while sitting backstage at ren fest, i have copious amounts of time to think and consider. for a few hours of morning and afternoon, there's no one back there but people who're napping and such, and it gives the the opportunity to write, or read, or play solitare.
none of which i've done thus far, mainly because i'm lazy. i think. (;
anyway, the time in which i've been mulling has been informative, if not interesting for me. i've come up with a few main ideas that are rolling around in my brain, some of which make sense and some of which require further thought.
first of all is that i am sick of the games and drama that have evolved. after the other day when i talked with the crisis team in our county, i know i have options, and so does dan, if he wants to take them. i can support him and i can show up with him, but in the end, it's once again his decision, and not mine, and i have to keep that first in my mind. because otherwise i end up feeling as though i have enabled behavior that i don't think of as healthy.
part of my issue is that dan is going through all of this, and he needs to learn to deal with emotions that hurt in a healthy way, instead of hiding from them in a bottle, etc. we talked about this last night; i realize he is trying his hardest, but sometimes my inner taskmaster wants more. and there is only so much i can ask of him.
so i guess my thing at the moment is that i have to learn when to walk away. yes, this sounds like a kenny rogers song: know when to walk away, know when to run. but it's harder to apply than learning some other habits.
the second thing is that i'm not angry with serena any more. if i am, it's not for what she did in may, it's for what she's doing now, because to me, it feels childish. my sister beth gave me the silent treatment when she was 13. i'm a bit older now, and so is she, and so is serena. perhaps, in serena's world, this is her kenny rogers moment and this is when she had to walk away. that's fine. but it would have been nice to get some notice. it would have been nice to know she cared.
doing what she is doing makes me think that she does not care, that she never did care. i'd like to think differently, because she was my friend, and there are still a number of years of living left to be done, and she's generally a great person. perhaps, like dan, she is having a hard time forgiving herself. i haven't got the foggiest, and at this point, i'm not sure if she ever will share any of it.
but instead of dwelling on the fact that she's not saying anything, i have to focus on the fact that by doing this, she is also missing out on things. if she was talking i could tell her about the ren fest, and how highland fling was last weekend and she missed the kilt contest, and how they had a t-shirt this year that said "official kilt inspector."
course, she's also missing a lot of basic bipolar drama. i can say in all honesty, though, that you have to take the sweet with the sour--there's no way around it. that's what life dishes out.
i tried to be angry yesterday, when i was driving home, and i realized that i just wasn't. i was annoyed because she's removed herself from the board, but i wasn't angry. i've had to grow a set of cojones to deal with what's going on; so has eero. dan's having to deal with all kinds of emotions he never recognized before, and has had to develop tools to deal with them. i'm feeling annoyed because despite the fact that i was ticked off at her about the affair, i forgave her.
which makes me then wonder if she ever did care, and then i'm back to square one, not angry, just wondering, and trying not to. the saying goes that actions speak louder than words; i read her letter, where she said she cares, but then i'm not sure how to interpret her actions. which at the moment, are telling me that she really doesn't give a damn, when i hope that she does.
so i'm trying to deal with what i've been thinking. about knowing when to walk away so that i'm not enabling, about how i'm feeling about serena's actions. i'm trying to find a way to make it all work properly and sometimes i fail and sometimes i keep going. all i know is that i'm tired, and when i'm tired, sitting in skirts and a bodice and being sweaty and warm, and dozing in my chair, the ideas flow like honey.
off to work, hugs all.
Monday, August 29, 2005
Tuesday, August 23, 2005
leo the lion
i forgot how much i enjoyed reading leo buscaglia until last night. i'd loaned the book to dan, who wasn't in the mood to read it at the time, and just skimmed through it again last night while he was reading. it's always interesting to read because no matter where you are on this journey of life, it applies. the name of the book, since i seem to have left that out, is Love. buscaglia actually taught a class on love, and traveled around much in the manner of many other mental prophets trying to let the world know about his particular insight.
i was thinking about him yesterday, after reading nathan's blog--he was wondering where all the mystics have gone. i think there's a wealth of them out here now--just depends on your version of mystic.
but this book is something that moves and fits. one of the main ideas is that love is a learned phenomenon, that you learn it from your family, that if you didn't learn a good version, it doesn't mean that you cannot keep learning, or find a new way to view the life you have.
the last poem here isn't a leo buscaglia quote; i was trying to find the one about the plum and the banana, but to no success. i found this while searching for more information about christine quintasket, the first published native american woman. (don't ask, i got distracted on a quotes page...) of course, this isn't a quote from her, either. but it's interesting to me because it goes in the direction of leo buscaglia's works and ideas, but it's not his.
i think mysticism is shared out--everyone has a piece of it inside, waiting to be revealed. leo buscaglia is just as much a prophet or mystic as this unnamed person quoted below, just as much of a mystic as anyone i know. just my two cents on that subject. (;
***
"I think over again my small adventures
My fears, those small ones that seemed so big
For all the vital things I had to get and reach
And yet there is only one great thing
The only thing
To live to see the great day that dawns
And the light that fills the world."
