lately i've been doing a lot of that. with friends, with writing, with whatever form of mental vomiting i can do. i keep thinking of that one print, the one of the woman sleeping and that little dark gremlin bending over her, sitting on her chest.
i feel like that's what i've got. when i stand up, it sits on my shoulder. when i sleep, it curls up near my belly. it's on the edge of the tub, it's waiting for me when i have nothing to occupy my thoughts.
this morning dan was looking at this book nathan loaned him, called delivered from distraction. it's for folks w/ add but add and bipolar are often misdiagnosed, because you have many of the same characteristics. add people are prone to depression, and what the authors call "slide"--very interesting, and something i think i can apply to myself, as well.
S stands for Self Attack
L stands for Life Attack
I stands for Imagining the Worst
D stands for Dread
E stands for Escape
self attack is thinking the worst of yourself, life attack is thinking the worst of life and the world, and the last three are pretty explanatory. the book also discusses spin, which is another acronym i found interesting:
S stands for Shame
P stands for Pessimism and Negativity
I stands for Isolation
N stands for No Creative, Productive Outlet
moreso than slide, spin makes sense to me. i see myself doing this all the time--searching for something, not knowing what. i have this feeling i should be more, should be able to do more, focus better, you name it. and when i give up before i start these things, it leads directly into being ashamed of myself. that channels into pessimism and isolation, which is where i've been, on and off, for the last two weeks. since i found out what had really been going on with dan and serena--i isolated myself. i think for a while, it was good, because i needed to hibernate with my feelings and sort them out, see what i was trying to accomplish, etc. but after that it was just me isolating myself and beating myself up with the facts and truth.
i told dan a few days ago that i needed a project--he asked what, and i said, something big to sand and paint. i would settle for another buffet or dresser, but at the same time, what i need is house-sized. i have a lot of frustration, and i need something more creative than writing to get it out of me.
yesterday i told the tdoc that when i get angry, i clean, i walk, i write. she said those were good things. i haven't done ANY of them but write since this started. we've tried walking more, and i have cleaned some things, but it's the the physical explosion that it used to be when i was trying to sense out the path before me.
at any rate, i have a busy morning. i'm moving my ultrasound around because i think that dan needs someone to go to the pdoc with him; i need to be in the know, so to speak, on what's going on, and not get things second hand through dan. he's in a good place today, or a better place than yesterday, but i don't think he's keeping his mood charts, and he did offer to go with me when i got my ultrasound. the thing at this point is that the ultrasound can be moved around; the pdoc visit cannot, as he has to stay on a fairly rigid schedule as far as visiting to control the meds goes.
then i need to do a bunch of stuff on my list--oil change, etc--and find something to make for dinner. after dinner, it's support group night. so that should be interesting.
this whole week off thing needs to automatically be TWO weeks, because i have a lot to get done, but i'm just now relaxed enough to focus on it! i surrender. LOL
Thursday, July 21, 2005
Wednesday, July 20, 2005
t-doc
that's the short form of talk-doc. i finally have one, and i saw her for the first time today. she's a very nice woman; said i could ask her whatever i wanted to. i really didn't have the chance, as i'm a talkative person, and once you put a quarter in me, you get one extra hour for free. (;
her name is helene. i was picturing someone tall, svelte, modern. what i got was shorter than me, kind of reminded me of my mother crossed with my aunt, roz, kind and willing to laugh. which was probably the most important part. we discussed dan, discussed my childhood, discussed my family, mainly my dad. it's hard to sum it all up because we did go over a lot of stuff. but it was a good thing, to go. i had an idea that it would be, after going to one of dan's therapy sessions with his tdoc, but you just never know.
the only thing looming over my head now is the cost. i'm petrified that my insurance company will say, we're covering it, and then not cover it and send me a bill for the rest. i'm in agony over this, and i don't know how to phrase it for my insurance people to understand.
i also know that it is something for which i cannot put a price--i need this therapy. she mentioned dysthymia, which is something that i find interesting, mainly because i've looked it up a few times in conjunction with dan's diagnosis. basically it comes down to this:
***
Dysthymic disorder, or dysthymia, is a type of depression that lasts for at least 2 years. Some people suffer from dysthymia for many years. Their depression is usually mild or moderate, rather than severe. Most people with dysthymia can't tell for sure when they first became depressed.
Symptoms of dysthymic disorder include a poor appetite or overeating, difficulty sleeping or sleeping too much, low energy, fatigue and feelings of hopelessness. People with dysthymic disorder may have periods of normal mood that last up to 2 months. Family members and friends may not even know that their loved one is depressed. Even though this type of depression is mild, it may make it difficult for a person to function at home, school or work
***
interesting. i don't know how long i've been this way, but it describes a LOT of what i am going through. the whole severe pms probably wasn't helping, but the pill seems to be working on my hormones pretty darn well. the blood pressure meds...not so much. apparently they tend to bring out feelings of depression in people prone to it. my regular family physician said she wanted to watch and wait on that, to see if the pill cleared things up. but i think talking to the psychologist, and eventually finding some kind of thought process that actually might apply better to what is going on in my head, might be the most helpful.
i'm praying right now that i don't have to see a psychiatrist as well, and be put on antidepressants or the like. healthcare, as professed by my earlier rant on the subject, is painful. they just don't make it easy, or affordable, to get yourself in good health. all the practitioners have made me feel comfortable, even when i don't want to be where i am--at the doctor. but the more i dwell on the price i pay for this comfort, and for the tests and for the removal of polyps and crap, the worse i feel mentally.
so someone cross your fingers and pray i win on the scratch off. LOL
in other news...talked to nathan today, had a lovely walk in swede hollow park downtown st paul. it's a neat area, and nathan is a neat person--always willing to talk and listen, and boy does he give good advice. (; so props to nathan.
annabel also called tonight. she's one of my extended sisters from bemidji, who has since moved out of the vortex and back home. her girls, the last time we talked, were in first grade and kindergarten, respectfully. now they're in 4th and 3rd grades!!! eep! she promised to send me pictures and an email, so i will now wait.
waiting by computer is over. LOL i'm exhausted, physically (that walk wasn't too long but it's more humid than a conservatory out there right now, and hot to boot) and mentally (talking about things takes something out of you!!! even in a safe and healthy environs like the tdoc!). i'm off to brush teeth and call it a day--too tired to keep trucking for this girl!!!
hugs all (:
her name is helene. i was picturing someone tall, svelte, modern. what i got was shorter than me, kind of reminded me of my mother crossed with my aunt, roz, kind and willing to laugh. which was probably the most important part. we discussed dan, discussed my childhood, discussed my family, mainly my dad. it's hard to sum it all up because we did go over a lot of stuff. but it was a good thing, to go. i had an idea that it would be, after going to one of dan's therapy sessions with his tdoc, but you just never know.
the only thing looming over my head now is the cost. i'm petrified that my insurance company will say, we're covering it, and then not cover it and send me a bill for the rest. i'm in agony over this, and i don't know how to phrase it for my insurance people to understand.
i also know that it is something for which i cannot put a price--i need this therapy. she mentioned dysthymia, which is something that i find interesting, mainly because i've looked it up a few times in conjunction with dan's diagnosis. basically it comes down to this:
***
Dysthymic disorder, or dysthymia, is a type of depression that lasts for at least 2 years. Some people suffer from dysthymia for many years. Their depression is usually mild or moderate, rather than severe. Most people with dysthymia can't tell for sure when they first became depressed.
Symptoms of dysthymic disorder include a poor appetite or overeating, difficulty sleeping or sleeping too much, low energy, fatigue and feelings of hopelessness. People with dysthymic disorder may have periods of normal mood that last up to 2 months. Family members and friends may not even know that their loved one is depressed. Even though this type of depression is mild, it may make it difficult for a person to function at home, school or work
***
interesting. i don't know how long i've been this way, but it describes a LOT of what i am going through. the whole severe pms probably wasn't helping, but the pill seems to be working on my hormones pretty darn well. the blood pressure meds...not so much. apparently they tend to bring out feelings of depression in people prone to it. my regular family physician said she wanted to watch and wait on that, to see if the pill cleared things up. but i think talking to the psychologist, and eventually finding some kind of thought process that actually might apply better to what is going on in my head, might be the most helpful.
i'm praying right now that i don't have to see a psychiatrist as well, and be put on antidepressants or the like. healthcare, as professed by my earlier rant on the subject, is painful. they just don't make it easy, or affordable, to get yourself in good health. all the practitioners have made me feel comfortable, even when i don't want to be where i am--at the doctor. but the more i dwell on the price i pay for this comfort, and for the tests and for the removal of polyps and crap, the worse i feel mentally.
so someone cross your fingers and pray i win on the scratch off. LOL
in other news...talked to nathan today, had a lovely walk in swede hollow park downtown st paul. it's a neat area, and nathan is a neat person--always willing to talk and listen, and boy does he give good advice. (; so props to nathan.
annabel also called tonight. she's one of my extended sisters from bemidji, who has since moved out of the vortex and back home. her girls, the last time we talked, were in first grade and kindergarten, respectfully. now they're in 4th and 3rd grades!!! eep! she promised to send me pictures and an email, so i will now wait.
waiting by computer is over. LOL i'm exhausted, physically (that walk wasn't too long but it's more humid than a conservatory out there right now, and hot to boot) and mentally (talking about things takes something out of you!!! even in a safe and healthy environs like the tdoc!). i'm off to brush teeth and call it a day--too tired to keep trucking for this girl!!!
hugs all (:
Sunday, July 17, 2005
comfort food
lately i've been craving books. not just a good book to fill the hours, but books i remember from my childhood, books that remind me of happier days and fill me with a sense of some type of eternal reminder that life CAN be good.
so i've been reading deerskin, by robin mckinley. which i bought because i liked the cover. the book is one of the most powerful i've read--it's a story about healing, and the redeeming power of having good people around you. it's actually the redoing of a fairy tale originally done i think by charles perrault called donkeyskin. it has a semi-sweet ending--happy but a tinged with sorrow--and i like that. i remember after corey died i read that book about 17 times--over, and over, and over.
the other book i'm reading right now is charlie and the chocolate factory, by roald dahl. it was inspired after seeing the movie yesterday--which was well done and enjoyable, and as tim burton as you can get. the thing i don't like about the movie was willy himself--in the book he's not a sad man, he's a bit hyper and manic, but he's not sad. he actually CARES about the people on the ride, and there's no undertone of him being entirely nuts. the thing i love about the book is that the whole thing--stem to stern--is about hope, something that comes and goes like the sun with me as of late. i love roald dahl's writing; it's sharp and to the point, but with enough embellishments and descriptors that i can read it at age 29 just as happily as i did when i was 7, and love it just as much.
the other book i'm reading is by peggy vaughn, the monogamy myth. it's about affairs (go figure LOL) and why people have them, and how to move on after them, and why people leave relationships because of them, and why they stay. it's very interesting, and insightful. her husband had a series of affairs after they were married for 11 years, and in spite of this, they decided to stay together and try again.
we're kind of on the same path, depending on the day. being in a relationship with a bipolar person who cycles rapidly kind of keeps things uneven; some days it feels like he really wants to try, and other days i feel like it's a lost cause. dan likened it to a teeter-totter the other day, and it's the truth. course, all of life could be summed up in that image, too.
i've been feeling a lot of familial pressure to get out of the relationship, mainly because dan sent out this letter explaining about his bipolar and explaining that we weren't together anymore. which at the time WAS a mutual decision. the thing about being bipolar is that i guess you don't make decisions based on all the facts, and you don't give yourself time to make an accurate decision, and one that you can live with; so now that he's got all his options in front of him, he's reconsidering all of them.
i'm still quite angry with him. i'll be honest. friday i could have just walked away and not looked back. i was out at a friend's house for sci fi friday, which generally speaking means booze, cake and food. at around 1115 or so my purse started ringing; realized i had a few voicemails. one of them was eero, hoping i was on my way home. the other was dan, wondering where i was, clearly drunk. i called home, only to discover that eero was in his room, waiting for reinforcements. (; dan apparently had a few beers, at home, and was laying on the floor listening to tunes. scared the piss out of me and eero. i had eero call darin, who had the prescence of mind to call poison control, as dan's on horse pills and who knows how alcohol will affect that. per poison control it will just make the person depressed and tired, which he was. darin came over, we sat around shooting the shit and got him into bed eventually. he slept it off and then saturday was a really good day. by that i mean, no swings up, no swings down. he kept himself on an even keel all day long.
it's THAT which keeps me going. i think back to when our relationship was "good" and i remember all the things about it that i enjoyed about it, and on the bad days, those memories waver. i can see them, in the past, waving out at me. and then i can see the future, and who cans see the future? in dreams i see snippets of it, but they are interspersed with possessed stuffed animals and other crap. it's like looking for your favorite ring in with litter, these dreams.
it's also THAT which makes me scared. one of the ladies i work with is bipolar, and she said that i just have to give it time, that eventually the meds will be right and he won't be so up and down all the time. and i don't want people to think that i am weak, for thinking about staying with dan. it's going to be a lot of work. i don't want my brother to rough him up, well...maybe just a little. i want him to understand that what happened previously can not happen again, and i want him to understand the depth of my pain. but it's a pain that, with time, grows smaller.
our relationship has been better for the past weeks, if for no other reason than he's being honest with me. if i ask him a question, i get the full monty for an answer. if i need help with something, he's johnny on the spot. i know that part of it is dan trying to make up for what he's done wrong. but i also know that this is what we used to do, ages ago.
since he's not spending all of his time online, we've been able to do things outside the house--last night we cleaned house playing trivia at a local pub, before which we were over at darin and cathy's helping paint the shed, and dan and darin moved appliances downstairs. (they're tiling their basement, and have a half-kitchen downstairs.)
my other issue right now is that i have to call people back. i haven't been very good about that, because i'm so tired of having to rehash everything over and over. people whom i've not spoken to since dan's email, or people who know part of what's going on, are still in the first stage of "he did what? and why are you still there?" when i've moved past that point. it's frustrating because i find myself saying the same things over and over. i also have problems doing things like using the computer and phone after i've been on the phone and glued to my monitor for 8 hours at work. the last thing i want to do is hook myself up and become chained to my house.
annabel called the other day; dan spoke to her at length. i haven't called her back. haven't called nathan, either, and these are two people i WOULD LOVE to talk to. i'm hoping that with the next week being vacation i can do so and feel okay about it! i finally spoke to cari, but that's been my limit right now. i'm tired of the explaining. but i'm sure that i'm going to have to do it a great many times and even more in the future; but by staying here, i guess i've set myself up for the explaining. dan and i both decided the other day that it would be so much nicer to have a brochure to send out, or offer, when people ask questions.
today i don't kn ow what i'm going to do; stay out of the heat, i'm guessing. it's sweltering here. i doubt we've had a day under 89 degrees for the past week, and it's looking like that's where it's going to stay. which consequently means that i'm going to stay inside, where it's air conditioned, and try to get the a.c. funk out of the air (after days of not having the windows open it starts to get a certain smell...)
so yeah. that's where i'm at. off to finish charlie and the chocolate factory. (;
so i've been reading deerskin, by robin mckinley. which i bought because i liked the cover. the book is one of the most powerful i've read--it's a story about healing, and the redeeming power of having good people around you. it's actually the redoing of a fairy tale originally done i think by charles perrault called donkeyskin. it has a semi-sweet ending--happy but a tinged with sorrow--and i like that. i remember after corey died i read that book about 17 times--over, and over, and over.
the other book i'm reading right now is charlie and the chocolate factory, by roald dahl. it was inspired after seeing the movie yesterday--which was well done and enjoyable, and as tim burton as you can get. the thing i don't like about the movie was willy himself--in the book he's not a sad man, he's a bit hyper and manic, but he's not sad. he actually CARES about the people on the ride, and there's no undertone of him being entirely nuts. the thing i love about the book is that the whole thing--stem to stern--is about hope, something that comes and goes like the sun with me as of late. i love roald dahl's writing; it's sharp and to the point, but with enough embellishments and descriptors that i can read it at age 29 just as happily as i did when i was 7, and love it just as much.
the other book i'm reading is by peggy vaughn, the monogamy myth. it's about affairs (go figure LOL) and why people have them, and how to move on after them, and why people leave relationships because of them, and why they stay. it's very interesting, and insightful. her husband had a series of affairs after they were married for 11 years, and in spite of this, they decided to stay together and try again.
we're kind of on the same path, depending on the day. being in a relationship with a bipolar person who cycles rapidly kind of keeps things uneven; some days it feels like he really wants to try, and other days i feel like it's a lost cause. dan likened it to a teeter-totter the other day, and it's the truth. course, all of life could be summed up in that image, too.
i've been feeling a lot of familial pressure to get out of the relationship, mainly because dan sent out this letter explaining about his bipolar and explaining that we weren't together anymore. which at the time WAS a mutual decision. the thing about being bipolar is that i guess you don't make decisions based on all the facts, and you don't give yourself time to make an accurate decision, and one that you can live with; so now that he's got all his options in front of him, he's reconsidering all of them.
