scribbling in a notebook. Documenting the madness of my mind was way easier. Take a look at my old textbooks and daily journals or day planners. Well documented madness and I didn’t even realize it was coming out. But in this electronic age, maybe I’m overwhelmed by my choices and picking up a pen or even typing this on my laptop weighs on me. It’s a much needed release yet I deny myself the pleasure and make it a chore.
I also do this sick little evil trick. I refrain from looking at myself in any mirror. Not even in window reflections not in my car. Not at all. I’ve been doing it for years and it means I’m upset about something but am refusing to acknowledge it. I know for a fact it’s happening because I caught a look at myself earlier. For real. By accident I caught my naked thigh all the way up to my slightly disheveled but rock star pretty hair. I really liked what I saw. The recent weight loss my brilliant stylist and a much more positive attitude all contributed to my little moment. I’m so grateful right now for my little me moment. Wake up call, stop denying yourself the pretty. It feels soooooo good you dipshit.
And anxious boys, oh god so over that crap. They all either lie or want me to be way more than I could ever be. None of them want to take even 5 minutes to get to know me. None of them. I cannot and will not be trapped in conversations with myself, trapped, feeling claustrophobic climbing the walls to get away from them or that I am really letting something slide that I shouldn’t. I’m over hearing disgusting stories that turn my stomach or abhorrent nonsense closed minded ridiculousness. I wish so much that dating anyone or anything wasn’t such a knife in my heart. For real. The past two years both with men and/or volunteer commitments everything has really been the wrong fit for me. Several times my heart has been way too big or way too small. It’s been a rough few years of feeling like I can’t win on many levels. I’m glad I stopped trying. I’m more content taking things, everything on a much smaller scale, with no agenda on the horizon. And I’m a bit more in tune to people who are just there to take advantage or fulfill a dream I cannot be. I cannot be rushed into anything, whether it is a meal I’m being served by a waiter or it’s the butterflies of like, I cannot and will not be rushed in my meals or with my love. It’s my love to give and share and I’ve decided to no longer give it on any level just because. I’m thinking it all through with a much more clear perspective and I’m discovering several of my existing relationships and friendships have grown much stronger. I’m no longer demanding your love or shoving mine down your throat. I’m just here. And I’m enjoying myself most days. When my mind isn’t eating itself about the future that is. At least I’m not scared about who I am. I know and like that. Especially now with my pretty moment. Stop not looking the pretty. Stop.
Birdhouse in Your Soul Lyrics Artist: They Might Be Giants
I'm your only friend I'm not your only friend But I'm a little glowing friend But really I'm not actually your friend But I am Blue canary in the outlet by the light switch Who watches over you Make a little birdhouse in your soul Not to put too fine a point on it Say I'm the only bee in your bonnet Make a little birdhouse in your soul I have a secret to tell From my electrical well It's a simple message and I'm leaving out the whistles and bells So the room must listen to me Filibuster vigilantly My name is blue canary one note* spelled l-i-t-e My story's infinite Like the Longines Symphonette it doesn't rest Blue canary in the outlet by the light switch Who watches over you Make a little birdhouse in your soul Not to put too fine a point on it Say I'm the only bee in your bonnet Make a little birdhouse in your soul I'm your only friend I'm not your only friend But I'm a little glowing friend But really I'm not actually your friend But I am There's a picture opposite me Of my primitive ancestry Which stood on rocky shores and kept the beaches shipwreck free Though I respect that a lot I'd be fired if that were my job After killing Jason off and countless screaming Argonauts Bluebird of friendliness Like guardian angels its always near Blue canary in the outlet by the light switch Who watches over you Make a little birdhouse in your soul Not to put too fine a point on it Say I'm the only bee in your bonnet Make a little birdhouse in your soul (and while you're at it Keep the nightlight on inside the Birdhouse in your soul) Not to put too fine a point on it Say I'm the only bee in your bonnet Make a little birdhouse in your soul Blue canary in the outlet by the light switch (and while you're at it) Who watches over you (keep the nightlight on inside the) Make a little birdhouse in your soul (birdhouse in your soul) Not to put too fine a point on it Say I'm the only bee in your bonnet Make a little birdhouse in your soul Blue canary in the outlet by the light switch (and while you're at it) Who watches over you (keep the nightlight on inside the) Make a little birdhouse in your soul (birdhouse in your soul) Not to put too fine a point on it Say I'm the only bee in your bonnet Make a little birdhouse in your soul
My mind just goes here there and everywhere. It makes the energizer bunny look lazy. And slovenly. I wish most ardently for a quiet mind. One cannot use a wish on that though. You cannot poof the non stop mind away. Oh I wish wish wish I could Most certainly I have tried tried tried. Ugh. I wish my thoughts came out better. I wish I could get back into scribbling in a notebook. Documenting the madness of my mind was way easier. Take a look at my old textbooks and daily journals or day planners. Well documented madness and I didn’t even realize it was coming out. But in this electronic age, maybe I’m overwhelmed by my choices and picking up a pen or even typing this on my laptop weighs on me. It’s a much needed release yet I deny myself the pleasure and make it a chore.