- Unknown Inuit
i was thinking about him yesterday, after reading nathan's blog--he was wondering where all the mystics have gone. i think there's a wealth of them out here now--just depends on your version of mystic.
but this book is something that moves and fits. one of the main ideas is that love is a learned phenomenon, that you learn it from your family, that if you didn't learn a good version, it doesn't mean that you cannot keep learning, or find a new way to view the life you have.
the last poem here isn't a leo buscaglia quote; i was trying to find the one about the plum and the banana, but to no success. i found this while searching for more information about christine quintasket, the first published native american woman. (don't ask, i got distracted on a quotes page...) of course, this isn't a quote from her, either. but it's interesting to me because it goes in the direction of leo buscaglia's works and ideas, but it's not his.
i think mysticism is shared out--everyone has a piece of it inside, waiting to be revealed. leo buscaglia is just as much a prophet or mystic as this unnamed person quoted below, just as much of a mystic as anyone i know. just my two cents on that subject. (;
***
"I think over again my small adventures
My fears, those small ones that seemed so big
For all the vital things I had to get and reach
And yet there is only one great thing
The only thing
To live to see the great day that dawns
And the light that fills the world."
- Unknown Inuit
Monday, August 22, 2005
muscles
so i took this gig weekends at the renaissance festival, west of here, being an assistant stage manager. as with all other things involving theatrical people, the drama was palpable the moment i got there, and just got worse the longer i remained. but it's something that i'm used to, either at work or at home, for the better part of my life, and something that i can handle.
i hauled water and ice, moved tables, took out the huge garbage can. it's more of a support position and janitorial duty than really being any kind of stage manager. in fact, my stage manager himself, sonja, doesn't seem to be terribly involved at all with what is going on. which is disheartening and a bit annoying.
i guess when i was a stage manager, not to toot my own horn, i ran a tight ship. it's a tad frustrating, now.
but it's good to get out of the house. dan's trying his hardest to keep his chin up despite adversity; i do understand that. wander over to his blog (wastedscenes.blogspot.com) and check it out--he's come up with his own version of his own tao, his own philosophy on life. some of it is very profound, some of it is just like that ship that's no longer my own--frustrating, because i cannot change his mind.
i keep going back to epictetus' ideal, his philosophy that we often cannot change the situation in which we find ourselves, but we can change our reaction to the situation.
it's like flexing a mental muscle.
my shoulders are hurting; it reminds me of what i did this weekend. it reminds me of all things festival--the front that's put up, the characters assumed, the smell of food frying and the sound of the cannon, booming over all manner of laughter and cries.
sometimes when you flex your muscles, the impression stays with you for a while. you get cramps and aches in places you'd rather not consider. it makes a dent in your psyche, i think, to do manual labor. stimulating your whole body, in my opinion, stimulates your whole mind. it's the idea of blood going all over, rushing, rushing. you're focused on something other than what's roiling in your head, so you can focus more clearly on it. you're removing yourself from the situation, merely by raking the yard or hauling planks.
i think too that once your body is exhausted, once it is fed and watered and brushed down in the manner of a draft horse, your mind can unwind and stretch, and that is when the real thinking can begin.
i'm learning that there are many ways to move through life--some are sedentary, like this typing motion in which i'm moving now, and some are active, like scooping ice into silver pitchers. both occupy your hands, and both allow your mind to continue thinking along other paths. some of my best thinking is done while i'm driving. but that's just me. i also know that after doing something very manual and basic all weekend, it allows me to flex things that aren't flexed on a daily basis, muscles that i normally ignore, like these aching shoulders, which is nothing a good heating pad, time and the odd back rub cannot solve. it gives me something else to focus on, something active.
it doesn't mean that i won't go for a walk tonight; i need to keep that up, too. so tie your shoes, bam bam, just because we're doing laundry tonight doesn't mean that you're getting out of a good walk. (;
off to work. hugs all.
i hauled water and ice, moved tables, took out the huge garbage can. it's more of a support position and janitorial duty than really being any kind of stage manager. in fact, my stage manager himself, sonja, doesn't seem to be terribly involved at all with what is going on. which is disheartening and a bit annoying.
i guess when i was a stage manager, not to toot my own horn, i ran a tight ship. it's a tad frustrating, now.
but it's good to get out of the house. dan's trying his hardest to keep his chin up despite adversity; i do understand that. wander over to his blog (wastedscenes.blogspot.com) and check it out--he's come up with his own version of his own tao, his own philosophy on life. some of it is very profound, some of it is just like that ship that's no longer my own--frustrating, because i cannot change his mind.