i'm still quite angry with him. i'll be honest. friday i could have just walked away and not looked back. i was out at a friend's house for sci fi friday, which generally speaking means booze, cake and food. at around 1115 or so my purse started ringing; realized i had a few voicemails. one of them was eero, hoping i was on my way home. the other was dan, wondering where i was, clearly drunk. i called home, only to discover that eero was in his room, waiting for reinforcements. (; dan apparently had a few beers, at home, and was laying on the floor listening to tunes. scared the piss out of me and eero. i had eero call darin, who had the prescence of mind to call poison control, as dan's on horse pills and who knows how alcohol will affect that. per poison control it will just make the person depressed and tired, which he was. darin came over, we sat around shooting the shit and got him into bed eventually. he slept it off and then saturday was a really good day. by that i mean, no swings up, no swings down. he kept himself on an even keel all day long.
it's THAT which keeps me going. i think back to when our relationship was "good" and i remember all the things about it that i enjoyed about it, and on the bad days, those memories waver. i can see them, in the past, waving out at me. and then i can see the future, and who cans see the future? in dreams i see snippets of it, but they are interspersed with possessed stuffed animals and other crap. it's like looking for your favorite ring in with litter, these dreams.
it's also THAT which makes me scared. one of the ladies i work with is bipolar, and she said that i just have to give it time, that eventually the meds will be right and he won't be so up and down all the time. and i don't want people to think that i am weak, for thinking about staying with dan. it's going to be a lot of work. i don't want my brother to rough him up, well...maybe just a little. i want him to understand that what happened previously can not happen again, and i want him to understand the depth of my pain. but it's a pain that, with time, grows smaller.
our relationship has been better for the past weeks, if for no other reason than he's being honest with me. if i ask him a question, i get the full monty for an answer. if i need help with something, he's johnny on the spot. i know that part of it is dan trying to make up for what he's done wrong. but i also know that this is what we used to do, ages ago.
since he's not spending all of his time online, we've been able to do things outside the house--last night we cleaned house playing trivia at a local pub, before which we were over at darin and cathy's helping paint the shed, and dan and darin moved appliances downstairs. (they're tiling their basement, and have a half-kitchen downstairs.)
my other issue right now is that i have to call people back. i haven't been very good about that, because i'm so tired of having to rehash everything over and over. people whom i've not spoken to since dan's email, or people who know part of what's going on, are still in the first stage of "he did what? and why are you still there?" when i've moved past that point. it's frustrating because i find myself saying the same things over and over. i also have problems doing things like using the computer and phone after i've been on the phone and glued to my monitor for 8 hours at work. the last thing i want to do is hook myself up and become chained to my house.
annabel called the other day; dan spoke to her at length. i haven't called her back. haven't called nathan, either, and these are two people i WOULD LOVE to talk to. i'm hoping that with the next week being vacation i can do so and feel okay about it! i finally spoke to cari, but that's been my limit right now. i'm tired of the explaining. but i'm sure that i'm going to have to do it a great many times and even more in the future; but by staying here, i guess i've set myself up for the explaining. dan and i both decided the other day that it would be so much nicer to have a brochure to send out, or offer, when people ask questions.
today i don't kn ow what i'm going to do; stay out of the heat, i'm guessing. it's sweltering here. i doubt we've had a day under 89 degrees for the past week, and it's looking like that's where it's going to stay. which consequently means that i'm going to stay inside, where it's air conditioned, and try to get the a.c. funk out of the air (after days of not having the windows open it starts to get a certain smell...)
so yeah. that's where i'm at. off to finish charlie and the chocolate factory. (;
Saturday, July 09, 2005
a few quotes
just some random stuff that i'm pondering. (;
"Rest is not idleness, and to lie sometimes on the grass under the trees on a summer's day, listening to the murmur of water, or watching the clouds float across the sky, is by no means a waste of time." --Sir J. Lubbock
"Security is mostly a superstition. It does not exist in nature. Life is either a daring adventure or nothing." --Helen Keller (I never knew that those two lines preceded the last line!)
"Life does not have to be perfect to be beautiful." --Annette Funicello
"Some of us have great runways already built for us, so if you have one, TAKE OFF. If you don't, grab a shovel and build one." --Amelia Earhart
"Within the word recreation is the idea that you can recreate yourself. Do something to refresh your spirit, to nurture the little kid in you, to re-create yourself physically, emotionally, or spiritually." --Rita Emmett, from The Procrastinator's Handbook
"Rest is not idleness, and to lie sometimes on the grass under the trees on a summer's day, listening to the murmur of water, or watching the clouds float across the sky, is by no means a waste of time." --Sir J. Lubbock
"Security is mostly a superstition. It does not exist in nature. Life is either a daring adventure or nothing." --Helen Keller (I never knew that those two lines preceded the last line!)
"Life does not have to be perfect to be beautiful." --Annette Funicello
"Some of us have great runways already built for us, so if you have one, TAKE OFF. If you don't, grab a shovel and build one." --Amelia Earhart
"Within the word recreation is the idea that you can recreate yourself. Do something to refresh your spirit, to nurture the little kid in you, to re-create yourself physically, emotionally, or spiritually." --Rita Emmett, from The Procrastinator's Handbook
angry chair
dan posts a lot of lyrics on his blog, things that reflect how he's feeling. one of my favorite angry songs is "angry chair" by alice in chains; it's not just the words, it's the feeling when you hear layne staley growling and singing, and jerry on the guitar...beauty.
i realized that while i was driving today, that i'm angry yet. will be for a while. i want to throw something at serena, i want to punch something, i want to yell at dan. i'm sure that this will go on for a while, until it has burned through my system. i remember stories of the great fire of chicago, and how it just burned and burned. i'm angry with myself for not realizing what was going on, for not standing up for myself, for not throwing myself between them, for assuming that everything was "okay."
i'm angry at myself for forgiving the actions; i have yet to forgive the dishonesty. that's a much bigger hurdle, in my mind. but the actions i can forgive, because they're very human. so is the dishonesty, if i turn my mind in that manner. but it's much more difficult to comprehend than the actual actions themselves; bodies work in ways that minds do not.
i want to forgive the lies; i do. i want to do it so that i can move forward. but i don't want to force it, and i can't. it has to happen on its own.
i'm feeling sarcastic and bitchy right now, so bear with me.
some part of me is replaying last saturday right now, when i dug deep enough and got the truth. i still want to use this anger constructively, but the heating pad i'm working on sewing just doesn't seem physical enough. i think i need to wash a car or build a house, something much more vital. maybe repaint the sistine chapel. i need to feel productive in a much bigger way. i guess i'll have to work on finding it. (;
i've done a lot of reading online about affairs. i know i said that earlier. they say it can take up to 2 years before you feel recovered from the affair. i understand that, because i'm so up and down and all over that it's nearly humorous. i want to be alone; i want to call a friend. i want to watch a movie; i want to read a book. i want to sew a heating pad; i want to sit and cry. i think i just need to focus on something.
in a while i'm going to watch "the joy luck club" because i feel like bawling my eyes out. i don't want to watch it with anyone. i just know that i need to cry until i'm all sobbed out, and then i can get down to the nitty gritty of housework and laundry and the rest of life.
anyway, i never posted those lyrics to that alice in chains song. they're not pretty and the song itself is not pretty, but there's beauty even in anger. i'm just trying to funnel it so that i have something to show for the emotions i feel, and i guess a heating pad in lieu of the sistine chapel, is good enough. (:
before anyone panics, i know i can make it through this. i just know that it's going to take time to do so. rome, as they say, wasn't built in a day.
the anger, and the joy--they come and go, like thunderstorms in june, like snow in november. eventually they'll settle down again. i know it, because i have faith in the good of the human soul.
Angry Chair (Alice in Chains)
Sitting on an angry chair
Angry walls that steal the air
Stomach hurts and I don’t care
What do I see across the way
See myself molded in clay
Stares at me, yeah I’m afraid
Changing the shape of his face
Candles red I have a pair
Shadows dancing everywhere
Burning on the angry chair
Little boy made a mistake
Pink cloud has now turned to gray
All that I want is to play
Get on your knees, time to pray, boy
I don’t mind, yeah
I don’t mind, i-i-i
I don’t mind, yeah,
I don’t mind, i-i-i
Lost my mind, yeah
But I don’t mind, i-i-i
Can’t find it anywhere
I don’t mind
Corporate prison, we stay
I’m a dull boy, work all day
So I’m strung out anyway
Loneliness is not a phase
Field of pain is where I graze
Serenity is far away
Saw my reflection and cried
So little hope that I died
Feed me your lies, open wide
Weight of my heart, not the size
Pink cloud has now turned to gray
All that I want is to play
Get on your knees time to pray
i realized that while i was driving today, that i'm angry yet. will be for a while. i want to throw something at serena, i want to punch something, i want to yell at dan. i'm sure that this will go on for a while, until it has burned through my system. i remember stories of the great fire of chicago, and how it just burned and burned. i'm angry with myself for not realizing what was going on, for not standing up for myself, for not throwing myself between them, for assuming that everything was "okay."
i'm angry at myself for forgiving the actions; i have yet to forgive the dishonesty. that's a much bigger hurdle, in my mind. but the actions i can forgive, because they're very human. so is the dishonesty, if i turn my mind in that manner. but it's much more difficult to comprehend than the actual actions themselves; bodies work in ways that minds do not.
i want to forgive the lies; i do. i want to do it so that i can move forward. but i don't want to force it, and i can't. it has to happen on its own.
i'm feeling sarcastic and bitchy right now, so bear with me.
some part of me is replaying last saturday right now, when i dug deep enough and got the truth. i still want to use this anger constructively, but the heating pad i'm working on sewing just doesn't seem physical enough. i think i need to wash a car or build a house, something much more vital. maybe repaint the sistine chapel. i need to feel productive in a much bigger way. i guess i'll have to work on finding it. (;
i've done a lot of reading online about affairs. i know i said that earlier. they say it can take up to 2 years before you feel recovered from the affair. i understand that, because i'm so up and down and all over that it's nearly humorous. i want to be alone; i want to call a friend. i want to watch a movie; i want to read a book. i want to sew a heating pad; i want to sit and cry. i think i just need to focus on something.
in a while i'm going to watch "the joy luck club" because i feel like bawling my eyes out. i don't want to watch it with anyone. i just know that i need to cry until i'm all sobbed out, and then i can get down to the nitty gritty of housework and laundry and the rest of life.
anyway, i never posted those lyrics to that alice in chains song. they're not pretty and the song itself is not pretty, but there's beauty even in anger. i'm just trying to funnel it so that i have something to show for the emotions i feel, and i guess a heating pad in lieu of the sistine chapel, is good enough. (:
before anyone panics, i know i can make it through this. i just know that it's going to take time to do so. rome, as they say, wasn't built in a day.
the anger, and the joy--they come and go, like thunderstorms in june, like snow in november. eventually they'll settle down again. i know it, because i have faith in the good of the human soul.
Angry Chair (Alice in Chains)
Sitting on an angry chair
Angry walls that steal the air
Stomach hurts and I don’t care
What do I see across the way
See myself molded in clay
Stares at me, yeah I’m afraid
Changing the shape of his face
Candles red I have a pair
Shadows dancing everywhere
Burning on the angry chair
Little boy made a mistake
Pink cloud has now turned to gray
All that I want is to play
Get on your knees, time to pray, boy
I don’t mind, yeah
I don’t mind, i-i-i
I don’t mind, yeah,
I don’t mind, i-i-i
Lost my mind, yeah
But I don’t mind, i-i-i
Can’t find it anywhere
I don’t mind
Corporate prison, we stay
I’m a dull boy, work all day
So I’m strung out anyway
Loneliness is not a phase
Field of pain is where I graze
Serenity is far away
Saw my reflection and cried
So little hope that I died
Feed me your lies, open wide
Weight of my heart, not the size
Pink cloud has now turned to gray
All that I want is to play
Get on your knees time to pray
different kind of stones
i've been thinking all night. you know, one of those nights where you wake up at 428 am thinking things that you thought you'd put away, at least for the night. sometimes it feels like putting the car in the garage for the evening.
which is the only reason i'm actually on the computer now, because i cleaned the litterbox and had to dump her highness' box in the garage, only to discover that once again the ceiling is leaking. since my rental office doesn't seem to do much when you ask them to, i'm going to actually put in another written request and see where that gets me. so i turned on the computer, and then i HAD to check my mail, and then i HAD to check blogs...and lo and behold, here i am.
the other day dan and i were discussing "the prophet" by kahlil gibran. i adore that book; we were just sitting there, talking, calm and relaxed. dan mentioned some quote from the bible and had to look it up, so then we switched gears and had to compare my bible with his. yeah, i still have a bible, because it's something that was given to me, and despite the fact that there's all kinds of things in the bible i don't agree with, there's all kinds of things i still do.
i don't know who reads this blog. so if you're a friend, you need to understand things before i move forward with this. i also DO NOT want phone calls. i can talk with you about the situation when and if we talk, but i don't want a barrage of "oh my gods" and stuff. i've already gone through every aspect of being angry, and being indignant. i'm ready to do something constructive with my feelings, but the quote that has been stuck in my mind is the one about throwing stones: let you among you who is without sin cast the first stone.
dan and serena have admitted to having an affair. not a physical affair while we all lived together here. but a physical affair just after i moved to the cities with them, and an online emotional and physical affair in the beginning of may. it took about 8 weeks for me to get the truth out of him; serena only admitted her involvement when confronted with my anger. they both have apologized profusely.
i have to admit it: i've NEVER felt so betrayed, never felt so hurt. but that's normal, in the circumstances.
i've never carried so many stones in my pockets, as reminders that i am temporary, and that someday i will heal, dan will heal, serena will heal. both dan and i have agreed to try, that we have something we want to salvage, reforge, make better. we saw the therapist for the first time thursday night, and made appointments to see him again in the future. i also need to line up my own therapist. being in that room with dan felt like things were MOVING somewhere, but we have a long way to go, i think. i remember the first flush of love, when we were young, and the dedication we had to each other. i want to find that again, but maybe a new brand, a different form.
from reading online about affairs i can see that they are human things. other beasties don't worry about affairs because they don't tie emotion to sex the way humans do. from reading i can see that we have a good chance to rebuild, and that we also have a good chance to change ourselves, and maybe not rebuild what we had. it's all chance, it's all fortune telling, it's all in the future.
please know that i am processing this information, all of it, slowly. i'm big into rocks and earth, as you know from my previous post. earth is patient; i try to go forward with that same patience in my soul. earth grows, earth hibernates. right now i'm hibernating; i've felt like i have been for a good month or two, at this point. but i think that spring in all it's wild growth is around the corner.
i'd like to share a poem i wrote years ago. at the time it was for a solstice celebration, calling forth the biological aspects of summer. right now i want to share it because i think it can also call forth the inner growth i need.
summer solstice 6.22.01
this night i call
impatient growth
i call unruly creation
and ridiculous west winds
i call the crackle of dusk
the soundless cloud
i drift within
i drift without
i see sun spinning autumn's bitter cloak
so swift, your time remaining.
and yet i feel you breathe
i feel you live
slow
as if there is space to rest
beneath dappled willow
time to drink deep of green silence.
watch the dragonfly shimmer.
in the mirror of its wings
you can see
summer's hazy soul.
which is the only reason i'm actually on the computer now, because i cleaned the litterbox and had to dump her highness' box in the garage, only to discover that once again the ceiling is leaking. since my rental office doesn't seem to do much when you ask them to, i'm going to actually put in another written request and see where that gets me. so i turned on the computer, and then i HAD to check my mail, and then i HAD to check blogs...and lo and behold, here i am.
the other day dan and i were discussing "the prophet" by kahlil gibran. i adore that book; we were just sitting there, talking, calm and relaxed. dan mentioned some quote from the bible and had to look it up, so then we switched gears and had to compare my bible with his. yeah, i still have a bible, because it's something that was given to me, and despite the fact that there's all kinds of things in the bible i don't agree with, there's all kinds of things i still do.
i don't know who reads this blog. so if you're a friend, you need to understand things before i move forward with this. i also DO NOT want phone calls. i can talk with you about the situation when and if we talk, but i don't want a barrage of "oh my gods" and stuff. i've already gone through every aspect of being angry, and being indignant. i'm ready to do something constructive with my feelings, but the quote that has been stuck in my mind is the one about throwing stones: let you among you who is without sin cast the first stone.
dan and serena have admitted to having an affair. not a physical affair while we all lived together here. but a physical affair just after i moved to the cities with them, and an online emotional and physical affair in the beginning of may. it took about 8 weeks for me to get the truth out of him; serena only admitted her involvement when confronted with my anger. they both have apologized profusely.
i have to admit it: i've NEVER felt so betrayed, never felt so hurt. but that's normal, in the circumstances.
i've never carried so many stones in my pockets, as reminders that i am temporary, and that someday i will heal, dan will heal, serena will heal. both dan and i have agreed to try, that we have something we want to salvage, reforge, make better. we saw the therapist for the first time thursday night, and made appointments to see him again in the future. i also need to line up my own therapist. being in that room with dan felt like things were MOVING somewhere, but we have a long way to go, i think. i remember the first flush of love, when we were young, and the dedication we had to each other. i want to find that again, but maybe a new brand, a different form.
from reading online about affairs i can see that they are human things. other beasties don't worry about affairs because they don't tie emotion to sex the way humans do. from reading i can see that we have a good chance to rebuild, and that we also have a good chance to change ourselves, and maybe not rebuild what we had. it's all chance, it's all fortune telling, it's all in the future.
please know that i am processing this information, all of it, slowly. i'm big into rocks and earth, as you know from my previous post. earth is patient; i try to go forward with that same patience in my soul. earth grows, earth hibernates. right now i'm hibernating; i've felt like i have been for a good month or two, at this point. but i think that spring in all it's wild growth is around the corner.
i'd like to share a poem i wrote years ago. at the time it was for a solstice celebration, calling forth the biological aspects of summer. right now i want to share it because i think it can also call forth the inner growth i need.
summer solstice 6.22.01
this night i call
impatient growth
i call unruly creation
and ridiculous west winds
i call the crackle of dusk
the soundless cloud
i drift within
i drift without
i see sun spinning autumn's bitter cloak
so swift, your time remaining.
and yet i feel you breathe
i feel you live
slow
as if there is space to rest
beneath dappled willow
time to drink deep of green silence.
watch the dragonfly shimmer.
in the mirror of its wings
you can see
summer's hazy soul.