I also do this sick little evil trick. I refrain from looking at myself in any mirror. Not even in window reflections not in my car. Not at all. I’ve been doing it for years and it means I’m upset about something but am refusing to acknowledge it. I know for a fact it’s happening because I caught a look at myself earlier. For real. By accident I caught my naked thigh all the way up to my slightly disheveled but rock star pretty hair. I really liked what I saw. The recent weight loss my brilliant stylist and a much more positive attitude all contributed to my little moment. I’m so grateful right now for my little me moment. Wake up call, stop denying yourself the pretty. It feels soooooo good you dipshit.
And anxious boys, oh god so over that crap. They all either lie or want me to be way more than I could ever be. None of them want to take even 5 minutes to get to know me. None of them. I cannot and will not be trapped in conversations with myself, trapped, feeling claustrophobic climbing the walls to get away from them or that I am really letting something slide that I shouldn’t. I’m over hearing disgusting stories that turn my stomach or abhorrent nonsense closed minded ridiculousness. I wish so much that dating anyone or anything wasn’t such a knife in my heart. For real. The past two years both with men and/or volunteer commitments everything has really been the wrong fit for me. Several times my heart has been way too big or way too small. It’s been a rough few years of feeling like I can’t win on many levels. I’m glad I stopped trying. I’m more content taking things, everything on a much smaller scale, with no agenda on the horizon. And I’m a bit more in tune to people who are just there to take advantage or fulfill a dream I cannot be. I cannot be rushed into anything, whether it is a meal I’m being served by a waiter or it’s the butterflies of like, I cannot and will not be rushed in my meals or with my love. It’s my love to give and share and I’ve decided to no longer give it on any level just because. I’m thinking it all through with a much more clear perspective and I’m discovering several of my existing relationships and friendships have grown much stronger. I’m no longer demanding your love or shoving mine down your throat. I’m just here. And I’m enjoying myself most days. When my mind isn’t eating itself about the future that is. At least I’m not scared about who I am. I know and like that. Especially now with my pretty moment. Stop not looking the pretty. Stop.
Birdhouse in Your Soul Lyrics Artist: They Might Be Giants
I'm your only friend I'm not your only friend But I'm a little glowing friend But really I'm not actually your friend But I am Blue canary in the outlet by the light switch Who watches over you Make a little birdhouse in your soul Not to put too fine a point on it Say I'm the only bee in your bonnet Make a little birdhouse in your soul I have a secret to tell From my electrical well It's a simple message and I'm leaving out the whistles and bells So the room must listen to me Filibuster vigilantly My name is blue canary one note* spelled l-i-t-e My story's infinite Like the Longines Symphonette it doesn't rest Blue canary in the outlet by the light switch Who watches over you Make a little birdhouse in your soul Not to put too fine a point on it Say I'm the only bee in your bonnet Make a little birdhouse in your soul I'm your only friend I'm not your only friend But I'm a little glowing friend But really I'm not actually your friend But I am There's a picture opposite me Of my primitive ancestry Which stood on rocky shores and kept the beaches shipwreck free Though I respect that a lot I'd be fired if that were my job After killing Jason off and countless screaming Argonauts Bluebird of friendliness Like guardian angels its always near Blue canary in the outlet by the light switch Who watches over you Make a little birdhouse in your soul Not to put too fine a point on it Say I'm the only bee in your bonnet Make a little birdhouse in your soul (and while you're at it Keep the nightlight on inside the Birdhouse in your soul) Not to put too fine a point on it Say I'm the only bee in your bonnet Make a little birdhouse in your soul Blue canary in the outlet by the light switch (and while you're at it) Who watches over you (keep the nightlight on inside the) Make a little birdhouse in your soul (birdhouse in your soul) Not to put too fine a point on it Say I'm the only bee in your bonnet Make a little birdhouse in your soul Blue canary in the outlet by the light switch (and while you're at it) Who watches over you (keep the nightlight on inside the) Make a little birdhouse in your soul (birdhouse in your soul) Not to put too fine a point on it Say I'm the only bee in your bonnet Make a little birdhouse in your soul
Friday, March 25, 2011
Why is writing hard?
I hate that I struggle to write. I hate that there are days upon days when clever and witty things float about my head, but putting them on paper sounds less apealling than crazy thoughts. I suffocate the words and they disappear. I resent myself for the lost creativity and then punish myself for the loss of words that obviously did not matter. But they did. So why didn't I write them? It's a bitch of struggle. Why do I do this? Some times it's music, sometimes it's words. I play a game with them and it annoys the fuck out of me. I need to practice more 5 minute streams of nothing. That's what this is. I set the timer and I am just wrting. For fucks sake.
So many crazy changes this past week. Such amazing exciting holy shit changes. Peace. Super happy peace. Quiet. Quiet once my evil dental work is done. I hope the peace brings the words on paper. Oh I hope so much. I want to write and write. I want to get it all out of my head. For gods sake I need to make all the therapy worth something. I also want the endless stream of dreams and hopes and what ifs to have more accountability. If I write I usually do it. I want more self motivation in my life. Putting it out there holds me way more accountable. I crave that. So very much.
So many crazy changes this past week. Such amazing exciting holy shit changes. Peace. Super happy peace. Quiet. Quiet once my evil dental work is done. I hope the peace brings the words on paper. Oh I hope so much. I want to write and write. I want to get it all out of my head. For gods sake I need to make all the therapy worth something. I also want the endless stream of dreams and hopes and what ifs to have more accountability. If I write I usually do it. I want more self motivation in my life. Putting it out there holds me way more accountable. I crave that. So very much.