i keep going back to epictetus' ideal, his philosophy that we often cannot change the situation in which we find ourselves, but we can change our reaction to the situation.
it's like flexing a mental muscle.
my shoulders are hurting; it reminds me of what i did this weekend. it reminds me of all things festival--the front that's put up, the characters assumed, the smell of food frying and the sound of the cannon, booming over all manner of laughter and cries.
sometimes when you flex your muscles, the impression stays with you for a while. you get cramps and aches in places you'd rather not consider. it makes a dent in your psyche, i think, to do manual labor. stimulating your whole body, in my opinion, stimulates your whole mind. it's the idea of blood going all over, rushing, rushing. you're focused on something other than what's roiling in your head, so you can focus more clearly on it. you're removing yourself from the situation, merely by raking the yard or hauling planks.
i think too that once your body is exhausted, once it is fed and watered and brushed down in the manner of a draft horse, your mind can unwind and stretch, and that is when the real thinking can begin.
i'm learning that there are many ways to move through life--some are sedentary, like this typing motion in which i'm moving now, and some are active, like scooping ice into silver pitchers. both occupy your hands, and both allow your mind to continue thinking along other paths. some of my best thinking is done while i'm driving. but that's just me. i also know that after doing something very manual and basic all weekend, it allows me to flex things that aren't flexed on a daily basis, muscles that i normally ignore, like these aching shoulders, which is nothing a good heating pad, time and the odd back rub cannot solve. it gives me something else to focus on, something active.
it doesn't mean that i won't go for a walk tonight; i need to keep that up, too. so tie your shoes, bam bam, just because we're doing laundry tonight doesn't mean that you're getting out of a good walk. (;
off to work. hugs all.
Friday, August 19, 2005
nicknames
i've had quite a few nicks in my life, mainly due in part to genetics. i blame it on my hair--which is red. i really prefer the across-the-pond "ginger" because it sounds so much nicer, and is actually more true to the color. my hair's not fire-engine red, it's orange. but orange sounds all wrong, and ginger sounds classy.
i think.
anyway, due to my dna, i've been nicked quite a few things--red, rusty, pebbles (yes, from the flinstones) but none of those stuck. i had nicks in high school that weren't particularly fitting--walter, the kgb, kimmy jean--and some in my family that i just can't share (hee hee hee), but it wasn't until college that i had one that was glued on:
kimbo the destroyer.
i don't remember doing anything memorable that had people thinking, she just destroys everything, doesn't she? no one was walking in fear of their lives when i was around.
in the same breath, i've grown into this nickname. i've become something of a destructive force, when it is required of me. now, i don't mean that i'm a wrecking ball, but if the tub needs to be cleaned, i will destroy those bad-ass soap scum molecules. i also have a tendency to make computer systems frizz, time fall in on itself, and baking disasters just reproduce in my prescence.
i mean, cleaning is good destruction, but setting goals in more of a genghis khan sort of way, rather than an, i'm-wandering-in-some-direction way. i just need some focus, and i think genghis was pretty damed focused. maybe i need a different, less bloody role model...nah. (;
i didn't know what i was up against (kim's lack of goals/kim's behavior v. kim) when i was young--i didn't know how to deal with anything, in fact. i still do a lot of things out of fear--the only reason i emailed to find out about credits for my college degree was because, as dan pointed out, i was petrified that my psychologist was going to be furious with me if i didn't. "you're not paying her to be angry at you," he said.
the same thing goes for disappointment--i despise letting people down. but for some reason, the people i care about the most--family and friends--i let down often, by dropping the ball or just not completing things that they see as normal.
normal is a setting on my rice steamer. normal is something that means "i vacuumed my house last week." normal is boring, normal is just plain old unrealistic for someone who answers to kimbo the destroyer.
yeah, maybe it's "normal" for most people to have finished their degree, gotten married, bought a house and/or had 2.3 kids by the time they're my age. all i know is that my life has been normal for me, and that's all you can ask.
part of me is learning to like the fact that i'm just ME--perpetually late and perpetually giggly, wandering, distracted by shiny objects and pretty colors. part of me is trying very hard to see that the place i'm in is the place i need to be--living, laughing, crying, surrounded by a group of eclectic friends, with nicknames that are just as fitting and strange as mine--bam-bam, lunchmeat, corpse, spoon, terror--to name a few. i need to step back and see me experiencing my version of mundane, not anyone else's.
i am at such a different spot than i was in 2nd grade when my math teacher told my mother that i could be such a good student if i just applied myself...but i just keep thinking of that song, not sure who sings it, but the line goes something like "i'm looking at the world/from the bottom of a well." doesn't mean i can't do something while i'm at the bottom of the well, now, does it? perhaps i don't have everything i need to get out of the well right now. but perhaps what i need is something that no one else can give me--the power to change my attitude, and become attuned to the vagrant thinking pattern that i've lived but not been aware of for my entire life.