Friday, July 08, 2005
stones
i carry stones in my pockets. when life gets incomprehensible, i go out and i find a stone that seems like it's too big for my pocket. sometimes the size of my fist; sometimes smaller, sometimes lake-smooth and sometimes jagged, just formed. can i tell you why?
because they remind me of the ephemeral value of life itself. they remind me that stones remain, after i'm gone. they remind me that the little bit of earth in my pocket was once a part of a much bigger portion of earth--part of the whole. it fell away, was bathed for years in water, or tumbled along the ground until edges were smoothed. perhaps it made its mark on some greater thing; perhaps a child used it to mark up the pavement, or someone propped open doors.
it has a story that, being silent and compressed earth, it will never share.
it pokes into my leg, when i lean against the counter. it hurts me. it reminds me that i am human, and that as a human, i can be hurt. sometimes hurt is hard to put your finger on, the internal hurt of someone else's pain, or the agony of being hurt yourself and being unable to describe it. but the pain of that little stone, the way my pants hang a bit to one side because there is no counter balance in the other pocket--that is a reminder, to me.
of what does it remind me? that after i am gone, you could take this stone and give it to someone else, and it would carry on. the stone is eternal. if i back my car over it, nothing will happen to the stone.
should i be more like this stone? should i be small, silent, gray? i don't honestly know how long it takes to form a stone this size. forever, it seems. years, and years. and decades, more time than i can fathom while staring around my cat at the words i'm typing. it is supposed to be where it is, right now--in my pocket, reminding me to be patient, reminding me that if i remain true to the things that i feel are important, i will stay true to the unformed self.
i know that this stone has been in the rain. i'm sure it's been covered by snow. it perseveres. it doesn't know what it is; it doesn't know what it does for me and my journey. someday soon i'm sure i'll pick up my jeans and it will roll to the floor, small thunk in the carpet. if dan picks it up, he will put it on my dresser, knowing my affinity for stones. if someone else finds it, maybe they will put it in their pocket. or the garbage. or just back outside again.
maybe it will roll a hole in my pocket, when it's done being carried about and used as a tool for my brain. one day it'll just be gone--from me. or i will be gone from it.
either way, five hundred years from now, this stone will still be.
can i tell you why it's in my pocket, today? it's a reminder that it is OKAY to be changed, over time. it's OKAY for me to be hurt, and not quite understand the depth of it, or understand if i am as hurt as perhaps i think i "have" to be. it's OKAY for me to be worn down by what is going on in my life--this is a big thing that's going on right now. it's OKAY for me to feel the love i feel for the person i do, and not quite fully understand the way i feel it; i think i'm supposed to be hurt, but part of the hurt is counteracted by the joy. it's like being partly cloudy out--it's also partly sunny at the same time. it's OKAY to forgive; it's OKAY for me to move around in this limbo world, and see how the hurt and the joy are both conflicting and making me anew in their own ways.
this is on a pretty optimistic day; ask me again later, see the pessimistic side. (;
joy, i think, can sometimes be just as frightening as pain, because you're half afraid the whole time that it might someday not be there or be like this again. when i lean against the wall, the stone will press into my left hip. it will remind me that perhaps the pain i'm feeling, and somedays the joy, will abate--someday the rain will stop and the sun will be out, and i can't see it yet. someday maybe i can take this stone out of my pocket, until i feel ready to put it in my pocket again.
it reminds me that no one, as sark says, calls an elephant fat. no one says a tree is ugly, for being pushed and reworked by the wind and water.
i am constantly being reworked--by emotions, by morals, by the ethical struggle of being human. being human is, in its own way, being made of stone--i think that i am fully formed, but time makes me realize that i am simply earth made flesh, susceptible to more than fire and rain--and in the end, it is just fine and dandy for me to be made this way, over and over again, and to feel the way i do.
for now, it's in my pocket.
because they remind me of the ephemeral value of life itself. they remind me that stones remain, after i'm gone. they remind me that the little bit of earth in my pocket was once a part of a much bigger portion of earth--part of the whole. it fell away, was bathed for years in water, or tumbled along the ground until edges were smoothed. perhaps it made its mark on some greater thing; perhaps a child used it to mark up the pavement, or someone propped open doors.
it has a story that, being silent and compressed earth, it will never share.
it pokes into my leg, when i lean against the counter. it hurts me. it reminds me that i am human, and that as a human, i can be hurt. sometimes hurt is hard to put your finger on, the internal hurt of someone else's pain, or the agony of being hurt yourself and being unable to describe it. but the pain of that little stone, the way my pants hang a bit to one side because there is no counter balance in the other pocket--that is a reminder, to me.
of what does it remind me? that after i am gone, you could take this stone and give it to someone else, and it would carry on. the stone is eternal. if i back my car over it, nothing will happen to the stone.
should i be more like this stone? should i be small, silent, gray? i don't honestly know how long it takes to form a stone this size. forever, it seems. years, and years. and decades, more time than i can fathom while staring around my cat at the words i'm typing. it is supposed to be where it is, right now--in my pocket, reminding me to be patient, reminding me that if i remain true to the things that i feel are important, i will stay true to the unformed self.
i know that this stone has been in the rain. i'm sure it's been covered by snow. it perseveres. it doesn't know what it is; it doesn't know what it does for me and my journey. someday soon i'm sure i'll pick up my jeans and it will roll to the floor, small thunk in the carpet. if dan picks it up, he will put it on my dresser, knowing my affinity for stones. if someone else finds it, maybe they will put it in their pocket. or the garbage. or just back outside again.
maybe it will roll a hole in my pocket, when it's done being carried about and used as a tool for my brain. one day it'll just be gone--from me. or i will be gone from it.
either way, five hundred years from now, this stone will still be.
can i tell you why it's in my pocket, today? it's a reminder that it is OKAY to be changed, over time. it's OKAY for me to be hurt, and not quite understand the depth of it, or understand if i am as hurt as perhaps i think i "have" to be. it's OKAY for me to be worn down by what is going on in my life--this is a big thing that's going on right now. it's OKAY for me to feel the love i feel for the person i do, and not quite fully understand the way i feel it; i think i'm supposed to be hurt, but part of the hurt is counteracted by the joy. it's like being partly cloudy out--it's also partly sunny at the same time. it's OKAY to forgive; it's OKAY for me to move around in this limbo world, and see how the hurt and the joy are both conflicting and making me anew in their own ways.
this is on a pretty optimistic day; ask me again later, see the pessimistic side. (;
joy, i think, can sometimes be just as frightening as pain, because you're half afraid the whole time that it might someday not be there or be like this again. when i lean against the wall, the stone will press into my left hip. it will remind me that perhaps the pain i'm feeling, and somedays the joy, will abate--someday the rain will stop and the sun will be out, and i can't see it yet. someday maybe i can take this stone out of my pocket, until i feel ready to put it in my pocket again.
it reminds me that no one, as sark says, calls an elephant fat. no one says a tree is ugly, for being pushed and reworked by the wind and water.
i am constantly being reworked--by emotions, by morals, by the ethical struggle of being human. being human is, in its own way, being made of stone--i think that i am fully formed, but time makes me realize that i am simply earth made flesh, susceptible to more than fire and rain--and in the end, it is just fine and dandy for me to be made this way, over and over again, and to feel the way i do.
for now, it's in my pocket.
Saturday, July 02, 2005
dawn
i haven't watched the sun come up in a long time. didn't really this morning either, except reflected off the townhouse siding out the window, because i can't see the sun from any room in the house--just the reflections and long shadows, the glare of it on windows. we don't really have any windows that show it to you--except maybe dan's window, which faces west. sometimes you get a glimpse.
the last few weeks have been terribly exhausting. i told a gal on the dbsa forum (depressed and bipolar support alliance, it's a lovely website and everyone is SO helpful and supportive!) anyway i said the other day that living with dan is often like holding marbles in your mouth--you never know what's going to happen next.
yesterday i think was a long time coming. and in the end it's right, as green day says.
serena gave dan an answer, one he'd been wanting for a long time. they talked and dan's disorder took over, amplified what he was feeling a thousandfold, and i got the email at work: i'm thinking i might hurt myself.
he called the crisis line, who told him to go to united hospital, up in st paul. i was at work and trying to finish things, so dan made himself drive up to work and then we drove to united's emergency room. i think it was one of the best and hardest things we've done in the 5 weeks since his break--the therapist has been amazing, and i think in the long run will continue to be helpful. but when you get to the point dan was at, the only thing i can say is thank god--thank god that he kept his promise and told me that he was thinking of hurting himself, thank god that united hospitals help you before they ask about insurance, thank god for general medical assistance, thank god for the kind and considerate social worker, linda.
we were there for about two and a half hours. it was the most and least painful trip i've been on to a hospital in forever, i think. most because it's hard to see someone else in pain, and know that there is nothing you can do but hold the kleenex box and pray, in your soul, that something will put a bandage on that hurt you can't see. and least, because there are no stitches, no abrasions, no poking and prodding of my own self. sometimes it's the extension of yourself that is most painful, though--just the knowing and the hand holding.
i called my sister, while dan and the social worker were talking. the beauty of any type of health care system is the blessed and cursed waiting--over two hours dan went from suicidal thoughts, without a plan, to just plain depressed, to manic, to evening out. i'd swear that was part of the treatment at the er--you're suicidal? well, sit here, you can watch the security guard watch you to make sure you don't make a run for it, oh, five hours have passed and now you just want some jello? what's this?
but everyone was nice. no one gave us the stares for not having a noticeable hurt between us--i'm sure they see all kinds, i've heard about the er waiting room extensively from my other sister, who used to do admissions there. it's the compassion that maybe tempers your fear, and makes it into something you can deal with.
at any rate i called my sister sara because i couldn't think of anyone else to call. and then had to leave a voicemail. called my friend nathan, who--and i cannot thank him enough for this--said, where are you, i'm on my way. i hate to be the person asking someone to drop everything and run to them, because i always feel like an imposition. but it gave me such a sense of relief when he said just tell me where you are, i'm coming. like i'd been alone but not known it. right now as i type this i'm crying, because i know that if i had called any of my friends or family, they would have done the same. but thank you nathan, thank you a billion times over, for being there when i needed you.
i always think back to when corey died, dan's brother. 6 years ago now. i remember standing in the church, right before the funeral started, and looking out the back doors and seeing my sisters and brother, all walking towards the building. i was filled with such an overwhelming sense of relief and joy, that they were there. i remember walking out the back door and into their arms and just sobbing.
this is humanity at its best--the hugs and the love, given freely, asking for nothing in return.
the social worker came out and talked to me too. she was exceedingly sympathetic and understanding--which i suppose comes with the territory--and asked questions that made sense: how long has he been like this, how are you holding up, what are your fears for the situation. after conferring with the doctor and seeing what was available, they offered dan some options--he could go to a crisis house up by hamline university, hewitt house, or he could go home and they would have some people from a place called EMACHS come over today and set him up, possibly today, with meds and someone to stop by regularly to check on him.
we both felt, at that point, that it would be best to go home; he'd calmed down and was hungry and tired, both signs that something was passing, probably the flare or whatever it is that bipolar disorder causes.
the marbles in your mouth part--that's today. that's not knowing if later tonight he'll feel overwhelmed again and need to be held and kleenex applied, or turn manic and plan thirty-three things, in addition to cleaning the bathroom and taking out the garbage and watching a movie. that's the part that is the scary part for me.
so we had dinner with nathan at cassetta's, which was nice and kind of settling, and then we came home. dan spoke to serena and i spoke to my sister sara, and we went to bed at about 1015, just holding each other. sometimes that is the best comfort you can take, the closeness and familiarity of a body that loves you.
about 430 he got up, bit sick to his stomach. still thinking about serena and what has gone on, and probably a bit ill because of spicy pizza after nothing in his belly but hospital water and crushed ice since (we think) wednesday night. so we laid there, talking, watching the room get lighter and lighter, watching the ceiling turn white from dark gray, watching the cat get ready to sleep in the sunny-ish window, hearing birds and neighbors moving around.
it's a new day. it's a sunny day. sky's blue, air's chill and much drier than it was for the last few weeks, shiva's clawing my hip in anticipation of breakfast. right now, momentarily, i wish she didn't have claws, because her lack of claw control is a bit stinging. i need to shower and call my sister; we're supposed to have coffee and banana bread this morning. dan's sleeping again, and i don't want to wake him. once i'm up in the morning, it's difficult to go back to sleep. but i think i might find it in me to take a nap yet, this afternoon. (:
the last few weeks have been terribly exhausting. i told a gal on the dbsa forum (depressed and bipolar support alliance, it's a lovely website and everyone is SO helpful and supportive!) anyway i said the other day that living with dan is often like holding marbles in your mouth--you never know what's going to happen next.
yesterday i think was a long time coming. and in the end it's right, as green day says.
serena gave dan an answer, one he'd been wanting for a long time. they talked and dan's disorder took over, amplified what he was feeling a thousandfold, and i got the email at work: i'm thinking i might hurt myself.
he called the crisis line, who told him to go to united hospital, up in st paul. i was at work and trying to finish things, so dan made himself drive up to work and then we drove to united's emergency room. i think it was one of the best and hardest things we've done in the 5 weeks since his break--the therapist has been amazing, and i think in the long run will continue to be helpful. but when you get to the point dan was at, the only thing i can say is thank god--thank god that he kept his promise and told me that he was thinking of hurting himself, thank god that united hospitals help you before they ask about insurance, thank god for general medical assistance, thank god for the kind and considerate social worker, linda.
we were there for about two and a half hours. it was the most and least painful trip i've been on to a hospital in forever, i think. most because it's hard to see someone else in pain, and know that there is nothing you can do but hold the kleenex box and pray, in your soul, that something will put a bandage on that hurt you can't see. and least, because there are no stitches, no abrasions, no poking and prodding of my own self. sometimes it's the extension of yourself that is most painful, though--just the knowing and the hand holding.
i called my sister, while dan and the social worker were talking. the beauty of any type of health care system is the blessed and cursed waiting--over two hours dan went from suicidal thoughts, without a plan, to just plain depressed, to manic, to evening out. i'd swear that was part of the treatment at the er--you're suicidal? well, sit here, you can watch the security guard watch you to make sure you don't make a run for it, oh, five hours have passed and now you just want some jello? what's this?
but everyone was nice. no one gave us the stares for not having a noticeable hurt between us--i'm sure they see all kinds, i've heard about the er waiting room extensively from my other sister, who used to do admissions there. it's the compassion that maybe tempers your fear, and makes it into something you can deal with.
at any rate i called my sister sara because i couldn't think of anyone else to call. and then had to leave a voicemail. called my friend nathan, who--and i cannot thank him enough for this--said, where are you, i'm on my way. i hate to be the person asking someone to drop everything and run to them, because i always feel like an imposition. but it gave me such a sense of relief when he said just tell me where you are, i'm coming. like i'd been alone but not known it. right now as i type this i'm crying, because i know that if i had called any of my friends or family, they would have done the same. but thank you nathan, thank you a billion times over, for being there when i needed you.
i always think back to when corey died, dan's brother. 6 years ago now. i remember standing in the church, right before the funeral started, and looking out the back doors and seeing my sisters and brother, all walking towards the building. i was filled with such an overwhelming sense of relief and joy, that they were there. i remember walking out the back door and into their arms and just sobbing.
this is humanity at its best--the hugs and the love, given freely, asking for nothing in return.
the social worker came out and talked to me too. she was exceedingly sympathetic and understanding--which i suppose comes with the territory--and asked questions that made sense: how long has he been like this, how are you holding up, what are your fears for the situation. after conferring with the doctor and seeing what was available, they offered dan some options--he could go to a crisis house up by hamline university, hewitt house, or he could go home and they would have some people from a place called EMACHS come over today and set him up, possibly today, with meds and someone to stop by regularly to check on him.
we both felt, at that point, that it would be best to go home; he'd calmed down and was hungry and tired, both signs that something was passing, probably the flare or whatever it is that bipolar disorder causes.