Tuesday, February 15, 2011
FAST FORWARD
The last week of January and first full week of February were somewhat of a whirl wind for me. Several times I woke up filled with annoyance at the day, aggravation about a whole week looming in front of me. Why? On my morning walk with Gert I asked myself what is your problem over and over and could not come to any logical resolution in my head so the agita and angst stayed put in my tummy and in my head. I think my problem is that I have no problems on hand to concentrate on so I am messing with myself to create some. Is this what this is? I also can look back and see myself slowly repeating bad and negative behaviors. I was rushing, of course I was I felt anxious. I was on fast forward each day could not end soon enough. I was waiting, waiting anxiously for what? Nothing specific that’s for sure. I was overloading my brain with mush – I was berating myself for not writing as much as I felt I ‘should”. I felt like I could have been doing a better job with a new thing in my life but instead I choose to look at the situation very objectively and one sided. I was snappy and crash and definitely wasn’t being viewed as lovable. And then the creepy thoughts creep in. You’re not NOT depressed you’re still depressed and are living on a pink cloud. Your life does suck and you are not making progress of any kind. Even if you were no one would care.
A ton of great and amazing things happened in the two weeks I was on fast forward and anxious. I kind of half heartedly participated in all the good things. I really didn’t to enjoy many of the good times or good thing s going on – I was too busy on fast forward, just like that trying to be perfect.
Perfect for my mom. Perfect for the guy. Perfect for my friends. Perfect at work. Perfect. Perfect. Perfect. Ugh. That again.
STOP. Just STOP. Enough. For Christ’s sake enough. Enough mental anguish inflicted on MYSELF. Give yourself a break Frannie you don’t hate yourself you actually really like you. You are a delight and a wonderful person when your mind isn’t eating itself. Stop just stop.
The whole entire time I was on fast forward I was aware I was on fast forward. I’m very pleased about catching the fast forward, catching the depression, acknowledging it and allowing myself to feel it. But I don’t like feeling it. No long lingering resentful weekend spent in bed alone just me and my dog tuning everyone and everything out. Numbing myself to any kind of anything – spare me your pity fuck you, spare me your concern I am fucking fine. Leave me alone, what I wouldn’t give for 5 minutes of your time. That’s the crazy part about all this. People would think with all of my over emotion and over sharing that I would love to feel. That I crave attention I love feeling excited exuberated. Well I don’t. I do not like feeling much more than an even status quo because anything really good - it instantly makes me worry (see how anxiety can creep into a relatively happy and content occasion with me) and anything really bad kind of shuts me down completely – guilt and shame destroy me in seconds (I can get sad that someone else isn’t having a good time).
I hate having to feel all of this. Can’t I just be better and move forward forward forward without the fucking pain and angst I still have ahead of me? I hate the insecurity of wanting to be better person for real – am I lying to myself and others again? So far no. Neither. But today I am aware of how quickly I can revert right back to old bad habits. Rushing when there is nothing to rush for. Not listening and overtalking. I read a good quote the other day “If you want to be loved, be lovable”. I love lovable Fran, she is so soft and pretty and fun. Rushy rush anxietypants is so no fun for anyone, most of all me.
I go back to music because my music moves my soul. Cage the Elephant is speaking for me below. Stuck here in between the shadows of my yesterday – I’m petrified the dark shadows of the bad past will haunt the good I am so striving for. And the dichotomy of me continues because while I hear, see and feel pain in the song I also garner strength. Today I do have my back against the wall but I’m looking out at all of you. I’m not judging, I’m not over critiquing, I can turn away from the crap – I can flip this, I can live a life worth living, all I have to do is give myself a chance. I don’t want a place to hide anymore, I’ve hid for too long and lied for too long. My fabricated disbelief is over. My new not perfect has begun. I am not a coward and I will confront the person I am.
Back Against the Wall – Cage the Elephant
Tonight i'll have a look and try to find my face againBuried beneath this house my spirit screams and dies againOutback a monster wears a cloak of persian leatherBehind the tv screen i've fallen to my knees
I said you got me where you want me again and i can't turn awayI'm hangin' by a thread and i'm feelin' like a foolI'm stuck here in between the shadows of my yesterdayI wanna get away i need to get away
Blanket of silence makes me wanna sink my teeth in deepBurn all the evidence a fabricated disbeliefPull back the curtains took a look into your eyesMy tongue has now become a platform for your lies
I said you got me where you want me again and i can't turn awayI'm hangin' by a thread and i'm feelin' like a foolI'm stuck here in between the shadows of my yesterdayI wanna get away i need to get away
Now you know yeah you got my back against the wallOh god i ain't got no other place to hideChained down like a sittin' duck just waitin' for the fallYou know yeah you got my back against the wall
Deep in the jungle camouflaged by all the fallen leavesA hand holds up the sky while shamefully i make my pleaThe alter's callin' but my legs won't seem to standGuess i'm a coward scared to face the man i am
I said you got me where you want me again and i can't turn awayI'm hangin' by a thread and i'm feelin' like a foolI'm stuck here in between the shadows of my yesterdayI wanna get away i need to get away
Now you know yeah you got my back against the wallOh god i ain't got no other place to hideChained down like a sittin' duck just waitin' for the fallYou know yeah you got my back against the wall
Now you know yeah you got my back against the wallOh god i ain't got no other place to hideChained down like a sittin' duck just waitin' for the fallYou know yeah you got my back against the wall
A ton of great and amazing things happened in the two weeks I was on fast forward and anxious. I kind of half heartedly participated in all the good things. I really didn’t to enjoy many of the good times or good thing s going on – I was too busy on fast forward, just like that trying to be perfect.