my mantra for today, and what i'm going to have to keep trying to do, is what dan is trying to do every day too--be constructive with what i have--my relationships, my health, my goals, my patterns. there are so many things about which i can be constructive, where previously i've been destructive.
because i can see the destructive tendencies that i have--they're not always present for others to view, but i can see them. most of them are thought processes, but some are actual habits that affect others. it's harder work than i've ever done, and i'm undermining my own progress if i don't actually attack what i see as a destructive pattern, in the manner of mr. khan himself.
there's going to be setbacks; i can see that, because i've experienced them, and i can see dan experiencing them too, in a much different manner, because he's up against a much different version of reality than i am. again, i need to see my version of mundane, not dan's, not anyone else's, but it helps to know that others are trying to be constructive with their tendencies, too, that i'm not all alone on this path of self-exploration.
different song, by stabbing westward: "i cannot save you/i can barely save myself."
please note: this is not, i repeat...NOT an invite to be re-nicked kimbo the constructor. cause that just ain't happening. i don't want to sound like a building block or any kind of union laborer.
anyhow, the positivity of this blog is nearly clogging my arteries. i better get to work in the world of apathy, to counterbalance this preachy attitude. (;
(; cheers, k
i think.
anyway, due to my dna, i've been nicked quite a few things--red, rusty, pebbles (yes, from the flinstones) but none of those stuck. i had nicks in high school that weren't particularly fitting--walter, the kgb, kimmy jean--and some in my family that i just can't share (hee hee hee), but it wasn't until college that i had one that was glued on:
kimbo the destroyer.
i don't remember doing anything memorable that had people thinking, she just destroys everything, doesn't she? no one was walking in fear of their lives when i was around.
in the same breath, i've grown into this nickname. i've become something of a destructive force, when it is required of me. now, i don't mean that i'm a wrecking ball, but if the tub needs to be cleaned, i will destroy those bad-ass soap scum molecules. i also have a tendency to make computer systems frizz, time fall in on itself, and baking disasters just reproduce in my prescence.
i mean, cleaning is good destruction, but setting goals in more of a genghis khan sort of way, rather than an, i'm-wandering-in-some-direction way. i just need some focus, and i think genghis was pretty damed focused. maybe i need a different, less bloody role model...nah. (;
i didn't know what i was up against (kim's lack of goals/kim's behavior v. kim) when i was young--i didn't know how to deal with anything, in fact. i still do a lot of things out of fear--the only reason i emailed to find out about credits for my college degree was because, as dan pointed out, i was petrified that my psychologist was going to be furious with me if i didn't. "you're not paying her to be angry at you," he said.
the same thing goes for disappointment--i despise letting people down. but for some reason, the people i care about the most--family and friends--i let down often, by dropping the ball or just not completing things that they see as normal.
normal is a setting on my rice steamer. normal is something that means "i vacuumed my house last week." normal is boring, normal is just plain old unrealistic for someone who answers to kimbo the destroyer.
yeah, maybe it's "normal" for most people to have finished their degree, gotten married, bought a house and/or had 2.3 kids by the time they're my age. all i know is that my life has been normal for me, and that's all you can ask.
part of me is learning to like the fact that i'm just ME--perpetually late and perpetually giggly, wandering, distracted by shiny objects and pretty colors. part of me is trying very hard to see that the place i'm in is the place i need to be--living, laughing, crying, surrounded by a group of eclectic friends, with nicknames that are just as fitting and strange as mine--bam-bam, lunchmeat, corpse, spoon, terror--to name a few. i need to step back and see me experiencing my version of mundane, not anyone else's.
i am at such a different spot than i was in 2nd grade when my math teacher told my mother that i could be such a good student if i just applied myself...but i just keep thinking of that song, not sure who sings it, but the line goes something like "i'm looking at the world/from the bottom of a well." doesn't mean i can't do something while i'm at the bottom of the well, now, does it? perhaps i don't have everything i need to get out of the well right now. but perhaps what i need is something that no one else can give me--the power to change my attitude, and become attuned to the vagrant thinking pattern that i've lived but not been aware of for my entire life.
my mantra for today, and what i'm going to have to keep trying to do, is what dan is trying to do every day too--be constructive with what i have--my relationships, my health, my goals, my patterns. there are so many things about which i can be constructive, where previously i've been destructive.
because i can see the destructive tendencies that i have--they're not always present for others to view, but i can see them. most of them are thought processes, but some are actual habits that affect others. it's harder work than i've ever done, and i'm undermining my own progress if i don't actually attack what i see as a destructive pattern, in the manner of mr. khan himself.
there's going to be setbacks; i can see that, because i've experienced them, and i can see dan experiencing them too, in a much different manner, because he's up against a much different version of reality than i am. again, i need to see my version of mundane, not dan's, not anyone else's, but it helps to know that others are trying to be constructive with their tendencies, too, that i'm not all alone on this path of self-exploration.