the marbles in your mouth part--that's today. that's not knowing if later tonight he'll feel overwhelmed again and need to be held and kleenex applied, or turn manic and plan thirty-three things, in addition to cleaning the bathroom and taking out the garbage and watching a movie. that's the part that is the scary part for me.
so we had dinner with nathan at cassetta's, which was nice and kind of settling, and then we came home. dan spoke to serena and i spoke to my sister sara, and we went to bed at about 1015, just holding each other. sometimes that is the best comfort you can take, the closeness and familiarity of a body that loves you.
about 430 he got up, bit sick to his stomach. still thinking about serena and what has gone on, and probably a bit ill because of spicy pizza after nothing in his belly but hospital water and crushed ice since (we think) wednesday night. so we laid there, talking, watching the room get lighter and lighter, watching the ceiling turn white from dark gray, watching the cat get ready to sleep in the sunny-ish window, hearing birds and neighbors moving around.
it's a new day. it's a sunny day. sky's blue, air's chill and much drier than it was for the last few weeks, shiva's clawing my hip in anticipation of breakfast. right now, momentarily, i wish she didn't have claws, because her lack of claw control is a bit stinging. i need to shower and call my sister; we're supposed to have coffee and banana bread this morning. dan's sleeping again, and i don't want to wake him. once i'm up in the morning, it's difficult to go back to sleep. but i think i might find it in me to take a nap yet, this afternoon. (:
Friday, June 24, 2005
healthcare and bananas
so this morning i log onto my healthcare provider, aetna, to see about getting a counselor. i'd already located one that was in network and just had to, ostensibly, call. there's this nifty link about logging on to view claims, etc. so i log on and view my claims and NONE of my labwork is covered from the last dr's visit.
now i had good healthcare up north; used to be blue cross blue sheild, which covers everything and then some. aetna apparently doesn't work the same way. i should maybe have braced myself. but i didn't because last time i went to the dr it wasn't that bad.
which makes me wonder about the bill in my in box from the hospital; do i pay it or not?
i'm not sure anymore what's making me feel ill. it does make me sick to watch dan jump through all the hoops just to see a psychiatrist, and see the county slowly light said hoops on fire. we're not tigers or lions or bears, to have to show off our paces in order to qualify, are we? it's not fair to treat people who are sick in any manner of the sort.
if you need a fricking band-aid, you don't have to apply for one at the courthouse. same should apply if i need to see a doctor for any reason. i should not have to worry about who is providing the band aid. i should not have to worry about how long it's going to take me to get one--will i bleed out before someone finds one? should i live in fear that the band aid will break my bank account?
i don't want to have to ask for help from a counselor. it's hard enough as it is to think myself into the mantra of "yes, you want to call" when i see the hoops through which others leap, blind and mute. i'm not a reformer, and i'm not a stand-up-and-fighter, but this is getting on my last nerve. i don't want to see any more faces or bills or nameless claims telling me that there's nothing i can do except for suck it up and take it.
when i was a kid in church there was always this big focus at christmas about not having enough room at the inn, and how grateful mary and joseph must have been to have been let in to use the feeding area of the cows and such. i feel like i am witness to this no room at the inn mentality, in modern times. if you need help, there should be no fear and no need for money; someone should have doors that open regardless of your status in the state.
if you can't tell, i've been pissed off about this for days, probably months. ever since dan saw his therapist, and his therapist told him to call the county, and the county told him to see a dr and call the social security administration, and he saw the dr and called the ssn and is still waiting for the county again.
why? what does it do? he needs help NOW, not tomorrow. he needs meds NOW, not three weeks from now. everything we've read indicates that bipolar people do much better in therapy when they are medicated--because it allows them control of their moods, or at least evens them out, enough to make the therapy tools useful. so what's with this ridiculous holding pattern?
i see what he's going through, and i don't even want to start. not because i know i need meds or anything; just because i don't want to have to go through the same rigamarole. in the end, i tell myself that all his trials will be worth it--he will eventually get all the things he needs to put himself together again, and he will be the better for it.
but for the time being, i see him bleeding. i see him being leached away by his inner wounds. there is nothing i can do to help him but stand by and hold gauze onto those wounds and pray that we can stanch them until the government comes around and is able to give him better treatment than this haphazard support structure that's trying to hold him up now.
i think knowing that you are just the structure, that you are part of the crutch but not feeling like you're part of the cure--that's hard. that you're just another toothpick in the barn, just another pebble in the great wall--which apparently is supported by federal laws, if you're bipolar.
where are those laws now? where are they? i want an answer. i want to call someone and say, do you see this man? do you see what his brain is doing to him? do you understand that by taping things in place, you're not damming the river? it's still here, all of it.
so for another weekend we'll sit at home and try to scrape together hope, take our minds off the inevitable delay of monday and the start of the same cycle.
for now, i'll focus on what is good--dan's running a game tonight, i have a good book to read, and if i don't go up to kitchi tomorrow for my dear friend cari's birthday, i'll get to go to the gay pride parade with my friend nathan on sunday. well, actually i'll be at the parade; nathan's marching, proud in a lavender satin cowboy hat. and for now, i'll eat my banana, because i have bananas today, and at least there's that. (:
now i had good healthcare up north; used to be blue cross blue sheild, which covers everything and then some. aetna apparently doesn't work the same way. i should maybe have braced myself. but i didn't because last time i went to the dr it wasn't that bad.
which makes me wonder about the bill in my in box from the hospital; do i pay it or not?
i'm not sure anymore what's making me feel ill. it does make me sick to watch dan jump through all the hoops just to see a psychiatrist, and see the county slowly light said hoops on fire. we're not tigers or lions or bears, to have to show off our paces in order to qualify, are we? it's not fair to treat people who are sick in any manner of the sort.
if you need a fricking band-aid, you don't have to apply for one at the courthouse. same should apply if i need to see a doctor for any reason. i should not have to worry about who is providing the band aid. i should not have to worry about how long it's going to take me to get one--will i bleed out before someone finds one? should i live in fear that the band aid will break my bank account?
i don't want to have to ask for help from a counselor. it's hard enough as it is to think myself into the mantra of "yes, you want to call" when i see the hoops through which others leap, blind and mute. i'm not a reformer, and i'm not a stand-up-and-fighter, but this is getting on my last nerve. i don't want to see any more faces or bills or nameless claims telling me that there's nothing i can do except for suck it up and take it.
when i was a kid in church there was always this big focus at christmas about not having enough room at the inn, and how grateful mary and joseph must have been to have been let in to use the feeding area of the cows and such. i feel like i am witness to this no room at the inn mentality, in modern times. if you need help, there should be no fear and no need for money; someone should have doors that open regardless of your status in the state.
if you can't tell, i've been pissed off about this for days, probably months. ever since dan saw his therapist, and his therapist told him to call the county, and the county told him to see a dr and call the social security administration, and he saw the dr and called the ssn and is still waiting for the county again.
why? what does it do? he needs help NOW, not tomorrow. he needs meds NOW, not three weeks from now. everything we've read indicates that bipolar people do much better in therapy when they are medicated--because it allows them control of their moods, or at least evens them out, enough to make the therapy tools useful. so what's with this ridiculous holding pattern?
i see what he's going through, and i don't even want to start. not because i know i need meds or anything; just because i don't want to have to go through the same rigamarole. in the end, i tell myself that all his trials will be worth it--he will eventually get all the things he needs to put himself together again, and he will be the better for it.
but for the time being, i see him bleeding. i see him being leached away by his inner wounds. there is nothing i can do to help him but stand by and hold gauze onto those wounds and pray that we can stanch them until the government comes around and is able to give him better treatment than this haphazard support structure that's trying to hold him up now.
i think knowing that you are just the structure, that you are part of the crutch but not feeling like you're part of the cure--that's hard. that you're just another toothpick in the barn, just another pebble in the great wall--which apparently is supported by federal laws, if you're bipolar.
where are those laws now? where are they? i want an answer. i want to call someone and say, do you see this man? do you see what his brain is doing to him? do you understand that by taping things in place, you're not damming the river? it's still here, all of it.
so for another weekend we'll sit at home and try to scrape together hope, take our minds off the inevitable delay of monday and the start of the same cycle.
for now, i'll focus on what is good--dan's running a game tonight, i have a good book to read, and if i don't go up to kitchi tomorrow for my dear friend cari's birthday, i'll get to go to the gay pride parade with my friend nathan on sunday. well, actually i'll be at the parade; nathan's marching, proud in a lavender satin cowboy hat. and for now, i'll eat my banana, because i have bananas today, and at least there's that. (:
Saturday, June 18, 2005
quickly
i told dan the other day that sometimes he had to allow me time to catch up to where he was at mentally. sometimes you talk on the phone and arrive home and he's cycled completely in a different direction. it's kind of frustrating, kind of exhilirating, kind of human. today i came downstairs and felt the same way, and dan actually said that sometimes he needs to catch up with the rest of the world too, not always vice versa.
we talked a bit this morning about how therapy is going to change him, how meds might change him, how his approach to dealing with things is going to be what changes most. i finally thought about how my life before dan patterned me for a life with dan--dad was pretty mercurial before he got on blood pressure meds and had heart surgery, and his anger often shaped the way dinner went, etc. i think that the up and down aspect of life with my father created in me the acceptance to deal with people who were just as bipolar as dan is. i think about the rocks i carry in my pockets and how they were formed over millions of years to be just this shape, just this color, just this size, and how over the span of 30 years a human soul can take on much the same form.
i think a lot now about the way that our relationship works--the words we choose, the way we work together and the way we don't, the interactions, the conversations, the delicate dance. part of me wants to rewind and go back and pretend that nothing happened; that's the part of me that is procrastinating calling the therapist, finding out if aetna covers therapy, finding out about anything that might be deemed "progress." the other part of me, the other half, is overjoyed. more than half, really--dan has unearthed a lot of hidden things that needed to see the light of day. but the most precious thing that has been unearthed has been the friendship that we have always had, and the willingness to discuss things.
time has fermented this relationship; we're comfortable with each other enough to actually talk and be honest. for a long, long time we were comfortable with each other, but i am not sure we were entirely honest.
there's sweet and sour with everything in life; sometimes more sour, sometimes more sweet. the sour part of the past 3 weeks has been feeling betrayed by someone's brain chemistry; the sweet has been the comprehension and the understanding that there is a reason. the sour has been realizing that you've been living in some kind of dream world, and that you have to leave it; the sweet has been realizing that the dream world wasn't always a dream, that sometimes it was a nightmare and there is a reason for that nightmare (kind of like eating mexican and then wondering why your belly has turned to fire...) the sour of the past few weeks has been the ups and downs; the sweet is realizing that there is hope.
it's all balanced out by the education. i've done more reading about depression, mania and being bipolar and living with someone who is bipolar, in the last week, than i have in my whole life. right now dan and i are reading simultaneously "a brilliant madness," by patty duke and gloria hochman. thus far we are both giving it 5 stars--one chapter written by patty about how bipolar disorder affected her life, the next by gloria about the medical steps that can be taken and a much more clinical look at things. nothing is written, however, over or under your comprehension level, which is much appreciated because both of us read a ton. definitely recommended.
the education, the knowing--that has been sweet. i can look back and see so many events that came to fruition and caused unknowable pain in our combined past, and pin it on two things--dan's bipolar swings, and my depression. together it's like two addicts, trying to find solace in each other, never stopping the cycle.
the last three weeks have been like shedding clothing i didn't know i had on. i could come up with more metaphors but it's redundant. enough can be said by just saying this: i'm glad, with my soul, that dan finally broke this cycle. i'm glad that by doing so he has turned over a rock and found something immesurably wonderful: himself. i'm glad that by doing so, he's allowed me to search and find myself, and that together in the looking, we've found an honest friendship that i didn't know i was missing as much as i did.
i said this would be quick and so far it has been. i've only been typing a little bit now. i need to go do some laundry and maybe revel a bit in the blue, blue sky.
i've been reading the tao te ching by lao-tzu at night, and it's been comforting in its zen. have to share a spot here. it's all about balance. (: this translation is by stephen mitchell.
36
If you want to shrink something,
you must first allow it to expand.
If you want to get rid of something,
you must first allow it to flourish.
If you want to take something,
you must first allow it to be given.
This is called the subtle perception
of the way things are.
The soft overcomes the hard.
The slow overcomes the fast.
Let your workings remain a mystery.
Just show people the results.
we talked a bit this morning about how therapy is going to change him, how meds might change him, how his approach to dealing with things is going to be what changes most. i finally thought about how my life before dan patterned me for a life with dan--dad was pretty mercurial before he got on blood pressure meds and had heart surgery, and his anger often shaped the way dinner went, etc. i think that the up and down aspect of life with my father created in me the acceptance to deal with people who were just as bipolar as dan is. i think about the rocks i carry in my pockets and how they were formed over millions of years to be just this shape, just this color, just this size, and how over the span of 30 years a human soul can take on much the same form.
i think a lot now about the way that our relationship works--the words we choose, the way we work together and the way we don't, the interactions, the conversations, the delicate dance. part of me wants to rewind and go back and pretend that nothing happened; that's the part of me that is procrastinating calling the therapist, finding out if aetna covers therapy, finding out about anything that might be deemed "progress." the other part of me, the other half, is overjoyed. more than half, really--dan has unearthed a lot of hidden things that needed to see the light of day. but the most precious thing that has been unearthed has been the friendship that we have always had, and the willingness to discuss things.
time has fermented this relationship; we're comfortable with each other enough to actually talk and be honest. for a long, long time we were comfortable with each other, but i am not sure we were entirely honest.
there's sweet and sour with everything in life; sometimes more sour, sometimes more sweet. the sour part of the past 3 weeks has been feeling betrayed by someone's brain chemistry; the sweet has been the comprehension and the understanding that there is a reason. the sour has been realizing that you've been living in some kind of dream world, and that you have to leave it; the sweet has been realizing that the dream world wasn't always a dream, that sometimes it was a nightmare and there is a reason for that nightmare (kind of like eating mexican and then wondering why your belly has turned to fire...) the sour of the past few weeks has been the ups and downs; the sweet is realizing that there is hope.
it's all balanced out by the education. i've done more reading about depression, mania and being bipolar and living with someone who is bipolar, in the last week, than i have in my whole life. right now dan and i are reading simultaneously "a brilliant madness," by patty duke and gloria hochman. thus far we are both giving it 5 stars--one chapter written by patty about how bipolar disorder affected her life, the next by gloria about the medical steps that can be taken and a much more clinical look at things. nothing is written, however, over or under your comprehension level, which is much appreciated because both of us read a ton. definitely recommended.
the education, the knowing--that has been sweet. i can look back and see so many events that came to fruition and caused unknowable pain in our combined past, and pin it on two things--dan's bipolar swings, and my depression. together it's like two addicts, trying to find solace in each other, never stopping the cycle.
the last three weeks have been like shedding clothing i didn't know i had on. i could come up with more metaphors but it's redundant. enough can be said by just saying this: i'm glad, with my soul, that dan finally broke this cycle. i'm glad that by doing so he has turned over a rock and found something immesurably wonderful: himself. i'm glad that by doing so, he's allowed me to search and find myself, and that together in the looking, we've found an honest friendship that i didn't know i was missing as much as i did.
i said this would be quick and so far it has been. i've only been typing a little bit now. i need to go do some laundry and maybe revel a bit in the blue, blue sky.
i've been reading the tao te ching by lao-tzu at night, and it's been comforting in its zen. have to share a spot here. it's all about balance. (: this translation is by stephen mitchell.
36
If you want to shrink something,
you must first allow it to expand.
If you want to get rid of something,
you must first allow it to flourish.
If you want to take something,
you must first allow it to be given.
This is called the subtle perception
of the way things are.
The soft overcomes the hard.
The slow overcomes the fast.
Let your workings remain a mystery.
Just show people the results.