Perfect for my mom. Perfect for the guy. Perfect for my friends. Perfect at work. Perfect. Perfect. Perfect. Ugh. That again.
STOP. Just STOP. Enough. For Christ’s sake enough. Enough mental anguish inflicted on MYSELF. Give yourself a break Frannie you don’t hate yourself you actually really like you. You are a delight and a wonderful person when your mind isn’t eating itself. Stop just stop.
The whole entire time I was on fast forward I was aware I was on fast forward. I’m very pleased about catching the fast forward, catching the depression, acknowledging it and allowing myself to feel it. But I don’t like feeling it. No long lingering resentful weekend spent in bed alone just me and my dog tuning everyone and everything out. Numbing myself to any kind of anything – spare me your pity fuck you, spare me your concern I am fucking fine. Leave me alone, what I wouldn’t give for 5 minutes of your time. That’s the crazy part about all this. People would think with all of my over emotion and over sharing that I would love to feel. That I crave attention I love feeling excited exuberated. Well I don’t. I do not like feeling much more than an even status quo because anything really good - it instantly makes me worry (see how anxiety can creep into a relatively happy and content occasion with me) and anything really bad kind of shuts me down completely – guilt and shame destroy me in seconds (I can get sad that someone else isn’t having a good time).
I hate having to feel all of this. Can’t I just be better and move forward forward forward without the fucking pain and angst I still have ahead of me? I hate the insecurity of wanting to be better person for real – am I lying to myself and others again? So far no. Neither. But today I am aware of how quickly I can revert right back to old bad habits. Rushing when there is nothing to rush for. Not listening and overtalking. I read a good quote the other day “If you want to be loved, be lovable”. I love lovable Fran, she is so soft and pretty and fun. Rushy rush anxietypants is so no fun for anyone, most of all me.
I go back to music because my music moves my soul. Cage the Elephant is speaking for me below. Stuck here in between the shadows of my yesterday – I’m petrified the dark shadows of the bad past will haunt the good I am so striving for. And the dichotomy of me continues because while I hear, see and feel pain in the song I also garner strength. Today I do have my back against the wall but I’m looking out at all of you. I’m not judging, I’m not over critiquing, I can turn away from the crap – I can flip this, I can live a life worth living, all I have to do is give myself a chance. I don’t want a place to hide anymore, I’ve hid for too long and lied for too long. My fabricated disbelief is over. My new not perfect has begun. I am not a coward and I will confront the person I am.
Back Against the Wall – Cage the Elephant
Tonight i'll have a look and try to find my face againBuried beneath this house my spirit screams and dies againOutback a monster wears a cloak of persian leatherBehind the tv screen i've fallen to my knees
I said you got me where you want me again and i can't turn awayI'm hangin' by a thread and i'm feelin' like a foolI'm stuck here in between the shadows of my yesterdayI wanna get away i need to get away
Blanket of silence makes me wanna sink my teeth in deepBurn all the evidence a fabricated disbeliefPull back the curtains took a look into your eyesMy tongue has now become a platform for your lies
I said you got me where you want me again and i can't turn awayI'm hangin' by a thread and i'm feelin' like a foolI'm stuck here in between the shadows of my yesterdayI wanna get away i need to get away
Now you know yeah you got my back against the wallOh god i ain't got no other place to hideChained down like a sittin' duck just waitin' for the fallYou know yeah you got my back against the wall
Deep in the jungle camouflaged by all the fallen leavesA hand holds up the sky while shamefully i make my pleaThe alter's callin' but my legs won't seem to standGuess i'm a coward scared to face the man i am
I said you got me where you want me again and i can't turn awayI'm hangin' by a thread and i'm feelin' like a foolI'm stuck here in between the shadows of my yesterdayI wanna get away i need to get away
Now you know yeah you got my back against the wallOh god i ain't got no other place to hideChained down like a sittin' duck just waitin' for the fallYou know yeah you got my back against the wall
Now you know yeah you got my back against the wallOh god i ain't got no other place to hideChained down like a sittin' duck just waitin' for the fallYou know yeah you got my back against the wall
Friday, February 04, 2011
The enemy within
After writing what I wrote last week I was on a bit of a natural high. I can’t remember the last time I had a real one of those, it’s been a long long time. Getting that off my chest was the best therapy session of my life. Accountability is so my friend. It’s more proof positive that I really am letting go and moving forward. It’s LOL funny to me myself and I that I spent an entire year resenting myself and everyone else. Longer than just last year it’s been years I was consumed by that. Super resenting – BUT I’M NOT BAD ANYMORE why can’t the world see that – where is my praise? My kudos for all this soul searching self help? In my demanding mess of a mind there was no way possible for it to dawn on me I needed to be the one giving myself kudos, I need to be ok with me before anyone else would be. I heard that line my whole fucking life. Love yourself. Be kind to you. Sticks and stones may break my bones but words will never hurt. LIE. That is a fucking LIE. Words hurt. Words have hurt me a million times over for so many years. There have been times I would have rather been stabbed than have to hear some of the verbal evil thrown my way over the years. I can think back to instances over 20 years old that still hurt worse than a gun shot wound. Mean comments, ruined moments, evil girls. I was one of the evil girls for sure.