different song, by stabbing westward: "i cannot save you/i can barely save myself."
please note: this is not, i repeat...NOT an invite to be re-nicked kimbo the constructor. cause that just ain't happening. i don't want to sound like a building block or any kind of union laborer.
anyhow, the positivity of this blog is nearly clogging my arteries. i better get to work in the world of apathy, to counterbalance this preachy attitude. (;
(; cheers, k
Sunday, August 14, 2005
it comes to this...
i'm trying to leave the house and get up to the st paul farmer's market. it's the locally grown, organic sister of the minneapolis farmer's market. i got online 20 minutes ago to pull up the directions again because i can't remember what street to turn at...and as luck would have it, i've been so distracted by the flickering screens of yahoo! and other assorted email stuff that i have yet to print the directions.
*sigh*
i had this ridiculous hope that i'd do this prior to 7 am, too. but i could not fall asleep last night, and dan and i chatted until past 12...and then my cat head butted my nose at about five and i was up for a bit...so i slept way past 7 am.
however, i am craving minnesota grown potatoes. they taste different than the taters you get at the grocery store. it sounds picky, and it probably is. but minnesota grown potatoes taste more tender.
i don't know, ask my tongue.
today is also the day i get to clean the restrooms in the house. it's my turn, and as usual i'm not looking forward to doing so. but at the same time, it means they'll be clean, and that's always wa good thing in my mind. my only complaint about housekeeping at the moment is the kitchen--which is always in a state of flux due to the whole concept of three meals a day, especially on weekends.
hi, my name is kim, and i'm anal about cleanliness in the kitchen and bathroom.
clutter, whatever. but clean is a must.
so it comes to this--i have to get my ass out of the chair and truck up to st paul and get my tender taters, and then come home and clean my bathroom to the nth degree.
and then i can watch battlestar galactica...which was my biggest media purchase yet, season one. lovely. (; more shiny screens to capture my goldfish-sized attention span...heh heh heh...
*sigh*
i had this ridiculous hope that i'd do this prior to 7 am, too. but i could not fall asleep last night, and dan and i chatted until past 12...and then my cat head butted my nose at about five and i was up for a bit...so i slept way past 7 am.
however, i am craving minnesota grown potatoes. they taste different than the taters you get at the grocery store. it sounds picky, and it probably is. but minnesota grown potatoes taste more tender.
i don't know, ask my tongue.
today is also the day i get to clean the restrooms in the house. it's my turn, and as usual i'm not looking forward to doing so. but at the same time, it means they'll be clean, and that's always wa good thing in my mind. my only complaint about housekeeping at the moment is the kitchen--which is always in a state of flux due to the whole concept of three meals a day, especially on weekends.
hi, my name is kim, and i'm anal about cleanliness in the kitchen and bathroom.
clutter, whatever. but clean is a must.
so it comes to this--i have to get my ass out of the chair and truck up to st paul and get my tender taters, and then come home and clean my bathroom to the nth degree.
and then i can watch battlestar galactica...which was my biggest media purchase yet, season one. lovely. (; more shiny screens to capture my goldfish-sized attention span...heh heh heh...
Wednesday, August 10, 2005
5 minutes
i haven't set a timer, but i've alloted myself 5 minutes to type this morning. we'll see what i come up with, or rather, how much i come up with, or how far over i go...
right now, it's 743 am.
yesterday i was half an hour late for work. i think the apathy is getting worse. i'm tired today, but not nearly as tired as yesterday. i just feel like i'm plodding along, no end in sight, when i could be skipping or running or something. i'm not even meandering, i'm just plodding.
745 now.
i keep thinking about the homework that my tdoc assigned to me, and it still seems insurmountable. i think my secondary issue is that i feel like i don't want to put pressure on people who don't care about me. i'm trying to change that attitude because i dislike the thought that i am being a hypocrite--it's difficult for me to not care about someone, so why should it be so easy for someone to not care about me?
delusion, i tell you, is a beautiful gray place. 746 am.
i only have one more minute before i have to disconnect. i'm trying to drum up some motivation to do anything--last night i got home and dan and i did go for a nice walk in the newly-unhumid outdoors. but i'm trying to stir it up so that i do more than just walk. there are things i need to complete--not just moving the dresser upstairs, thank you dan, but maybe moving some things INTO the dresser. not just airing out the trunk, but actually cleaning up the outside, too. not just ruminating on the homework, but actually completing it.
anyway, it's 748, and my time is up.
right now, it's 743 am.
yesterday i was half an hour late for work. i think the apathy is getting worse. i'm tired today, but not nearly as tired as yesterday. i just feel like i'm plodding along, no end in sight, when i could be skipping or running or something. i'm not even meandering, i'm just plodding.