Monday, June 13, 2005
hindsight
so dan got a diagnosis today: bipolar disorder I. at least it's a name. i was reminded forcibly of talking to serena about when she was diagnosed with lupus after being sick for so long, and uncomfortable, and finally having a name and an approach to the problem, and the utter sense of relief this brings.
it's not the end of the road; it's finding your spot on the map, and realizing that it's a long way but that there is a way.
since three weeks ago, when dan had his self-professed and therapist-sanctioned "psychotic break," we've known there is an elephant in the house. it was probably mastadon sized. but after a while you just keep averting your eyes and making believe that it's really not there.
now the elephant has a name. probably still won't come when called, or stop pooping in the living room for a long time, but it has a name.
on saturday morning i woke up with this feeling that i had to face the fear and put education on my side, and i searched online for much of the morning for answers to the therapist's original feeling that it was bipolar disorder. i read up until i was nearly bored. and it helped. it helped because even if we weren't sure that this was the exact elephant in the house with us, i could now tell it was an elephant of some kind.
there's a lot of work to be done. a lot of demons to face and a ton of issues to resolve, or heal, or learn to live with. but it's a start, and that's all i can ask. at this point i just want dan to be healthy, and me, and hope that the start we have taken--naming this moody elephant--will put us on a track to being more healthy and living a life that we want to live, separate or together.
i can look back on the lives we've lived thus far and see where the breakdown was, all the times we stared at each other between the legs of this gray goliath and thought we had reached comprehension and understanding. i can look back and say that i wish this had happened years ago, because it would have freed up our lives and our feelings much sooner. i've communicated better with dan since that thursday than i think i ever have. i know i've said it before, but it's the truth. i've always wanted this honesty; i guess i just never knew how to both ask for it and demand it and value it.
hindsight, as they say, is 20/20. the elephant has always been in the room.
i think i'll name mine "imelda."
it's not the end of the road; it's finding your spot on the map, and realizing that it's a long way but that there is a way.
since three weeks ago, when dan had his self-professed and therapist-sanctioned "psychotic break," we've known there is an elephant in the house. it was probably mastadon sized. but after a while you just keep averting your eyes and making believe that it's really not there.
now the elephant has a name. probably still won't come when called, or stop pooping in the living room for a long time, but it has a name.
on saturday morning i woke up with this feeling that i had to face the fear and put education on my side, and i searched online for much of the morning for answers to the therapist's original feeling that it was bipolar disorder. i read up until i was nearly bored. and it helped. it helped because even if we weren't sure that this was the exact elephant in the house with us, i could now tell it was an elephant of some kind.
there's a lot of work to be done. a lot of demons to face and a ton of issues to resolve, or heal, or learn to live with. but it's a start, and that's all i can ask. at this point i just want dan to be healthy, and me, and hope that the start we have taken--naming this moody elephant--will put us on a track to being more healthy and living a life that we want to live, separate or together.
i can look back on the lives we've lived thus far and see where the breakdown was, all the times we stared at each other between the legs of this gray goliath and thought we had reached comprehension and understanding. i can look back and say that i wish this had happened years ago, because it would have freed up our lives and our feelings much sooner. i've communicated better with dan since that thursday than i think i ever have. i know i've said it before, but it's the truth. i've always wanted this honesty; i guess i just never knew how to both ask for it and demand it and value it.
hindsight, as they say, is 20/20. the elephant has always been in the room.
i think i'll name mine "imelda."
Saturday, June 11, 2005
patience
they say it's a virtue
but i can't see how it can be
i'm tired of waiting and waiting
of the apathy that i see as patience
i want to do
something
for you
that will lift or support
much in the manner of my own beloved
bra
but my hands are tied
by fear.
***
so it's saturday and dan's at a temp job that is boring beyond belief. i understand boring (serena, you'll recall with me RUST) and i understand temporary (my sister sara and i worked cleaning apartments for two weeks one time) and i understand the need for money. i am trying very hard to be supportive and not be judgmental, but sometimes it becomes difficult. i dislike walking around my own house on eggshells--but that is the state of the union and eventually i will become used to it, and it won't bother me.
which is my greatest fear.
i don't want to be numb. i want dan to have something positive to hang onto. i want him to see that there is light at the end of the tunnel, that there are things to hang onto, and i understand that right now he's not seeing it because it's buried. i just need some support too--and this job is going to help out, even minutely. he is seeing it as a nail in the coffin of failure; i'm seeing it as a reprieve, even momentary, of the amounts of money i see going out of my account to feed us.
of course, he's not eating much right now, so it's not that large of a dent, i suppose.
the mental health center isn't open on saturdays, so i am unable once again to make an appointment until monday. i'm hoping to set aside some time on monday morning to actually call, but i know that i need to get into work fairly early in order to catch up on last week. i've been so unfocused at work lately, so uncaring about the output that i'm creating, or rather lack thereof, that i've created more work for myself. now it's time for damage control, i suppose.
anyway, i'm off to make my kitchen floor shine... (;
but i can't see how it can be
i'm tired of waiting and waiting
of the apathy that i see as patience
i want to do
something
for you
that will lift or support
much in the manner of my own beloved
bra
but my hands are tied
by fear.
***
so it's saturday and dan's at a temp job that is boring beyond belief. i understand boring (serena, you'll recall with me RUST) and i understand temporary (my sister sara and i worked cleaning apartments for two weeks one time) and i understand the need for money. i am trying very hard to be supportive and not be judgmental, but sometimes it becomes difficult. i dislike walking around my own house on eggshells--but that is the state of the union and eventually i will become used to it, and it won't bother me.
which is my greatest fear.
i don't want to be numb. i want dan to have something positive to hang onto. i want him to see that there is light at the end of the tunnel, that there are things to hang onto, and i understand that right now he's not seeing it because it's buried. i just need some support too--and this job is going to help out, even minutely. he is seeing it as a nail in the coffin of failure; i'm seeing it as a reprieve, even momentary, of the amounts of money i see going out of my account to feed us.
of course, he's not eating much right now, so it's not that large of a dent, i suppose.
the mental health center isn't open on saturdays, so i am unable once again to make an appointment until monday. i'm hoping to set aside some time on monday morning to actually call, but i know that i need to get into work fairly early in order to catch up on last week. i've been so unfocused at work lately, so uncaring about the output that i'm creating, or rather lack thereof, that i've created more work for myself. now it's time for damage control, i suppose.
anyway, i'm off to make my kitchen floor shine... (;
Monday, June 06, 2005
topsy turvy
our friend darin tells this awful joke about these two horses in this field, topsy and turvy. i'm not going to go into it because it's long, it's boring, and in the ten years i've known darin, i've heard it about three thousand times. or so.
but the name does describe how things are going.
topsy. and turvy.
today was better than most have been recently. dan was in a good mood, and that makes life a bit easier. i have to admit it. i'm always worried because i don't know what kind of mood he will be in, and his mood dictates the moods of those around him. i try hard, for the most part, to zen myself into a place that doesn't allow me to be affected by the waves he creates around himself. but a lot of time it's beyond me to escape those waves. i hold out hope and i have faith in that the therapist he sees will give him tools he can use in his life to make it easier on him, to make his hurts not so bad, to make life livable and likeable again. i also hope that the therapist i see will be able to do the same for me--maybe give me tools that will help motivate me into finishing my degree, looking for a new occupation, moving towards owning a home, etc.
there has to be a better way. something that is less like living on a slip n' slide and more along the lines of a pretty carousel or something akin. right?
it makes it easier to know that you are not alone, that there is hope and that there are other people out there who are both willing to help and at the same time going through issues that are like the ones i am facing, or dan is, or anyone. it give me something to look forward to. today was such a good day. it gives me hope that days in the future can be like this, that there is beauty in the leftovers of whatever it is that is happening.
i cling to the quote from delenn, about how growth happens but there is pain. sometimes there has to be pain. sometimes there has to be sorrow and hurt, in order for joy to taste so good, in order for hope to be so fragile.
i think there is. maybe. i'm hoping. will keep you posted. for now i'll paste some khalil gibran in here because he merits exploration, and because his words really do apply:
from The Prophet: On Joy and Sorrow
Your joy is your sorrow unmasked.
And the selfsame well from which your laughter rises was oftentimes filled with your tears.
And how else can it be?
The deeper that sorrow carves into your being, the more joy you can contain.
Is not the cup that hold your wine the very cup that was burned in the potter's oven?
And is not the lute that soothes your spirit, the very wood that was hollowed with knives?
When you are joyous, look deep into your heart and you shall find it is only that which has given you sorrow that is giving you joy.
When you are sorrowful look again in your heart, and you shall see that in truth you are weeping for that which has been your delight.
Some of you say, "Joy is greater than sorrow," and others say, "Nay, sorrow is the greater."
But I say unto you, they are inseparable.
Together they come, and when one sits alone with you at your board, remember that the other is asleep upon your bed.
Verily you are suspended like scales between your sorrow and your joy.
Only when you are empty are you at standstill and balanced.
When the treasure-keeper lifts you to weigh his gold and his silver, needs must your joy or your sorrow rise or fall.
but the name does describe how things are going.
topsy. and turvy.
today was better than most have been recently. dan was in a good mood, and that makes life a bit easier. i have to admit it. i'm always worried because i don't know what kind of mood he will be in, and his mood dictates the moods of those around him. i try hard, for the most part, to zen myself into a place that doesn't allow me to be affected by the waves he creates around himself. but a lot of time it's beyond me to escape those waves. i hold out hope and i have faith in that the therapist he sees will give him tools he can use in his life to make it easier on him, to make his hurts not so bad, to make life livable and likeable again. i also hope that the therapist i see will be able to do the same for me--maybe give me tools that will help motivate me into finishing my degree, looking for a new occupation, moving towards owning a home, etc.
there has to be a better way. something that is less like living on a slip n' slide and more along the lines of a pretty carousel or something akin. right?
it makes it easier to know that you are not alone, that there is hope and that there are other people out there who are both willing to help and at the same time going through issues that are like the ones i am facing, or dan is, or anyone. it give me something to look forward to. today was such a good day. it gives me hope that days in the future can be like this, that there is beauty in the leftovers of whatever it is that is happening.
i cling to the quote from delenn, about how growth happens but there is pain. sometimes there has to be pain. sometimes there has to be sorrow and hurt, in order for joy to taste so good, in order for hope to be so fragile.
i think there is. maybe. i'm hoping. will keep you posted. for now i'll paste some khalil gibran in here because he merits exploration, and because his words really do apply:
from The Prophet: On Joy and Sorrow
Your joy is your sorrow unmasked.
And the selfsame well from which your laughter rises was oftentimes filled with your tears.
And how else can it be?
The deeper that sorrow carves into your being, the more joy you can contain.
Is not the cup that hold your wine the very cup that was burned in the potter's oven?
And is not the lute that soothes your spirit, the very wood that was hollowed with knives?
When you are joyous, look deep into your heart and you shall find it is only that which has given you sorrow that is giving you joy.
When you are sorrowful look again in your heart, and you shall see that in truth you are weeping for that which has been your delight.
Some of you say, "Joy is greater than sorrow," and others say, "Nay, sorrow is the greater."
But I say unto you, they are inseparable.
Together they come, and when one sits alone with you at your board, remember that the other is asleep upon your bed.
Verily you are suspended like scales between your sorrow and your joy.
Only when you are empty are you at standstill and balanced.
When the treasure-keeper lifts you to weigh his gold and his silver, needs must your joy or your sorrow rise or fall.
Saturday, June 04, 2005
the good, the bad, and the unfocused...
nathan wrote the other day about breaking the lens on his camera, and how he was trying to get used to the new lens and how it affected his picture taking.
i'm feeling about the same way.
the lens through which i viewed life for a very long time has been blurred. it's cracked. it affects everything that i see. rose tinted and sharp, it's overly critical and unfocused. can a lens be confused? or can it just confuse?
i'm not sure.
in the end, the reality is that i need a new one. it feels like dan does, too. the way we look at the world has become skewed, and so has the way we look at each other. it feels like forever until monday, when i can find out who my insurance covers in order for me to see someone about my situation, and i know dan is in the same boat. you just want the time to go by so that you know where you're going to end up.
i'm going to go all geeky in analogies, here: it's like playing WoW online, and having lag. you don't know where you're going to end up. all you can see is this big gray or blue or brown splotch and you're stuck there until the system catches up to you. you're not sure, the whole time you're waiting, if you're going to un-lag and be underwater, or un-lag and be where you want to be. or perhaps the question isn't that you're where you want to be, just that you're somewhere.
i can look at a map and tell you where i'd like to go, to visit. i can think about the media i own and tell you what i want to hear or read or work on. i have a vague idea of where i want to be in 5 years. but i want the 5 years to be done now, so i can see if i'm there.
rice is in the steamer; we're supposed to be having teryaki beef but dan's out for the count upstairs, and after the day--work this morning after very little sleep, trying to rummage sale and getting downpoured on, slogging back to car and driving home to change, hitting the grocery store--i'm tired too. every cell in my body feels somewhat dehydrated and sleepy.
and my rose tinted vision of life, albeit slanted and messy with fingerprints from trying to fix it, is now fogged with nap-page.
i'm feeling about the same way.
the lens through which i viewed life for a very long time has been blurred. it's cracked. it affects everything that i see. rose tinted and sharp, it's overly critical and unfocused. can a lens be confused? or can it just confuse?
i'm not sure.
in the end, the reality is that i need a new one. it feels like dan does, too. the way we look at the world has become skewed, and so has the way we look at each other. it feels like forever until monday, when i can find out who my insurance covers in order for me to see someone about my situation, and i know dan is in the same boat. you just want the time to go by so that you know where you're going to end up.
i'm going to go all geeky in analogies, here: it's like playing WoW online, and having lag. you don't know where you're going to end up. all you can see is this big gray or blue or brown splotch and you're stuck there until the system catches up to you. you're not sure, the whole time you're waiting, if you're going to un-lag and be underwater, or un-lag and be where you want to be. or perhaps the question isn't that you're where you want to be, just that you're somewhere.
i can look at a map and tell you where i'd like to go, to visit. i can think about the media i own and tell you what i want to hear or read or work on. i have a vague idea of where i want to be in 5 years. but i want the 5 years to be done now, so i can see if i'm there.
rice is in the steamer; we're supposed to be having teryaki beef but dan's out for the count upstairs, and after the day--work this morning after very little sleep, trying to rummage sale and getting downpoured on, slogging back to car and driving home to change, hitting the grocery store--i'm tired too. every cell in my body feels somewhat dehydrated and sleepy.
and my rose tinted vision of life, albeit slanted and messy with fingerprints from trying to fix it, is now fogged with nap-page.
Wednesday, June 01, 2005
short post
my shins hurt. guess i've been overstriding when i walk. that or i need new shoes. may have to experiment and do something about the shoes. maybe watch my strides, too. i know where the overstriding comes from: walking with tall people. (;
on a related shoe note, my beloved sister sara got my birks back. they'd been at a shoe repair place since last fall, after something happened and the cork outgrew the sole. they've been done being fixed for a while, but i kept forgetting to pick them up.
so monday we go up to sara's and dad is all excited about showing me his belly (which looks better, but also looks like he got the rough end of the bar fight, lots of bruising) and also that he'd made potatoes for dinner. i was like, whatever, okay, proud of you, good on ya, etc. there's a turkey roaster on the table and i know my mouth started watering at the thought of tasty taters. we chat for a while and finally sara takes the top of the turkey roaster off--and there are my sandals!!! she apparently had a pair of her own shoes in for fixing and asked if he had any birks left, or if he sold them if no one came to pick them up. the shoe repair guru said that other shoes he'd sell, but birks he kept because someone always comes back for their birks.
which is the truth. birks fit like no shoe i have ever worn--they're formed to my feet and i never get tired of walking when i've got my birks on.
unfortunately, they're not designed for exercise walking.
but hiking, wandering, exploring--birks keep your feet happy and that keeps the rest of your legs happy, which helps your hips, and your spine...so on and so forth.
so my feet, the base of operations, have been overjoyed since monday.
(; thank you, fast eddie, god of shoe repair, and waiter for slow birk wear-ers. and thank you sister sara!!!
on a related shoe note, my beloved sister sara got my birks back. they'd been at a shoe repair place since last fall, after something happened and the cork outgrew the sole. they've been done being fixed for a while, but i kept forgetting to pick them up.
so monday we go up to sara's and dad is all excited about showing me his belly (which looks better, but also looks like he got the rough end of the bar fight, lots of bruising) and also that he'd made potatoes for dinner. i was like, whatever, okay, proud of you, good on ya, etc. there's a turkey roaster on the table and i know my mouth started watering at the thought of tasty taters. we chat for a while and finally sara takes the top of the turkey roaster off--and there are my sandals!!! she apparently had a pair of her own shoes in for fixing and asked if he had any birks left, or if he sold them if no one came to pick them up. the shoe repair guru said that other shoes he'd sell, but birks he kept because someone always comes back for their birks.
which is the truth. birks fit like no shoe i have ever worn--they're formed to my feet and i never get tired of walking when i've got my birks on.
unfortunately, they're not designed for exercise walking.
but hiking, wandering, exploring--birks keep your feet happy and that keeps the rest of your legs happy, which helps your hips, and your spine...so on and so forth.
so my feet, the base of operations, have been overjoyed since monday.
(; thank you, fast eddie, god of shoe repair, and waiter for slow birk wear-ers. and thank you sister sara!!!
Tuesday, May 31, 2005
day is done
i'm rootless and wandering
gypsy woman i close my eyes and everywhere
is
home
nowhere is welcoming
and yet i belong
all over.