Two important realizations pushed thru the dark and came to light to me in 2010 – I started to comprehend what FILTER meant and why it is so necessary and I also started seeing the DENIAL I was living in for so very long. Filtering – I had no filter – I was an open book, too open. Over sharing over emotional over the top = gross. Denial about anything and everything. If I can't remember it thenit didn't happen was my motto and I was proud of it. I’m fine, there is nothing wrong with me – omg there is so much wrong with me I will never be fixed. I expected empathy, sympathy, pity, help. HA. Instead I got put down, labeled uncontrollable/out of line, loss of respect, ignored, shunned and so on. Screaming in people’s faces rarely gets you anywhere. Why was my fuse so freaking short? Maybe because I over sharing about my existence spent in denial. People who called me on my shit were instantly dead to me. They didn’t exist. I only made friends with people to hurt them. I only accepted dates to make them want me and then I would slam the door and quickly delete them from my life. I would make plans with several people and blow them all off. Over and over and over again. I wouldn’t pick up the phone for days – gladly making anyone and everyone who knew me worry. I would then return a call or a text but if there was no pick up or instant response you went back in the dead to me pile. Every single person every single day pissed me off to no end. I didn’t like anyone! I resented the shit out of my beloved dog. I craved more but the more I got the more I isolated, the more my twisted fucked up brain ruminated out of control. And then I started to filter. And all that self hate – the angst – the pity partying it disappeared before my very eyes. It stopped. I didn’t notice the stop for months later because I was still in serious denial about a lot of things, but it stopped and I will be so damned if it comes back like it was.
Filtering has given me the ability to take a step back from own shit. It has given me the opportunity to listen – really listen to others. Instead of trying to solve all of your shit I have started to listen and listen only. I will offer my opinion, my thought at your question, but I have no expectations of what you will ultimately do. I’m not going to hold it against you, I’m not going to check up on you. Your shit is your shit. I have enough of my own shit to worry about and have no desire to worry about yours. Oh my sleep is so much better. I have taken all of those unfounded expectations in my head and said see ya. By keeping my mouth shut and making sure that whatever going on isn’t about me I am safe. With this new approach I have gained trust and respect instead of hate and lies. Friendships new and old have blossomed and strengthened instead of being sucked lifeless by unreasonable demands and expectations.
Realizing that I was trapped under a deep dark veil of denial has been hard to come to terms with. I don’t know how I got into such a deep hole. I’m not an angry hateful person. I have never been one to side with the devil. But for so long, what felt like forever with no way out, I existed in a hateful deviant world. I eschewed my own existence. I wanted to be the opposite of everything but in doing so I received no satisfaction from myself or others. I looked down on everyone, everything in order to make myself feel better. I denied myself books, music and friends to make myself feel better. My denial was fueled by my pain that masked my reality. You’re only in turmoil and pain if you allow yourself to be. Screaming and demanding that pain needs to cease to exist only grows the pain stronger. In my mess of a mind I was going above and beyond to help myself and everyone else but at the same time I was let down by myself and others on an hourly basis. My therapist and I had a chat one day about my perception of myself. My perception and my reality were very skewed. It was from that conversation on that I slowly started to come to terms with what was really going on with my life. I slowly started to remove myself from the insanity I was creating for myself and others.
Why was I trying to create a Norman Rockwell existence when I have no desire to live a Norman Rockwell life? This was a question I kept screaming at myself and anyone who would listen for years. Years upon years of never being happy with myself or others. Never really enjoying anything at all because I was too busy resenting, bully, lying, or crying. Why were all of my perceptions so skewed and how did they revert back to sanity? Like I have mentioned before depressed people take comfort in their depression. It’s a most vicious cycle, but it’s our comfort zone. In my jumbled mind, during my crazing for more more more – I would attempt at times to stop the insanity. I would try new projects/hobbies, make new friends. But everything failied. Why am I reaching out to a crackhead junkie for friendship – oh yeah I think I can fix them. Why am I looking into sailing lessons when I am deathly afraid of dying on a boat? Why am I wearing my weekend hippie clothes to work – how will anyone take me seriously in flip flops? Everything I wanted I stood in the way of. I refused to take real accountability, I was still trapped under the veil of denial. I was denying myself an existence! I was preventing myself from moving forward, I was my own worst enemy.