745 now.
i keep thinking about the homework that my tdoc assigned to me, and it still seems insurmountable. i think my secondary issue is that i feel like i don't want to put pressure on people who don't care about me. i'm trying to change that attitude because i dislike the thought that i am being a hypocrite--it's difficult for me to not care about someone, so why should it be so easy for someone to not care about me?
delusion, i tell you, is a beautiful gray place. 746 am.
i only have one more minute before i have to disconnect. i'm trying to drum up some motivation to do anything--last night i got home and dan and i did go for a nice walk in the newly-unhumid outdoors. but i'm trying to stir it up so that i do more than just walk. there are things i need to complete--not just moving the dresser upstairs, thank you dan, but maybe moving some things INTO the dresser. not just airing out the trunk, but actually cleaning up the outside, too. not just ruminating on the homework, but actually completing it.
anyway, it's 748, and my time is up.
Tuesday, August 09, 2005
balancing act
sometimes i lose my balance. it's not just because of the deaf ear thing, either; it's because i let myself get really skewered by the day's events, or because i worry myself into a hissy fit.
i'd like to say that i'm a very balanced individual, but i'm not. if i'm doing something, it's either all or nothing. there doesn't seem to be a happy medium. things run through me--to explain, i think of it in terms of my reading habits. it's very, very difficult for me to sit down and just read one chapter of a book. i want to just read the whole thing, or read until my eyes close because i'm too tired to keep reading.
which i think is why i have so many books by my bed.
but it leadeth me down strange paths, to be this way. last night i should have been reading my payroll book, for class tonight. but instead i watched family guy w/ dan, ran to the store, ate dinner, and then nearly finished a book before nodding off around midnight.
someday i'd like to be one of those consistent people who reads a chapter a night, and has the self control or whatever it is to STOP and then just read the next chapter the next night.
do i hang on because i'm afraid? i know that one of the reasons i enjoy books so much is that the future is all contained in that one handy little fiber-laden binding. the people i'm reading about have a pre-ordained existence. it's all very safe, no matter what kind of book you're reading. it has a beginning, a middle, an end. i quake, thinking about this, because it reminds me that i had a beginning, i'm at the middle, and somewhere in the hazy future is my own end.
yesterday at work i couldn't focus. i was worried because i hadn't heard from dan much, but then my own emails in return were sporadic. got home to find that he'd cycled from manic over the weekend to depressed today, for good reasons, all of it. sometimes i envy his cycling, as he goes from optimistic and engaged in things to tired and listless. i just always feel tired and listless; i have to really force myself into action, when i know it's required.
right now, i need to force myself out of the chair for numerous reasons--mainly because it's almost 815 and i have to be at work in 45 minutes, 15 of which i should be driving. i still have to shower, dress, primp and make lunch. and clean the litterbox, quickly, as well, from the odors wafting about the house. and yet i type.
i feel like the family reunion, about which i'll write more later, was the last thing on my list. i feel a bit at sea, because i'm not looking forward to anything large and event-related. it's down to the minutae, which aren't a bad place to be, but at the same time, aren't exactly fun all the time, either. there are things about which i am excited--the ravenloft game, autumn rolling in, seeing my therapist, sci fi fridays... sometimes it just gets difficult to hang onto optimism when the cloud of pessimism over my head starts to rain.
but i'm trying. i'm going to get ready in record time and speed to work, and go to class tonight, and smile the whole time. home around 8 and then in bed by 10. it just doesn't sound like what i want on my menu today, but it's what's there, so i guess i should try to make the best of it.
cheers (:
i'd like to say that i'm a very balanced individual, but i'm not. if i'm doing something, it's either all or nothing. there doesn't seem to be a happy medium. things run through me--to explain, i think of it in terms of my reading habits. it's very, very difficult for me to sit down and just read one chapter of a book. i want to just read the whole thing, or read until my eyes close because i'm too tired to keep reading.
which i think is why i have so many books by my bed.
but it leadeth me down strange paths, to be this way. last night i should have been reading my payroll book, for class tonight. but instead i watched family guy w/ dan, ran to the store, ate dinner, and then nearly finished a book before nodding off around midnight.
someday i'd like to be one of those consistent people who reads a chapter a night, and has the self control or whatever it is to STOP and then just read the next chapter the next night.
do i hang on because i'm afraid? i know that one of the reasons i enjoy books so much is that the future is all contained in that one handy little fiber-laden binding. the people i'm reading about have a pre-ordained existence. it's all very safe, no matter what kind of book you're reading. it has a beginning, a middle, an end. i quake, thinking about this, because it reminds me that i had a beginning, i'm at the middle, and somewhere in the hazy future is my own end.
yesterday at work i couldn't focus. i was worried because i hadn't heard from dan much, but then my own emails in return were sporadic. got home to find that he'd cycled from manic over the weekend to depressed today, for good reasons, all of it. sometimes i envy his cycling, as he goes from optimistic and engaged in things to tired and listless. i just always feel tired and listless; i have to really force myself into action, when i know it's required.