***
the dr was, to say the least, refreshing. she didn't do a full exam, which was nice. listened to what i had going on and made the astute observation that it really hasn't been long enough to judge, as far as the "female" problems go. so for now, birth control, to keep my cycles in order, and hopefully to cut down both on time of cycle and severity. i'm sick of being sick every other two weeks--cranky, bitchy, whiny, crampy, bloated, all around olympic caliber p.m.s. so that will be nice, once i figure out these pills.
i never went on the pill before. was on depo provera but hated it, except for the fact that i didn't have a cycle at all. that was nice. but i didn't feel right, and there's no way to explain it other than that.
so for now, monitor.
blood pressure was still up, but not as horrible as last time i was in. yay.. the dr said that my depression could be amplified by the meds for the blood pressure...so another wait and see. she did not want to medicate for the depression right away; VERY relieved. i'm on enough meds now. don't need another at the moment. she gave me a referral to the mental health unit, which will ask questions and then set me up with someone who might be able to help me.
so another step in the right direction. i think.
i'm just facing now the work that comes with trying to fix your life. i have to start walking every day. i have to start taking my blood pressure on a regular basis. i have to take more tablets. which doesn't seem like much if you're on them, but when you're just starting...it's a bit much. i have to see a therapist, and see if i can get my life in order.
maybe then, when i am accustomed to being healthier and feeling better, maybe then i can proceed with other areas of my life.
for months now dan has been telling me that i should have gone back to school to be a vet tech. maybe i should. or at least look into what is required. and then make a decision. i think back to when i was in high school and college and think about how much i wanted to be a veterenarian, and how i discounted the whole thing due to math. and then i think about my day to day workload, and how much of it is math, and how perhaps this is life's way of showing me that i've got nothing to fear and nothing to lose.
but sometimes it is hard to see the lessons life is offering, when you're so closed off that you can no longer see them.
i have to admit, i am lonely down here. i seem to have lost my boyfriend, and my best friend, and it feels like it's because i don't have the system requirements to keep up. serena's out west; cari's up north, and cathy goes to bed ten minutes ago. tangee has a child; tish is kind of a tv nut. i miss my girlfriends, and i miss having people to hang out with and communicate with, too. i can't afford a better computer now, so i guess it's just a matter of making do with what i have. just tired of making do. i hear dan and serena talking--the tapping of keys online--behind me, and i feel so far out of the loop that i cannot describe it.
it isn't that i don't have friends; i know i do, and i know, from the outpouring of support lately, that they are there---AND THANK YOU FOR BEING HERE FOR ME, ALL OF YOU! i just wish everyone were closer, so that a cup of coffee didn't have to be planned out two weeks in advance. i guess i need someone else in the area who is a) awake b) cheap and c) easily amused. LOL in retrospect, i moved here, so i guess it's up to me to find this person.
it's just another one of my molehill-mountains.
lucky for me, the shepherd's pie is almost done, and then it' s off to bed. day is done. one step closer, to something.
gypsy woman i close my eyes and everywhere
is
home
nowhere is welcoming
and yet i belong
all over.
***
the dr was, to say the least, refreshing. she didn't do a full exam, which was nice. listened to what i had going on and made the astute observation that it really hasn't been long enough to judge, as far as the "female" problems go. so for now, birth control, to keep my cycles in order, and hopefully to cut down both on time of cycle and severity. i'm sick of being sick every other two weeks--cranky, bitchy, whiny, crampy, bloated, all around olympic caliber p.m.s. so that will be nice, once i figure out these pills.
i never went on the pill before. was on depo provera but hated it, except for the fact that i didn't have a cycle at all. that was nice. but i didn't feel right, and there's no way to explain it other than that.
so for now, monitor.
blood pressure was still up, but not as horrible as last time i was in. yay.. the dr said that my depression could be amplified by the meds for the blood pressure...so another wait and see. she did not want to medicate for the depression right away; VERY relieved. i'm on enough meds now. don't need another at the moment. she gave me a referral to the mental health unit, which will ask questions and then set me up with someone who might be able to help me.
so another step in the right direction. i think.
i'm just facing now the work that comes with trying to fix your life. i have to start walking every day. i have to start taking my blood pressure on a regular basis. i have to take more tablets. which doesn't seem like much if you're on them, but when you're just starting...it's a bit much. i have to see a therapist, and see if i can get my life in order.
maybe then, when i am accustomed to being healthier and feeling better, maybe then i can proceed with other areas of my life.
for months now dan has been telling me that i should have gone back to school to be a vet tech. maybe i should. or at least look into what is required. and then make a decision. i think back to when i was in high school and college and think about how much i wanted to be a veterenarian, and how i discounted the whole thing due to math. and then i think about my day to day workload, and how much of it is math, and how perhaps this is life's way of showing me that i've got nothing to fear and nothing to lose.
but sometimes it is hard to see the lessons life is offering, when you're so closed off that you can no longer see them.
i have to admit, i am lonely down here. i seem to have lost my boyfriend, and my best friend, and it feels like it's because i don't have the system requirements to keep up. serena's out west; cari's up north, and cathy goes to bed ten minutes ago. tangee has a child; tish is kind of a tv nut. i miss my girlfriends, and i miss having people to hang out with and communicate with, too. i can't afford a better computer now, so i guess it's just a matter of making do with what i have. just tired of making do. i hear dan and serena talking--the tapping of keys online--behind me, and i feel so far out of the loop that i cannot describe it.
it isn't that i don't have friends; i know i do, and i know, from the outpouring of support lately, that they are there---AND THANK YOU FOR BEING HERE FOR ME, ALL OF YOU! i just wish everyone were closer, so that a cup of coffee didn't have to be planned out two weeks in advance. i guess i need someone else in the area who is a) awake b) cheap and c) easily amused. LOL in retrospect, i moved here, so i guess it's up to me to find this person.
it's just another one of my molehill-mountains.
lucky for me, the shepherd's pie is almost done, and then it' s off to bed. day is done. one step closer, to something.
heavy
my limbs
are weighed down by procrastination
the fear of failure
the lure of temorary insanity
i'd like to bait them free, hang feathery bits
on trees, the car, perhaps even
people
just to get myself out of my gray lake
but it's not going to happen
alone
so i sit typing
each finger, one thousand pounds
sinking into your keyboard
i should be typing
on my own but i can't
move
three feet
west.
***
today is my doctor day. i have an appointment at 1030 am but i'll be leaving around 10 in order that i might arrive early, to be safe. this time i will bring a book; last time i didn't and there was only one parenting magazine.
today i'm very nervous. perhaps that is what is inspiring the feeling of simultaneously being free of everything and weighted down by all of life's generalties.
i'm terrified that there's something wrong that cannot be fixed. with my body, with my brain, with my beloved. who is only my beloved--i'm not exactly beloved by him at the time being. i'm scared that i have poisoned our relationship, but i know that to be in a relationship there has to be two people--two individuals coming together. and right now, we're not two individuals. we're barely one person spread thin between two people.
i'm scared that the doctor won't understand that i'm depressed, and that i don't know how to fix it. i'm scared of crying all the time, of bleeding all the time, of having to just live in limbo forever. i don't know why it takes things like this to wake me up; why can't i wake up on my own and see that there is a need for help?
why does it take such great pain?
i think about that quote from babylon 5, about how the only way to grow is to constantly go through states of pain, in which you are being born. i try to focus and hang onto that quote because it brings me sanity. finding that bit of sanity reminds me of getting water at my grandma altobelli's house, on hot days when i was a kid--it was always in this greenish container with a white spigot in her fridge, and tasted so cold and so crisp and slightly metallic.
maybe it reminds me of easier times, when perhaps whatever it is that is flawed between my brain cells was dormant.
these past few years have been difficult. lots of tumultuous things happening--trying this relationship with dan again, moving to the Cities, being away from friends, dad's heart bypass surgery, my cat slowly wasting away, my car slowly wasting away, more surgery with dad, his imminent retirement, and now my uncle, dying, or clinging to life.
understanding that i'm probably depressed.
despite what the websites say, it does feel like something to be ashamed of. it's like, why can't i deal with the problems i have? why can't i face life? why is joy so fleeting? does it have to be? is it like this for everyone? does everyone feel worth so little? i feel like burdening my problems on someone else is just weakness.
but maybe that's my dad talking, when i was young. "why are you crying? i'll give you something to cry about..." etcetera. i'm afraid of the reprecussions--what if i lose this creative vein that is tapped when i am feeling down? what if i can only write poetry and fiction when i'm depressed? does being depressed open up channels to the creative spoodge of the universe and make my hands move in nouns and verbs?
i'm afraid to find out.
i'm afraid to change my world--despite the fact that it's not what i want, and despite the fact that my relationship is not healthy, i'm terrified to lose what i have. i'm usually not open to change, especially when it's not my choice of change. i don't like not having options. i don't like being forced into one thing or another.
but the other day, thursday, dan made me face a lot of things that i think have been hidden behind my gray veil for a long time, made me be honest about us and me and him. and the thing that i remember thinking, when he said that he would be open to outside help, was that i was so glad because that meant maybe i could have help, too.
i never thought about needing it. i never thought i did. but i think i do. and at this juncture, i'm more afraid of hurting than i am of changing.
so i'm going to the doctor. it's my big day. i'm going to find out what's wrong with my uterus and tell my doctor that i think i'm depressed. and we'll see what i find out.
the part of kim that's afraid of life is curled up in a corner trying not to cry, not to be ashamed, not to be embarrassed.
the part of kim that loves exploring things and learning is keyed up.
heavy and weightless. drowning and reaching for the lifeguard. closing one door and opening another. trying to be born, i guess.
are weighed down by procrastination
the fear of failure
the lure of temorary insanity
i'd like to bait them free, hang feathery bits
on trees, the car, perhaps even
people
just to get myself out of my gray lake
but it's not going to happen
alone
so i sit typing
each finger, one thousand pounds
sinking into your keyboard
i should be typing
on my own but i can't
move
three feet
west.
***
today is my doctor day. i have an appointment at 1030 am but i'll be leaving around 10 in order that i might arrive early, to be safe. this time i will bring a book; last time i didn't and there was only one parenting magazine.
today i'm very nervous. perhaps that is what is inspiring the feeling of simultaneously being free of everything and weighted down by all of life's generalties.
i'm terrified that there's something wrong that cannot be fixed. with my body, with my brain, with my beloved. who is only my beloved--i'm not exactly beloved by him at the time being. i'm scared that i have poisoned our relationship, but i know that to be in a relationship there has to be two people--two individuals coming together. and right now, we're not two individuals. we're barely one person spread thin between two people.
i'm scared that the doctor won't understand that i'm depressed, and that i don't know how to fix it. i'm scared of crying all the time, of bleeding all the time, of having to just live in limbo forever. i don't know why it takes things like this to wake me up; why can't i wake up on my own and see that there is a need for help?
why does it take such great pain?
i think about that quote from babylon 5, about how the only way to grow is to constantly go through states of pain, in which you are being born. i try to focus and hang onto that quote because it brings me sanity. finding that bit of sanity reminds me of getting water at my grandma altobelli's house, on hot days when i was a kid--it was always in this greenish container with a white spigot in her fridge, and tasted so cold and so crisp and slightly metallic.
maybe it reminds me of easier times, when perhaps whatever it is that is flawed between my brain cells was dormant.
these past few years have been difficult. lots of tumultuous things happening--trying this relationship with dan again, moving to the Cities, being away from friends, dad's heart bypass surgery, my cat slowly wasting away, my car slowly wasting away, more surgery with dad, his imminent retirement, and now my uncle, dying, or clinging to life.
understanding that i'm probably depressed.
despite what the websites say, it does feel like something to be ashamed of. it's like, why can't i deal with the problems i have? why can't i face life? why is joy so fleeting? does it have to be? is it like this for everyone? does everyone feel worth so little? i feel like burdening my problems on someone else is just weakness.
but maybe that's my dad talking, when i was young. "why are you crying? i'll give you something to cry about..." etcetera. i'm afraid of the reprecussions--what if i lose this creative vein that is tapped when i am feeling down? what if i can only write poetry and fiction when i'm depressed? does being depressed open up channels to the creative spoodge of the universe and make my hands move in nouns and verbs?
i'm afraid to find out.
i'm afraid to change my world--despite the fact that it's not what i want, and despite the fact that my relationship is not healthy, i'm terrified to lose what i have. i'm usually not open to change, especially when it's not my choice of change. i don't like not having options. i don't like being forced into one thing or another.
but the other day, thursday, dan made me face a lot of things that i think have been hidden behind my gray veil for a long time, made me be honest about us and me and him. and the thing that i remember thinking, when he said that he would be open to outside help, was that i was so glad because that meant maybe i could have help, too.
i never thought about needing it. i never thought i did. but i think i do. and at this juncture, i'm more afraid of hurting than i am of changing.
so i'm going to the doctor. it's my big day. i'm going to find out what's wrong with my uterus and tell my doctor that i think i'm depressed. and we'll see what i find out.
the part of kim that's afraid of life is curled up in a corner trying not to cry, not to be ashamed, not to be embarrassed.
the part of kim that loves exploring things and learning is keyed up.
heavy and weightless. drowning and reaching for the lifeguard. closing one door and opening another. trying to be born, i guess.
Sunday, May 29, 2005
i own a bitchy cat.
yesterday i spent the day shopping w/ corpse and cathy; corpse wanted women to help pick out his wardrobe again, just like 2 years ago when serena and i went out w/ him. dan was along that time too, and i almost wished he were with this time because i think that with only women picking out the clothing, corpse might be in for sore spots later...he may appear a bit "metrosexual." but what can we do now, return things? ha. i laugh in the face of good fashion. (;
dan and i had a good talk yesterday afternoon, and then he went off to spend time with serena, and i went off to drink wine w/ my girlfriends. thought it was going to be a sleepover, but i'm glad i came home because otherwise the cat would have woken up the rest of the household VERY early with her terrorist demands for fresh food.
as it was i'm up and i thought for sure i'd be able to sleep more than 7.5 hrs. not likely. i had some terribly bizarre dreams about being at a school ten years after a bus had crashed into it, and having to help my cousin janelle, who was trying to get a very old rottweiler and something that looked like a large apricot poodle to mate. don't ask me, i have no clue. it's not like i was watching animal planet yesterday, or at the dog park...who knows. there was a spot in the middle of the dream when i was standing in my living room, looking at my huge coffee table, where someone had penned a note in red ink on blue paper: kim, call your parents, very upset. i had a feeling it was about jed, and for a minute i forced myself to wake up, and then fell back asleep and into humping dogs. gah. why, brain, why?
so today we drive to river falls, wi, to help spoon and josh move. i'm glad of the activity because if i'm around the house i just find something to cry over. i'm chalking it up right now to everything that is going on, with the added bonus of being premenstrual and incoherently weepy already. as with all things it takes me forever to understand and wrap my head around them. case in point: dan's a computer gamer. it's taken me a long time, and i'm still working on it, for me to not be jealous of the time he spends on the computer, happily gaming. the better i understand it, the better i feel about it. but it still is time i cannot spend with him, because my computer has been reduced to word processor, just because of changing system requirements. i have to admit that amelia does look tiny and ancient next to dan and eero's modern behemoths. after typing on dan's computer too, i get on amelia and immediately have to put my waiting-in-line skills to use, because she's a bit on the slow side, in comparison.
either way. it'll be good to get out of the house. it'll be good to help someone else. it'll be good to step back for a little bit. i can't get out of my head long enough to make sense of anything right now. and as long as i have my cell phone w/ me, hopefully mom and dad will be able to make contact as needed. which means that jed won't be out of my head, either. it's like walking meditation--i have to force things out to have the silence in my head. shoo out the thousands of milling thoughts; the party's over. ask the emotions to leave, just until morning, just to get through. i suppose i've never applied my yoga stuff to everyday things--or maybe i have. i remember thinking at one point that for me cleaning is like meditation. i don't see why helping someone move cannot be grouped in the same category.
tomorrow we get together w/ my sister and her husband for a later lunch in the afternoon--sounds like burgers and such. i think dan is coming with me. i have no idea, because at the time i accepted, we were not in the situation in which we are now in. it hurts me that i'm not his best friend any longer. or maybe i am? i don't know. serena seems to have taken that place. even though dan says that i'm not being "set aside" i can't help but feel that i am.
i think it's back to the self-worth thing. hopefully a counselor or therapist can help me make sense of that feeling, and get this half-assed, haphazard life i lead turned around. i'd like to have goals, and see them completed. i'd like to not be afraid. my problem is that i turn everything into some insurmountable wall. when i was a kid my mom used to say that i turned molehills into mountains; it's not a far cry from where i am now. i don't know why; it seems like i should have the necessary tools, but they're just absent, or maybe forgotten. maybe i had them but lost them. who knows. it's useless at this point to gripe and whine over what i'm missing, or what i'm perceiving as missing, because someday soon i hope to regain and recoup and recover.
and my totally bitchy cat has now eaten and made a BIG stinky in the back hallway. so i'm off to do menial work like scooping the poop of felines. which, according to my cat, is the very reason i breathe... (;
dan and i had a good talk yesterday afternoon, and then he went off to spend time with serena, and i went off to drink wine w/ my girlfriends. thought it was going to be a sleepover, but i'm glad i came home because otherwise the cat would have woken up the rest of the household VERY early with her terrorist demands for fresh food.
as it was i'm up and i thought for sure i'd be able to sleep more than 7.5 hrs. not likely. i had some terribly bizarre dreams about being at a school ten years after a bus had crashed into it, and having to help my cousin janelle, who was trying to get a very old rottweiler and something that looked like a large apricot poodle to mate. don't ask me, i have no clue. it's not like i was watching animal planet yesterday, or at the dog park...who knows. there was a spot in the middle of the dream when i was standing in my living room, looking at my huge coffee table, where someone had penned a note in red ink on blue paper: kim, call your parents, very upset. i had a feeling it was about jed, and for a minute i forced myself to wake up, and then fell back asleep and into humping dogs. gah. why, brain, why?