But my therapist INSISTED over and over I wasn’t. I was not allowed to call myself my own worst enemy. I was asked to give myself a break. For weeks on end I screamed figuratively and literally LOOK AT ME GIVING MYSELF A BREAK all the while I was still striving for one thing and one thing only – perfection. It’s a strength and a weakness all at the same time. My insanely high standards of myself and others was my downfall – not me. My insane desire to be everyone’s friend, make everyone happy did one thing and one thing only it made me miserable. It wasn’t ok that everyone was happy around me because all I did was resent the shit out of them. I might have been busting my ass on my therapy at work with friends but I was still trying to be perfect. It wasn’t until I stopped with trying to be perfect that I was able to finally truly give myself the much needed break I claimed to be taking all the while I was driving the crazy train bus. Fortunately for me I have an amazing mother, an empathic and very kind therapist who calls me on my shit and really really great friends. I have fucking amazing friends. AMAZING friends. And for the first in so long I feel GOOD. Even when I’m pissy I still feel good. Even I feel rushed I still feel good. There is lots and lots of good and pretty light at the end of my tunnel.
Oh and I feel pretty again. That has to be the bestest part of all of this. I feel pretty outside because I am really am pretty inside and not full of evil like I was convinced for way too long.
Two important realizations pushed thru the dark and came to light to me in 2010 – I started to comprehend what FILTER meant and why it is so necessary and I also started seeing the DENIAL I was living in for so very long. Filtering – I had no filter – I was an open book, too open. Over sharing over emotional over the top = gross. Denial about anything and everything. If I can't remember it thenit didn't happen was my motto and I was proud of it. I’m fine, there is nothing wrong with me – omg there is so much wrong with me I will never be fixed. I expected empathy, sympathy, pity, help. HA. Instead I got put down, labeled uncontrollable/out of line, loss of respect, ignored, shunned and so on. Screaming in people’s faces rarely gets you anywhere. Why was my fuse so freaking short? Maybe because I over sharing about my existence spent in denial. People who called me on my shit were instantly dead to me. They didn’t exist. I only made friends with people to hurt them. I only accepted dates to make them want me and then I would slam the door and quickly delete them from my life. I would make plans with several people and blow them all off. Over and over and over again. I wouldn’t pick up the phone for days – gladly making anyone and everyone who knew me worry. I would then return a call or a text but if there was no pick up or instant response you went back in the dead to me pile. Every single person every single day pissed me off to no end. I didn’t like anyone! I resented the shit out of my beloved dog. I craved more but the more I got the more I isolated, the more my twisted fucked up brain ruminated out of control. And then I started to filter. And all that self hate – the angst – the pity partying it disappeared before my very eyes. It stopped. I didn’t notice the stop for months later because I was still in serious denial about a lot of things, but it stopped and I will be so damned if it comes back like it was.
Filtering has given me the ability to take a step back from own shit. It has given me the opportunity to listen – really listen to others. Instead of trying to solve all of your shit I have started to listen and listen only. I will offer my opinion, my thought at your question, but I have no expectations of what you will ultimately do. I’m not going to hold it against you, I’m not going to check up on you. Your shit is your shit. I have enough of my own shit to worry about and have no desire to worry about yours. Oh my sleep is so much better. I have taken all of those unfounded expectations in my head and said see ya. By keeping my mouth shut and making sure that whatever going on isn’t about me I am safe. With this new approach I have gained trust and respect instead of hate and lies. Friendships new and old have blossomed and strengthened instead of being sucked lifeless by unreasonable demands and expectations.
Realizing that I was trapped under a deep dark veil of denial has been hard to come to terms with. I don’t know how I got into such a deep hole. I’m not an angry hateful person. I have never been one to side with the devil. But for so long, what felt like forever with no way out, I existed in a hateful deviant world. I eschewed my own existence. I wanted to be the opposite of everything but in doing so I received no satisfaction from myself or others. I looked down on everyone, everything in order to make myself feel better. I denied myself books, music and friends to make myself feel better. My denial was fueled by my pain that masked my reality. You’re only in turmoil and pain if you allow yourself to be. Screaming and demanding that pain needs to cease to exist only grows the pain stronger. In my mess of a mind I was going above and beyond to help myself and everyone else but at the same time I was let down by myself and others on an hourly basis. My therapist and I had a chat one day about my perception of myself. My perception and my reality were very skewed. It was from that conversation on that I slowly started to come to terms with what was really going on with my life. I slowly started to remove myself from the insanity I was creating for myself and others.
Why was I trying to create a Norman Rockwell existence when I have no desire to live a Norman Rockwell life? This was a question I kept screaming at myself and anyone who would listen for years. Years upon years of never being happy with myself or others. Never really enjoying anything at all because I was too busy resenting, bully, lying, or crying. Why were all of my perceptions so skewed and how did they revert back to sanity? Like I have mentioned before depressed people take comfort in their depression. It’s a most vicious cycle, but it’s our comfort zone. In my jumbled mind, during my crazing for more more more – I would attempt at times to stop the insanity. I would try new projects/hobbies, make new friends. But everything failied. Why am I reaching out to a crackhead junkie for friendship – oh yeah I think I can fix them. Why am I looking into sailing lessons when I am deathly afraid of dying on a boat? Why am I wearing my weekend hippie clothes to work – how will anyone take me seriously in flip flops? Everything I wanted I stood in the way of. I refused to take real accountability, I was still trapped under the veil of denial. I was denying myself an existence! I was preventing myself from moving forward, I was my own worst enemy.