right now, i need to force myself out of the chair for numerous reasons--mainly because it's almost 815 and i have to be at work in 45 minutes, 15 of which i should be driving. i still have to shower, dress, primp and make lunch. and clean the litterbox, quickly, as well, from the odors wafting about the house. and yet i type.
i feel like the family reunion, about which i'll write more later, was the last thing on my list. i feel a bit at sea, because i'm not looking forward to anything large and event-related. it's down to the minutae, which aren't a bad place to be, but at the same time, aren't exactly fun all the time, either. there are things about which i am excited--the ravenloft game, autumn rolling in, seeing my therapist, sci fi fridays... sometimes it just gets difficult to hang onto optimism when the cloud of pessimism over my head starts to rain.
but i'm trying. i'm going to get ready in record time and speed to work, and go to class tonight, and smile the whole time. home around 8 and then in bed by 10. it just doesn't sound like what i want on my menu today, but it's what's there, so i guess i should try to make the best of it.
cheers (:
Wednesday, August 03, 2005
32 ounces
so yesterday was my busy day. at 8 i saw helene, my psychologist, who's on the verge of a diagnosis of ADD with dysthymia. nice to know that it's natural for me to be feeling this way, and to have felt this way, for years. i think the most interesting part was when we started chatting about my childhood, and i remembered having panic attacks as a child, and mom giving me a paper lunch sack to breathe in.
last night class was cancelled, which was good because i had to call home as there was panic on the homestead monday, mom tore her retina in a few places and had a heck of a time getting it fixed--in ty pical whalen fashion, she went one place, was sent another place, got all ready for the surgery, and the machine broke...so then got sent to the er because the surgery HAD to be done yesterday to reduce the risk of retinal detachment...and now is on bed rest until tomorrow. my mom's an active person, and the bed rest is driving her somewhat batty, as she has to lay there with her eyes shut, flat on her back. she said that she's tired of listening to the television and stuff...so is hoping that someone will drop off a book on tape, or that dad will locate one, so she has something to do that doesn't make her want to open her eyes. she's also worried about the health insurance--as discussed by me previously, healthcare SUCKS ASS and the fact that she got sent from one dr to another probably won't go over so well with their provider. which in my opinion is pure and utter bullshit. but that's just me.
anyway, i asked mom about the paper bag--she doesn't remember giving me one, but she remembers her dad having to breathe in a paper bag because he had panic attacks. we also talked about when i was younger and teased, and mom explained that it went a bit further than just name calling. apparently the girls on the street would ask for me to come out and play, and then boss me around to a ridiculous extent. i think i must have been their personal living doll, that type of thing. mom remembers them making me walk a certain number of steps behind them, and all kinds of random crap. i don't remember that much at all. mom also talked about how she wondered, when i was as young as 3, if i'd been molested or something by a boy, as i hid when they were around, or didn't want to go outside.
it makes me wonder. i don't remember anything happening. i don't know that i want to, either. i think about the fears that drive me, the worries that have been installed by time, and i'm not sure i care from where they spring. i just want to be able to deal with what i've got now. which is closing in on a diagnosis, and therefore, a treatment plan.
i guess i matched 6 of the 9 ADD attributes--two of which i had adapted in my life so that i don't go completely over the edge. one was listening--helene asked if i was ever accused of being a bad listener, and for the most part, i've not. but i have to wonder if that's due to the whole half-deaf thing--i'm so focused when someone is talking, due to my physical deficiency, that it makes me wonder if i have made up for the mental deficiency. the other thing i don't do a ton of is lose items--at least the important items. i think that is also adapted--i have a hook for my keys, a basket for mail, a place to put my purse... i'm sure we'll go more in depth, and she has 3 tests she wants me to take, to confirm things.
ADD and dysthymia go hand in hand; i remember talking to my nathan about that, too. it's interesting to think about that in terms of my childhood, and school, and then college and the after college years. i wonder how long i've been stuggling with this type of issue--has it been since i was little, and mom used to accuse me of making mountains out of molehills? has it only been getting worse?
at least now i feel like i have some kind of direction. working with helene has given me that much, and i'm sure that as time goes on and i get more homework, i'll feel better about where i am and what i'm doing, where i'm going, etc.
after my mental probing, i went in and had an ultrasound, as my doctor was afraid that i possibly had an ovarian cyst. i adore ultrasounds, and most stuff dealing with healthcare and viewing the inside workings of my body. it's absorbing to watch the little screen and see organs working, arteries thumping away. so far, per the technician, she didn't see anything cyst-like, or any scar tissue or endometreosis, and said i could come back at any time because i was, and i quote: "set up like a textbook." yay for me. (;
the bummer part of ultrasounds is the water. about 45 mintues prior, you're supposed to drink 32 ounces of water. which is an ocean, for me. i get teased already that my bladder is the size of a kiwi, so drinking that much water and having to wander around the clinic after that--check in at radiology in the lower level, only to be told that i have to go to 3rd floor ob/gyn because all of radiology's ultrasounds are in use...troop upstairs and then have to wait, which isn't bad except for the fact that i'm about to pee my pants, and dancing around in my chair like a 7-year-old... but the fact that the tech thought things looked good was a nice relief.