so today we drive to river falls, wi, to help spoon and josh move. i'm glad of the activity because if i'm around the house i just find something to cry over. i'm chalking it up right now to everything that is going on, with the added bonus of being premenstrual and incoherently weepy already. as with all things it takes me forever to understand and wrap my head around them. case in point: dan's a computer gamer. it's taken me a long time, and i'm still working on it, for me to not be jealous of the time he spends on the computer, happily gaming. the better i understand it, the better i feel about it. but it still is time i cannot spend with him, because my computer has been reduced to word processor, just because of changing system requirements. i have to admit that amelia does look tiny and ancient next to dan and eero's modern behemoths. after typing on dan's computer too, i get on amelia and immediately have to put my waiting-in-line skills to use, because she's a bit on the slow side, in comparison.
either way. it'll be good to get out of the house. it'll be good to help someone else. it'll be good to step back for a little bit. i can't get out of my head long enough to make sense of anything right now. and as long as i have my cell phone w/ me, hopefully mom and dad will be able to make contact as needed. which means that jed won't be out of my head, either. it's like walking meditation--i have to force things out to have the silence in my head. shoo out the thousands of milling thoughts; the party's over. ask the emotions to leave, just until morning, just to get through. i suppose i've never applied my yoga stuff to everyday things--or maybe i have. i remember thinking at one point that for me cleaning is like meditation. i don't see why helping someone move cannot be grouped in the same category.
tomorrow we get together w/ my sister and her husband for a later lunch in the afternoon--sounds like burgers and such. i think dan is coming with me. i have no idea, because at the time i accepted, we were not in the situation in which we are now in. it hurts me that i'm not his best friend any longer. or maybe i am? i don't know. serena seems to have taken that place. even though dan says that i'm not being "set aside" i can't help but feel that i am.
i think it's back to the self-worth thing. hopefully a counselor or therapist can help me make sense of that feeling, and get this half-assed, haphazard life i lead turned around. i'd like to have goals, and see them completed. i'd like to not be afraid. my problem is that i turn everything into some insurmountable wall. when i was a kid my mom used to say that i turned molehills into mountains; it's not a far cry from where i am now. i don't know why; it seems like i should have the necessary tools, but they're just absent, or maybe forgotten. maybe i had them but lost them. who knows. it's useless at this point to gripe and whine over what i'm missing, or what i'm perceiving as missing, because someday soon i hope to regain and recoup and recover.
and my totally bitchy cat has now eaten and made a BIG stinky in the back hallway. so i'm off to do menial work like scooping the poop of felines. which, according to my cat, is the very reason i breathe... (;
Saturday, May 28, 2005
clean sweep
you ever slipped and fell?
hit your ass on the ground SO hard that the wind just gets knocked out of you?
it's been one of those kind of weeks. i'm at the point where everything makes me cry because i am feeling quite hope-less.
but at the same time, i feel a sense of hope that perhaps is just tempered by it being different than the hope i had before.
i think that this is a turning point. a hard point, but a turning point.
to sum up: i've been having health issues for a bit now, mainly "female" issues that will hopefully be addressed on tuesday when i see the doctor. needless to say it's a bit stressful, as a woman, to just know that something isn't right, but not be able to point at it and say, that's the problem. it's internal. it's icky. that's enough.
my uncle is in the hospital, after suffering strokes again. they don't think it's anything right now but a matter of time. it's hard to think of my dad and his brothers minus number 3, but i know that jed would never want to live unless it was a life he wanted to live, and i know his brothers know that. it just is downright depressing--he's suffered through enough in life that death should not be this horrible hurdle, this pain-filled departure. and in the same breath, it's a release, and sometimes, growth is painful.
case in point: my stress number three: thursday dan had pretty much hit the low point in his life. or maybe this year. who knows. at any rate, there were lots of tears and sobbing involved, and it became something more, something that bared emotions and pared them down to the minimum: he needs help. i need help. we need help.
what was once an emotionally healthy relationship is not that any more. it's stemming from so many things, so many different items, that i can't put into words what they are. it's too much. we're both resenting each other, resenting where we are in life, and worst of all: blaming.
i never wanted it to be like this. i didn't realize that it had gotten so awful, for him. or for me, i suppose. i know that life doesn't hand you happiness on a platter; it's just not like that. but it shouldn't be like this either.
we both agree that we want to try. we want things to work. we have issues with trust, but we are both willing to see a counselor and see if there is a hope. i still love dan. i always will; he's a part of my soul, someone who inspires me and makes me want to do better. the problem is, we're both in the same rut--careers are not what we thought we were going to do, which dribbles over into life being not what we wanted. and then it's back to resenting the other person. mindless, endless loop.
i pray that something good can come of this, that perhaps we can take what we started with and make it into something good again, something healthy and something worth being a part of.
i'm very good at sweeping things under the rug. if i don't like where life is going, i hide. i stick my head in the sand and just wait until i think it's "over." in reality, it doesn't work that way. things happen, people interact, and words are spoken. and with or without you, life moves on.
i think that for a long time i've mistaken my own apathy for patience, and my own depression for someone else's. you often see what you want to see, and hear what you want to hear, whether that's good or bad. i thought that things were going along just fine; i could see that dan was depressed, and thought that i was being patient. in reality, we were both depressed, and i was once again being apathetic--if i wait long enough, it will pass.
but it doesn't. it doesn't ever pass. it comes back. it's karma, it's wishful thinking, it's whatever you want to call it. but it won't go away just by wishing it so. when dan said that he would accept help, i was tearily overjoyed. i was so glad, so glad, so glad--because part of me was thinking that was the only way i could ask for help, if he was going to as well.
in retrospect, it's a curious chain of events that leads you to the point we are at, the impasse that we have been at for years, or months, or days. i just am clinging right now to the hope of all hopes that perhaps we have a chance. is it possible that us, that dan and kim, could be over? do i want it to be? no, i don't. of all people i have met, dan is the one who makes me laugh, makes me smile, and understands me the best. he's like a peice of my own soul.
when i think about it, as a whole, i am so overwhelmed that i cannot see straight. i can't deal with all of it. and that's when my head wants to get popped into the ground. that's when i want to hide. usually, it is when i hide. i take myself into the ground, i bury myself in earth, i remove myself from existence because i have this mistaken belief that i am either not worth as much as i am, and that the world can get on just fine without me, or that when i open my eyes and snow white myself awake, the world will have changed and my prince charming, the one i knew when i was awake before, will be miraculously happy.
today i'm going to go over to tish's house for a night of wine and wise, witty women. i'm going to put my head in the sand about a few issues--just to get to tomorrow, and to get to the day after that, and the day after that, when maybe, just maybe, i can ask for help--and days after that when i can get the help i think i might need. maybe find the help that dan and i need.
so send some good energy this way. i'm not as hard up as others, but i'll take whatever is sent. (:
hit your ass on the ground SO hard that the wind just gets knocked out of you?
it's been one of those kind of weeks. i'm at the point where everything makes me cry because i am feeling quite hope-less.
but at the same time, i feel a sense of hope that perhaps is just tempered by it being different than the hope i had before.
i think that this is a turning point. a hard point, but a turning point.
to sum up: i've been having health issues for a bit now, mainly "female" issues that will hopefully be addressed on tuesday when i see the doctor. needless to say it's a bit stressful, as a woman, to just know that something isn't right, but not be able to point at it and say, that's the problem. it's internal. it's icky. that's enough.
my uncle is in the hospital, after suffering strokes again. they don't think it's anything right now but a matter of time. it's hard to think of my dad and his brothers minus number 3, but i know that jed would never want to live unless it was a life he wanted to live, and i know his brothers know that. it just is downright depressing--he's suffered through enough in life that death should not be this horrible hurdle, this pain-filled departure. and in the same breath, it's a release, and sometimes, growth is painful.
case in point: my stress number three: thursday dan had pretty much hit the low point in his life. or maybe this year. who knows. at any rate, there were lots of tears and sobbing involved, and it became something more, something that bared emotions and pared them down to the minimum: he needs help. i need help. we need help.
what was once an emotionally healthy relationship is not that any more. it's stemming from so many things, so many different items, that i can't put into words what they are. it's too much. we're both resenting each other, resenting where we are in life, and worst of all: blaming.
i never wanted it to be like this. i didn't realize that it had gotten so awful, for him. or for me, i suppose. i know that life doesn't hand you happiness on a platter; it's just not like that. but it shouldn't be like this either.
we both agree that we want to try. we want things to work. we have issues with trust, but we are both willing to see a counselor and see if there is a hope. i still love dan. i always will; he's a part of my soul, someone who inspires me and makes me want to do better. the problem is, we're both in the same rut--careers are not what we thought we were going to do, which dribbles over into life being not what we wanted. and then it's back to resenting the other person. mindless, endless loop.
i pray that something good can come of this, that perhaps we can take what we started with and make it into something good again, something healthy and something worth being a part of.
i'm very good at sweeping things under the rug. if i don't like where life is going, i hide. i stick my head in the sand and just wait until i think it's "over." in reality, it doesn't work that way. things happen, people interact, and words are spoken. and with or without you, life moves on.
i think that for a long time i've mistaken my own apathy for patience, and my own depression for someone else's. you often see what you want to see, and hear what you want to hear, whether that's good or bad. i thought that things were going along just fine; i could see that dan was depressed, and thought that i was being patient. in reality, we were both depressed, and i was once again being apathetic--if i wait long enough, it will pass.
but it doesn't. it doesn't ever pass. it comes back. it's karma, it's wishful thinking, it's whatever you want to call it. but it won't go away just by wishing it so. when dan said that he would accept help, i was tearily overjoyed. i was so glad, so glad, so glad--because part of me was thinking that was the only way i could ask for help, if he was going to as well.
in retrospect, it's a curious chain of events that leads you to the point we are at, the impasse that we have been at for years, or months, or days. i just am clinging right now to the hope of all hopes that perhaps we have a chance. is it possible that us, that dan and kim, could be over? do i want it to be? no, i don't. of all people i have met, dan is the one who makes me laugh, makes me smile, and understands me the best. he's like a peice of my own soul.
when i think about it, as a whole, i am so overwhelmed that i cannot see straight. i can't deal with all of it. and that's when my head wants to get popped into the ground. that's when i want to hide. usually, it is when i hide. i take myself into the ground, i bury myself in earth, i remove myself from existence because i have this mistaken belief that i am either not worth as much as i am, and that the world can get on just fine without me, or that when i open my eyes and snow white myself awake, the world will have changed and my prince charming, the one i knew when i was awake before, will be miraculously happy.
today i'm going to go over to tish's house for a night of wine and wise, witty women. i'm going to put my head in the sand about a few issues--just to get to tomorrow, and to get to the day after that, and the day after that, when maybe, just maybe, i can ask for help--and days after that when i can get the help i think i might need. maybe find the help that dan and i need.
so send some good energy this way. i'm not as hard up as others, but i'll take whatever is sent. (:
Tuesday, May 24, 2005
612 pm at work...
still at work. why, you ask? because modem is dead at home and i'm trying to keep up on bills and email in the interim. dan emailed today from the library to let folks know we were down; i'm sure he's disgruntled as the internet is a HUGE source of jobhunting for him.
so dad's out of the hospital as of last night. we got to the hospital at 11; he went in at 12 for surgery, and was out by 115 or so. in recovery for a bit and then we sat around giggling in his recovery room until about 4. home by 415. all in all, quick and easy. he's off this week, and then has only 2 weeks of work left before the big r: RETIREMENT. he's glad it's a short time, but i think mom is more glad. less stress equals happy family. it's going to be SO weird not to have to worry about dad being on call, missing holidays and family events, having time do just enjoy life. i'm so glad for him i could cry right here at my desk.
in other news, my uncle jed is stabilized. he went in last week w/ mini strokes. the man has no luck, but he has a support system that is awe-inspiring. people are praying for him, visiting him in hospital, doing what they can to keep us apprised of the situation (he's in CA and family is in MN). dad and i actually setup a website on sunday night for him at The Caringbridge. VERY simple and just for folks going through health issues, so that we can update as needed.
that is the last thing i need to do tonight before heading home. i'm tired, it's sunny out and i need to get into my car and head out, but i really want to check and see if there are any other updates. i gave dad a tutorial on how to post, and wrote up directions he can email to family and friends who have updates to post as needed, but i want to make sure that people are checking it. yesterday alone we had about 20 hits!!! which is cool. if anyone feels a need to check it out, drop me a msg and i'll email you the site addy. (:
i'm outtie--see ya'll later. (:
so dad's out of the hospital as of last night. we got to the hospital at 11; he went in at 12 for surgery, and was out by 115 or so. in recovery for a bit and then we sat around giggling in his recovery room until about 4. home by 415. all in all, quick and easy. he's off this week, and then has only 2 weeks of work left before the big r: RETIREMENT. he's glad it's a short time, but i think mom is more glad. less stress equals happy family. it's going to be SO weird not to have to worry about dad being on call, missing holidays and family events, having time do just enjoy life. i'm so glad for him i could cry right here at my desk.
in other news, my uncle jed is stabilized. he went in last week w/ mini strokes. the man has no luck, but he has a support system that is awe-inspiring. people are praying for him, visiting him in hospital, doing what they can to keep us apprised of the situation (he's in CA and family is in MN). dad and i actually setup a website on sunday night for him at The Caringbridge. VERY simple and just for folks going through health issues, so that we can update as needed.
that is the last thing i need to do tonight before heading home. i'm tired, it's sunny out and i need to get into my car and head out, but i really want to check and see if there are any other updates. i gave dad a tutorial on how to post, and wrote up directions he can email to family and friends who have updates to post as needed, but i want to make sure that people are checking it. yesterday alone we had about 20 hits!!! which is cool. if anyone feels a need to check it out, drop me a msg and i'll email you the site addy. (:
i'm outtie--see ya'll later. (:
Sunday, May 22, 2005
cats, light sabres, and paintball, oh my!
so my cat should be drawn and quartered. here's why.
friday we got the car packed and drove up to free beer weekend, mikey's offering of free beer, turkey, and a place to pop your tent. it's about a 2.5 hour drive, give or take with road construction. had lots of fun friday, ate the owens' wedding reception leftovers, which were quite tasty, and sat around the fire until quite late drinking the proffered free beer. the beer in question was mikey's home brew, and while lacking in carbonation, was quite tasty all the same.
there was talk of bears, wolves, and deer--none of which but the bear were scary sounding, as it sounds as though they're just not too afraid of humans. eep. so friday we go to bed (in the tent! yay! i love my tent!) nice and toasty warm under the new sleeping bags, and comfy on the air mattress. i can't sleep because i keep having to pee because of the beer. yay beer. and the later it gets, the more paranoid and overtired i get about the freaking bear.
i think i got up about six or seven times to pee. dan should be sainted because i kept waking him up to make sure there was no bear. and all through the night, no bear. i HATE outhouses. outhouses in the dark: fifty times worse. you laugh. i weep. (;
so we all are up and off the land by 830 or so to grab breakfast at the buckthorn in gordon proper (which is about 3 miles east of the cabin, has the greasiest breakfast ever, but is cheap and very appetizing...go figure). after breakfast everyone suits up (which takes about an hour) and by 11 we're all running through 5 acres of land with paintball guns.
that was quite theraputic. and warm. the players in this group keep their guns turned up so that it will leave a welt if you get hit. for the most part, that means lots of padding. cathy even wore a type of body armor vest. i just didn't care. i figured, if you're getting shot you should have it hurt. so i wore jeans and a t-shirt, and over that a thick fleece jacket, which eventually got traded out for a camo jacket. despite the fact that at the moment i can't afford a gun for myself, or camo wear, and borrowed a mask as well (thank heavens, because i got pegged twice in the mask!), and add to that that i didn't hit ANYONE but a plastic bottle, and the fact that my borrowed gun kept bursting paintballs when they were chambered and had to be cleaned out not once, not twice, but three times...i had a literal and figurative blast. can't wait to try my luck again. i'm hoping that by next year i will maybe be able to afford my own gear, instead of borrowing. but you never know. those guys all have way too much gear for one person to use anyway. so we'll see.
like i said, i only got hit twice, in the facemask. then i got hit once in the left boob, and once on the hand; neither left a mark. dan's got a couple welts on his arm, but nothing horrible, and nothing life-threatening. none of the ones that hit me broke open except for the ones on my mask. paintballs are water soluble, and apparently just break down when it rains, so the fact that the forest was decorated with sprays of orange, green, smurfy blue--not a problem. especially with the amount of rain we've been getting lately.
anyway. why is my cat going to die. let's get back to this.
so we showered, not at chrissy and mike's cabin, that's an outdoor and mikey didn't want to have to get it going and cleaned out, but at some free beer weekend folks' place down the road. quite possibly the smallest shower i have ever been in. but a shower all the same. it felt good to get rid of the deet and sweat, and check for ticks. i think i found a total of three wandering around, and then when we got back from showering, a teeny tiny one on my right hand that was determined to be one of the "bad" ticks--the lyme disease carrying fellas. once they start feeding you have to get them to back out--usually the only thing that works is a match. you light the match and blow it out, hold it to their hiney and they freak out and move back. of course, no one had a match (yes, camping without matches--everyone has lighters of some type; mikey was using a propane torch.) so darin picks up the torch and says something about me doing it. i was like, you have GOT to be kidding. so we find a little stick and he holds the torch and i try to get this pin-sized bug to back out. of course the stick, just smoldering and not even burning, just killed it--it was too tiny, and the stick was too big.