But my therapist INSISTED over and over I wasn’t. I was not allowed to call myself my own worst enemy. I was asked to give myself a break. For weeks on end I screamed figuratively and literally LOOK AT ME GIVING MYSELF A BREAK all the while I was still striving for one thing and one thing only – perfection. It’s a strength and a weakness all at the same time. My insanely high standards of myself and others was my downfall – not me. My insane desire to be everyone’s friend, make everyone happy did one thing and one thing only it made me miserable. It wasn’t ok that everyone was happy around me because all I did was resent the shit out of them. I might have been busting my ass on my therapy at work with friends but I was still trying to be perfect. It wasn’t until I stopped with trying to be perfect that I was able to finally truly give myself the much needed break I claimed to be taking all the while I was driving the crazy train bus. Fortunately for me I have an amazing mother, an empathic and very kind therapist who calls me on my shit and really really great friends. I have fucking amazing friends. AMAZING friends. And for the first in so long I feel GOOD. Even when I’m pissy I still feel good. Even I feel rushed I still feel good. There is lots and lots of good and pretty light at the end of my tunnel.
Oh and I feel pretty again. That has to be the bestest part of all of this. I feel pretty outside because I am really am pretty inside and not full of evil like I was convinced for way too long.
Thursday, January 27, 2011
And that was that
As I slowly baby step my way into this new way of thinking – positive versus negative – I realize for the first time in a long time I am not setting myself up for failure. I am no longer looking at the day, week or month as a long arduous uphill battle that I have no motivation to conquer. Like last week even when angst and anxiety creep into my brains I’m not freaked out. I’m cognizant and aware and literally for the very first time I am going with the flow. I used to pretend I knew what that term meant, ‘go with the flow’ and no my definition had nothing to do with my period. I thought if I thought I was going with the flow then I was. HA. Not so much. I was trying to control the flow – the speed, intensity, gallons pushed out per minute.
I understand now why 2010 was so very challenging for me. I was just coming to terms with two important things – number one recognizing that I am not the most important person in the world nor do I want to be and number two acknowledging the train wreck past sans denial and coming to terms with it. That’s enough to make a completely sane person go crazy and have a nervous breakdown, scratch that sane people do not need to come to terms with those things they never bother them to begin with hence the sanity.
During my many years of self hate and delusion that was fueled by hate, alcohol, gossip, anxiety, depression, dishonesty, you get it all the vices and then some, I was not putting two and two together. In my mess of a head 2 + 2 = like 90. I was always on fast forward, always craving more – more what? More everything, more attention, more alcohol, more ‘candy’, more boys, more BFFs, more parties, more fun, more more more. It was all about me me me. I even had chapstick that said It’s All About Me and I loved the roll. I was the loudmouth no wanted to sit next to at dinner. I was definitely the last person in the world anyone should have handed a baby to. I was not a good friend. I was not a coworker. I was not a good assistant in that I did not adhere to the most important and critical aspects of my own job – ethics and confidentiality. I allowed myself time and time and time again to be involved in chaotic nights, lies, blackmail, mean spirited hateful gossip.
Girls are down right evil at times and I was pretty fucking unbearable. Worst secret keeper ever. Worst friend. Talk about DENIAL. All those insanity spun years and me sitting pretty convinced I was untouchable. No one talked about ME behind my back, they wouldn’t, they couldn’t. I’m a great friend to them so they think. They would never betray me as I am betraying them via text message as they sit next to me spilling their guts about their latest heartache or break. OMG no never.
Then all that garbage I just mentioned turned on me and I became TOO AWARE of the wreckage. Way too fucking aware. Acknowledging the train wreck and coming to terms with the train wreck are two completely different approaches. Where as I thought I was leaping leap years ahead of myself by claiming responsibility for my past transgressions – LOOK AT ME, I WAS BAD AND NOW I’M GOOD , I was in fact sending myself into a deep dark downward spiral of yuck. It's called Depression and it's no fun at all. I’ve decided to write two posts on this being in the depression and being out of it. It will be my own yin and yang. This post now about the yuck and another post about all of the good that survived and/or happened during the yuck. Nothing is ever all bad or all good. I see that much clearer now. I’m no longer shrouded in horrible guilt and shame about badness in the past.
Depression is an evil monster that feeds on itself, similar to hate it can consume you and bring you to the depths of the most miserable places in the world on the INSIDE while on the OUTSIDE you are surrounded by love light and hope. My own head is truly one of the most frightening places to find yourself. HA to anyone who has tried, good lord my poor poor mother. What she has not gone through in all of this but I’m saving that for the post on the good. Every single moment of every single day was hell inside my head. Nothing was acceptable, nothing was right. Everything was boring, repetitive, non stop, annoying. Looking back I am fairly certain there were insanely long periods of time where I did not enjoy one single thing. Even breathing was upsetting because I did not want to be alive. When your brain is on repeat that there is no point waking up tomorrow it’s pretty hard to function. You’re not a normal person, you’re not thinking normal thoughts. You are aware of the mess you are in and/or created and your comfort zone is knowing you could end it all. You could drive off a bridge. You could drive off a cliff. You could take lots of certain OTC meds and never wake up. You know people who have succeeded and you envy them. You want to be a junkie on the street because at least they love something albeit drugs. Anything is better than you – who you are, where you are, what you want to do. Hopes and dreams do not exist when you’re depressed. Hopes and dreams are a noose around your neck. They suffocate you and wake you up at night. Hope, ha hope. There is no hope. If hope existed I would not be in the state I am in. Dreams, my dreams are nothing. I am nothing. You have everything. Your life is perfect and I fucking hate you. I hate your problems – what I wouldn’t give to have your problems. Oh my god your problems aren’t real problems, I could solve YOUR shit in a heart, I would NEVER end up like you I AM WAY TOO SMART. All is nothing and nothing is all. There is no beginning because the hell fire already consumed it. Life is sucked out of everyone and everything that exists around you. Inanimate objects infuriate you and nothing is ever good enough.