my only big fear right now is the medical bills. they're going to pile up rapidly, at this rate. ugh. which means i should be getting ready for work, right this minute. but i'd rather be typing, and thinking about how much 32 ounces of water actually is, and how that affected my body yesterday, and made my kidneys run a foot race...
last night class was cancelled, which was good because i had to call home as there was panic on the homestead monday, mom tore her retina in a few places and had a heck of a time getting it fixed--in ty pical whalen fashion, she went one place, was sent another place, got all ready for the surgery, and the machine broke...so then got sent to the er because the surgery HAD to be done yesterday to reduce the risk of retinal detachment...and now is on bed rest until tomorrow. my mom's an active person, and the bed rest is driving her somewhat batty, as she has to lay there with her eyes shut, flat on her back. she said that she's tired of listening to the television and stuff...so is hoping that someone will drop off a book on tape, or that dad will locate one, so she has something to do that doesn't make her want to open her eyes. she's also worried about the health insurance--as discussed by me previously, healthcare SUCKS ASS and the fact that she got sent from one dr to another probably won't go over so well with their provider. which in my opinion is pure and utter bullshit. but that's just me.
anyway, i asked mom about the paper bag--she doesn't remember giving me one, but she remembers her dad having to breathe in a paper bag because he had panic attacks. we also talked about when i was younger and teased, and mom explained that it went a bit further than just name calling. apparently the girls on the street would ask for me to come out and play, and then boss me around to a ridiculous extent. i think i must have been their personal living doll, that type of thing. mom remembers them making me walk a certain number of steps behind them, and all kinds of random crap. i don't remember that much at all. mom also talked about how she wondered, when i was as young as 3, if i'd been molested or something by a boy, as i hid when they were around, or didn't want to go outside.
it makes me wonder. i don't remember anything happening. i don't know that i want to, either. i think about the fears that drive me, the worries that have been installed by time, and i'm not sure i care from where they spring. i just want to be able to deal with what i've got now. which is closing in on a diagnosis, and therefore, a treatment plan.
i guess i matched 6 of the 9 ADD attributes--two of which i had adapted in my life so that i don't go completely over the edge. one was listening--helene asked if i was ever accused of being a bad listener, and for the most part, i've not. but i have to wonder if that's due to the whole half-deaf thing--i'm so focused when someone is talking, due to my physical deficiency, that it makes me wonder if i have made up for the mental deficiency. the other thing i don't do a ton of is lose items--at least the important items. i think that is also adapted--i have a hook for my keys, a basket for mail, a place to put my purse... i'm sure we'll go more in depth, and she has 3 tests she wants me to take, to confirm things.
ADD and dysthymia go hand in hand; i remember talking to my nathan about that, too. it's interesting to think about that in terms of my childhood, and school, and then college and the after college years. i wonder how long i've been stuggling with this type of issue--has it been since i was little, and mom used to accuse me of making mountains out of molehills? has it only been getting worse?
at least now i feel like i have some kind of direction. working with helene has given me that much, and i'm sure that as time goes on and i get more homework, i'll feel better about where i am and what i'm doing, where i'm going, etc.
after my mental probing, i went in and had an ultrasound, as my doctor was afraid that i possibly had an ovarian cyst. i adore ultrasounds, and most stuff dealing with healthcare and viewing the inside workings of my body. it's absorbing to watch the little screen and see organs working, arteries thumping away. so far, per the technician, she didn't see anything cyst-like, or any scar tissue or endometreosis, and said i could come back at any time because i was, and i quote: "set up like a textbook." yay for me. (;
the bummer part of ultrasounds is the water. about 45 mintues prior, you're supposed to drink 32 ounces of water. which is an ocean, for me. i get teased already that my bladder is the size of a kiwi, so drinking that much water and having to wander around the clinic after that--check in at radiology in the lower level, only to be told that i have to go to 3rd floor ob/gyn because all of radiology's ultrasounds are in use...troop upstairs and then have to wait, which isn't bad except for the fact that i'm about to pee my pants, and dancing around in my chair like a 7-year-old... but the fact that the tech thought things looked good was a nice relief.
my only big fear right now is the medical bills. they're going to pile up rapidly, at this rate. ugh. which means i should be getting ready for work, right this minute. but i'd rather be typing, and thinking about how much 32 ounces of water actually is, and how that affected my body yesterday, and made my kidneys run a foot race...
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