That’s a lot. It feels really good to get that OUT. I feel like a wave of water just splashed over me. I am very grateful for this forum as a way to keep moving myself forward. More soon, and on the good, the light the love and my many many hopes and dreams.
I understand now why 2010 was so very challenging for me. I was just coming to terms with two important things – number one recognizing that I am not the most important person in the world nor do I want to be and number two acknowledging the train wreck past sans denial and coming to terms with it. That’s enough to make a completely sane person go crazy and have a nervous breakdown, scratch that sane people do not need to come to terms with those things they never bother them to begin with hence the sanity.
During my many years of self hate and delusion that was fueled by hate, alcohol, gossip, anxiety, depression, dishonesty, you get it all the vices and then some, I was not putting two and two together. In my mess of a head 2 + 2 = like 90. I was always on fast forward, always craving more – more what? More everything, more attention, more alcohol, more ‘candy’, more boys, more BFFs, more parties, more fun, more more more. It was all about me me me. I even had chapstick that said It’s All About Me and I loved the roll. I was the loudmouth no wanted to sit next to at dinner. I was definitely the last person in the world anyone should have handed a baby to. I was not a good friend. I was not a coworker. I was not a good assistant in that I did not adhere to the most important and critical aspects of my own job – ethics and confidentiality. I allowed myself time and time and time again to be involved in chaotic nights, lies, blackmail, mean spirited hateful gossip.
Girls are down right evil at times and I was pretty fucking unbearable. Worst secret keeper ever. Worst friend. Talk about DENIAL. All those insanity spun years and me sitting pretty convinced I was untouchable. No one talked about ME behind my back, they wouldn’t, they couldn’t. I’m a great friend to them so they think. They would never betray me as I am betraying them via text message as they sit next to me spilling their guts about their latest heartache or break. OMG no never.
Then all that garbage I just mentioned turned on me and I became TOO AWARE of the wreckage. Way too fucking aware. Acknowledging the train wreck and coming to terms with the train wreck are two completely different approaches. Where as I thought I was leaping leap years ahead of myself by claiming responsibility for my past transgressions – LOOK AT ME, I WAS BAD AND NOW I’M GOOD , I was in fact sending myself into a deep dark downward spiral of yuck. It's called Depression and it's no fun at all. I’ve decided to write two posts on this being in the depression and being out of it. It will be my own yin and yang. This post now about the yuck and another post about all of the good that survived and/or happened during the yuck. Nothing is ever all bad or all good. I see that much clearer now. I’m no longer shrouded in horrible guilt and shame about badness in the past.
Depression is an evil monster that feeds on itself, similar to hate it can consume you and bring you to the depths of the most miserable places in the world on the INSIDE while on the OUTSIDE you are surrounded by love light and hope. My own head is truly one of the most frightening places to find yourself. HA to anyone who has tried, good lord my poor poor mother. What she has not gone through in all of this but I’m saving that for the post on the good. Every single moment of every single day was hell inside my head. Nothing was acceptable, nothing was right. Everything was boring, repetitive, non stop, annoying. Looking back I am fairly certain there were insanely long periods of time where I did not enjoy one single thing. Even breathing was upsetting because I did not want to be alive. When your brain is on repeat that there is no point waking up tomorrow it’s pretty hard to function. You’re not a normal person, you’re not thinking normal thoughts. You are aware of the mess you are in and/or created and your comfort zone is knowing you could end it all. You could drive off a bridge. You could drive off a cliff. You could take lots of certain OTC meds and never wake up. You know people who have succeeded and you envy them. You want to be a junkie on the street because at least they love something albeit drugs. Anything is better than you – who you are, where you are, what you want to do. Hopes and dreams do not exist when you’re depressed. Hopes and dreams are a noose around your neck. They suffocate you and wake you up at night. Hope, ha hope. There is no hope. If hope existed I would not be in the state I am in. Dreams, my dreams are nothing. I am nothing. You have everything. Your life is perfect and I fucking hate you. I hate your problems – what I wouldn’t give to have your problems. Oh my god your problems aren’t real problems, I could solve YOUR shit in a heart, I would NEVER end up like you I AM WAY TOO SMART. All is nothing and nothing is all. There is no beginning because the hell fire already consumed it. Life is sucked out of everyone and everything that exists around you. Inanimate objects infuriate you and nothing is ever good enough.
That’s a lot. It feels really good to get that OUT. I feel like a wave of water just splashed over me. I am very grateful for this forum as a way to keep moving myself forward. More soon, and on the good, the light the love and my many many hopes and dreams.
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