at the same time, darin's focused on the tick, and all of a sudden i realize that my other hand it hurting--because the propane torch is burning it. luckily we got it moved in time, and nothing serious happened. i have a small divot on my right hand, where the end of the stick was pushed on the teeny tick and burned not only the tick but also my hand. yay hand.
free beer weekend always has a fried turkey, too--which are amazing, if you ever have the chance to taste one. the oil locks in the turkey, so it's almost like it's steamed on the inside. so tender...and probably horrible for me. but at that point i'd had beer, and too many cookies to count, etc. so free beer weekend was definitely not fat free. but what can you do, other than starve? *sigh*
thunderstorms were supposed to move in last night up by gordon, and no one who was tent camping want to be there for them. so corpse, darin and cathy, and dan and i packed up the tents. eero was sleeping in his jeep and also decided to head home. by about 415 we were on the road, and made it home by 7. got almost everything put away right off the bat--food and supplies, mainly. still have to unpack the duffels but that's not as pressing as getting the cheese cooled. (;
dan slept for a while in the car, driving home. i ended up napping around 8 or so. then at 915 darin, cathy and corpse showed up and we went to the 950 showing of the latest installment in star wars...star wars: revenge of the sith.
it's first of all a foregone conclusion that anakin ends up being darth vader, and that the jedi go into exile. you already know that anakin's wife, padme, is going to have two kids, luke and leia. you're supposed to want to see the film to see the downfall. of the three prequel films, this was the best. but that's not saying much because the first two were schlock in my opinion, and the third was just a bit darker but still schlock. hayden christenson and natalie portman had better chemistry when they were offscreen from each other thinking about each other than they did when they were both in the same room. gag me with a spoon. the emperor, darth sidious, had horrible makeup. they spent a fortune on effects, and we end up with the emperor looking like a cross between whorf from star trek and bram stoker's dracula, as imagined by francis ford coppola. either was better defined and more believable than the dude on screen portraying the baddest of the baddies.
the other bothersome bit was anakin's downfall. it just didn't fit. the whine factor was so far off the screen that i could feel my teeth shaking. he's not an intelligent bad guy, and you can definitely see where luke gets his genetic innate whine. but it doesn't make for good movie making. you don't care enough about the good guy before he turns bad--you just want to laugh and tell him to suck it up. the final light sabre duel between obi-wan and darth vader goes on far too long, and is so fantastic that i dozed off.
could have been the drive or the lack of sleep the previous night. not sure. could have been the movie, too. i'm going to blame it on georgie lucas' horribly written dialogue and action scenes that were just plain old ridiculous. have ONE battle, in ONE place, and call it a day.
oh! oh! oh! and darth vader's helmet. i just about burst out laughing when the put the whole thing on--it was a nice sequence and all, but when the helmet actually got put on, there was a small thump, as if air was compressed out of the area between helmet and skull. it sounded for all the world like tupperware, and all i could think was, did they burp the air out of his helmet. and secondly, was that whole suit manufactured by rubbermaid? cause it would explain a lot...
so after the movie we went to perkins to discuss. home by 2 and in bed shortly thereafter, sleeping happily under covers and in the same building as FLUSH TOILET. it's the little things, really...
at some point in the night the door closes. i think i closed it because shiva was being such a pest. this is around 7, i think. dan hears her scratching and whining and lets her back in. she doesn't bother him; only me. i keep pushing her away, but it was a losing battle. the door had shut again, this time because we had the window open and i'm sure the pressure just pulled it shut. at any rate, she was trapped in the room with us, and hungry to boot--so i woke up by degrees for two hours--too tired to get up and just shut her out of the room, or give her the half a tin of wet food she wanted. (i'm not starving my cat, trust me. she's just a bitch about getting the wet food in addition to the dry food in the a.m.)
thus i am awake. unhappily watching my cat, now stuffed on ill-gotten iams turkey and giblets, watch the birds outside on the patio with unconcealed glee.
i should go shower. dad's having surgery tomorrow and i've got the day off, so i might drive up and see if mom wants company tomorrow, or help getting him home. but i'm not driving up until much later, because i'm sure that after i shower and eat lunch, i'm going to want a nap.
friday we got the car packed and drove up to free beer weekend, mikey's offering of free beer, turkey, and a place to pop your tent. it's about a 2.5 hour drive, give or take with road construction. had lots of fun friday, ate the owens' wedding reception leftovers, which were quite tasty, and sat around the fire until quite late drinking the proffered free beer. the beer in question was mikey's home brew, and while lacking in carbonation, was quite tasty all the same.
there was talk of bears, wolves, and deer--none of which but the bear were scary sounding, as it sounds as though they're just not too afraid of humans. eep. so friday we go to bed (in the tent! yay! i love my tent!) nice and toasty warm under the new sleeping bags, and comfy on the air mattress. i can't sleep because i keep having to pee because of the beer. yay beer. and the later it gets, the more paranoid and overtired i get about the freaking bear.
i think i got up about six or seven times to pee. dan should be sainted because i kept waking him up to make sure there was no bear. and all through the night, no bear. i HATE outhouses. outhouses in the dark: fifty times worse. you laugh. i weep. (;
so we all are up and off the land by 830 or so to grab breakfast at the buckthorn in gordon proper (which is about 3 miles east of the cabin, has the greasiest breakfast ever, but is cheap and very appetizing...go figure). after breakfast everyone suits up (which takes about an hour) and by 11 we're all running through 5 acres of land with paintball guns.
that was quite theraputic. and warm. the players in this group keep their guns turned up so that it will leave a welt if you get hit. for the most part, that means lots of padding. cathy even wore a type of body armor vest. i just didn't care. i figured, if you're getting shot you should have it hurt. so i wore jeans and a t-shirt, and over that a thick fleece jacket, which eventually got traded out for a camo jacket. despite the fact that at the moment i can't afford a gun for myself, or camo wear, and borrowed a mask as well (thank heavens, because i got pegged twice in the mask!), and add to that that i didn't hit ANYONE but a plastic bottle, and the fact that my borrowed gun kept bursting paintballs when they were chambered and had to be cleaned out not once, not twice, but three times...i had a literal and figurative blast. can't wait to try my luck again. i'm hoping that by next year i will maybe be able to afford my own gear, instead of borrowing. but you never know. those guys all have way too much gear for one person to use anyway. so we'll see.
like i said, i only got hit twice, in the facemask. then i got hit once in the left boob, and once on the hand; neither left a mark. dan's got a couple welts on his arm, but nothing horrible, and nothing life-threatening. none of the ones that hit me broke open except for the ones on my mask. paintballs are water soluble, and apparently just break down when it rains, so the fact that the forest was decorated with sprays of orange, green, smurfy blue--not a problem. especially with the amount of rain we've been getting lately.
anyway. why is my cat going to die. let's get back to this.
so we showered, not at chrissy and mike's cabin, that's an outdoor and mikey didn't want to have to get it going and cleaned out, but at some free beer weekend folks' place down the road. quite possibly the smallest shower i have ever been in. but a shower all the same. it felt good to get rid of the deet and sweat, and check for ticks. i think i found a total of three wandering around, and then when we got back from showering, a teeny tiny one on my right hand that was determined to be one of the "bad" ticks--the lyme disease carrying fellas. once they start feeding you have to get them to back out--usually the only thing that works is a match. you light the match and blow it out, hold it to their hiney and they freak out and move back. of course, no one had a match (yes, camping without matches--everyone has lighters of some type; mikey was using a propane torch.) so darin picks up the torch and says something about me doing it. i was like, you have GOT to be kidding. so we find a little stick and he holds the torch and i try to get this pin-sized bug to back out. of course the stick, just smoldering and not even burning, just killed it--it was too tiny, and the stick was too big.
at the same time, darin's focused on the tick, and all of a sudden i realize that my other hand it hurting--because the propane torch is burning it. luckily we got it moved in time, and nothing serious happened. i have a small divot on my right hand, where the end of the stick was pushed on the teeny tick and burned not only the tick but also my hand. yay hand.
free beer weekend always has a fried turkey, too--which are amazing, if you ever have the chance to taste one. the oil locks in the turkey, so it's almost like it's steamed on the inside. so tender...and probably horrible for me. but at that point i'd had beer, and too many cookies to count, etc. so free beer weekend was definitely not fat free. but what can you do, other than starve? *sigh*
thunderstorms were supposed to move in last night up by gordon, and no one who was tent camping want to be there for them. so corpse, darin and cathy, and dan and i packed up the tents. eero was sleeping in his jeep and also decided to head home. by about 415 we were on the road, and made it home by 7. got almost everything put away right off the bat--food and supplies, mainly. still have to unpack the duffels but that's not as pressing as getting the cheese cooled. (;
dan slept for a while in the car, driving home. i ended up napping around 8 or so. then at 915 darin, cathy and corpse showed up and we went to the 950 showing of the latest installment in star wars...star wars: revenge of the sith.
it's first of all a foregone conclusion that anakin ends up being darth vader, and that the jedi go into exile. you already know that anakin's wife, padme, is going to have two kids, luke and leia. you're supposed to want to see the film to see the downfall. of the three prequel films, this was the best. but that's not saying much because the first two were schlock in my opinion, and the third was just a bit darker but still schlock. hayden christenson and natalie portman had better chemistry when they were offscreen from each other thinking about each other than they did when they were both in the same room. gag me with a spoon. the emperor, darth sidious, had horrible makeup. they spent a fortune on effects, and we end up with the emperor looking like a cross between whorf from star trek and bram stoker's dracula, as imagined by francis ford coppola. either was better defined and more believable than the dude on screen portraying the baddest of the baddies.
the other bothersome bit was anakin's downfall. it just didn't fit. the whine factor was so far off the screen that i could feel my teeth shaking. he's not an intelligent bad guy, and you can definitely see where luke gets his genetic innate whine. but it doesn't make for good movie making. you don't care enough about the good guy before he turns bad--you just want to laugh and tell him to suck it up. the final light sabre duel between obi-wan and darth vader goes on far too long, and is so fantastic that i dozed off.
could have been the drive or the lack of sleep the previous night. not sure. could have been the movie, too. i'm going to blame it on georgie lucas' horribly written dialogue and action scenes that were just plain old ridiculous. have ONE battle, in ONE place, and call it a day.
oh! oh! oh! and darth vader's helmet. i just about burst out laughing when the put the whole thing on--it was a nice sequence and all, but when the helmet actually got put on, there was a small thump, as if air was compressed out of the area between helmet and skull. it sounded for all the world like tupperware, and all i could think was, did they burp the air out of his helmet. and secondly, was that whole suit manufactured by rubbermaid? cause it would explain a lot...
so after the movie we went to perkins to discuss. home by 2 and in bed shortly thereafter, sleeping happily under covers and in the same building as FLUSH TOILET. it's the little things, really...
at some point in the night the door closes. i think i closed it because shiva was being such a pest. this is around 7, i think. dan hears her scratching and whining and lets her back in. she doesn't bother him; only me. i keep pushing her away, but it was a losing battle. the door had shut again, this time because we had the window open and i'm sure the pressure just pulled it shut. at any rate, she was trapped in the room with us, and hungry to boot--so i woke up by degrees for two hours--too tired to get up and just shut her out of the room, or give her the half a tin of wet food she wanted. (i'm not starving my cat, trust me. she's just a bitch about getting the wet food in addition to the dry food in the a.m.)
thus i am awake. unhappily watching my cat, now stuffed on ill-gotten iams turkey and giblets, watch the birds outside on the patio with unconcealed glee.
i should go shower. dad's having surgery tomorrow and i've got the day off, so i might drive up and see if mom wants company tomorrow, or help getting him home. but i'm not driving up until much later, because i'm sure that after i shower and eat lunch, i'm going to want a nap.
Tuesday, May 17, 2005
the quickest blog ever
this has to be under five sentences. had a great weekend, wore pink and black striped shirt AND a big pink flower in my hair, wedding was lovely, reception was laid back and relaxing, and sunday we watched shaun of the dead before hitting caribou and dropping serena at the airport. so lots of fun compressed into little time! next weekend we're in gordon wi for free beer weekend, camping and all that fun stuff. and i'm on line five so i'm off to work!!!
Wednesday, May 11, 2005
the fashionista speaketh
so she's not speaking much, but we were on the topic of wedding wear tonight. d and c informed the guests at large that it was casual. but i just cannot see wearing casual wear to a wedding in which the bride and groom are not going to be casually dressed. it just goes against every grain of my inner diva.
i WANT to shop for some strappy shoes. i WANT to get gussied up and flit around, looking nice. and i definitely WANT to look my best because fifteen years from now when we look back in photo format, i do NOT want to look crappy. i don't want to be wearing jeans that make my ass look huge. i don't want to wear shoes that are sloppy. if there's one area of my life in which i enjoy to excercise control, it's my clothing.
the rest of it...meh. whatever. i can live with a dirty house, with cat that poops outside the litterbox, with my bed on the floor. these are all transitory.
but clothing...clothing makes the person.
i had this totally zen moment yesterday at the grocery store. i guess it was actually monday. close enough. anyway. i'm standing in line and the lady in front of me reaches over to take the receipt from the cashier. in the bend of the cashier's arm, i see a scar.
not a big one. nothing life threatening. but a good two inch long, half inch wide scar. the cashier is blonde, and has slightly tanned skin, but the scar is lighter. not new, an old scar. the memory of something that was painful.
it makes me think of flesh, and how transitory it all is. in the end--you become bones, you go back to the earth, you become earth. the flesh and all its memories and sensations, the marvel of nerves knitted together and functioning--this is all forgotten.
that scar stood out to me. it's all passing. it's all a memory, either waiting to be had, or happening now, or already done. printed, set, finished.
all the way out to the car i thought about that scar. today, while we were discussing the merits of wearing clothing and the different levels of clothing, i thought about that scar--about how it would fade, in time. about how the girl whose arm crooked around it--how she probably could go for days without thinking about that scar and how it formed. it becomes a part of you that is so close you cannot see it.
clothing is transitory too. in the end it all falls apart and you're left standing naked. hopefully in a place that cherishes your nudity, and not in a job interview or somesuch that requires a sense of decency. gravity shreds cotton.
i think about the clothing i have. i think about the scars i have. the memories we attach to bodies and the adornments we put on these bodies. i remember the people who go before me--the bog man, the entombed, the people whose living relatives, whose future, packed them into earth with bits and peices of the lives they lead.
are we so attached to materials? i know that i can be. i enjoy them because they remind me of something i cannot quite put words around: immortality. memories are carried and made immortal only by the people who hold them. once you are gone, those immortal memories are gone too, just like the flesh.
but clothing lives on.
upstairs i have my grandfather's belt. it's a story in and of itself--if i remember correctly he did the tooling in the leather, and it's punched over and over by his awl. you can see when he made it, the size of his waist. and then by the time he passed away, how narrow his hips had become. after i'm gone, the memories of why it's punched so many times will also be gone. i can't write down enough on the back of a belt to sum up the soul i have attached to that long strip of leather.
which makes my grandpa and myself and my memories of him--transitory. passing. a breath in time. someone will use that belt in the future and think of it as theirs. they will give it new memories. eventually it will go back to earth too. but it's life will be a bit longer than mine, it's history more varied.
and makes that belt immortal.
so. in that vein. that makes what i wear on saturday quite relevant.
i WANT to shop for some strappy shoes. i WANT to get gussied up and flit around, looking nice. and i definitely WANT to look my best because fifteen years from now when we look back in photo format, i do NOT want to look crappy. i don't want to be wearing jeans that make my ass look huge. i don't want to wear shoes that are sloppy. if there's one area of my life in which i enjoy to excercise control, it's my clothing.
the rest of it...meh. whatever. i can live with a dirty house, with cat that poops outside the litterbox, with my bed on the floor. these are all transitory.
but clothing...clothing makes the person.
i had this totally zen moment yesterday at the grocery store. i guess it was actually monday. close enough. anyway. i'm standing in line and the lady in front of me reaches over to take the receipt from the cashier. in the bend of the cashier's arm, i see a scar.
not a big one. nothing life threatening. but a good two inch long, half inch wide scar. the cashier is blonde, and has slightly tanned skin, but the scar is lighter. not new, an old scar. the memory of something that was painful.
it makes me think of flesh, and how transitory it all is. in the end--you become bones, you go back to the earth, you become earth. the flesh and all its memories and sensations, the marvel of nerves knitted together and functioning--this is all forgotten.
that scar stood out to me. it's all passing. it's all a memory, either waiting to be had, or happening now, or already done. printed, set, finished.
all the way out to the car i thought about that scar. today, while we were discussing the merits of wearing clothing and the different levels of clothing, i thought about that scar--about how it would fade, in time. about how the girl whose arm crooked around it--how she probably could go for days without thinking about that scar and how it formed. it becomes a part of you that is so close you cannot see it.
clothing is transitory too. in the end it all falls apart and you're left standing naked. hopefully in a place that cherishes your nudity, and not in a job interview or somesuch that requires a sense of decency. gravity shreds cotton.
i think about the clothing i have. i think about the scars i have. the memories we attach to bodies and the adornments we put on these bodies. i remember the people who go before me--the bog man, the entombed, the people whose living relatives, whose future, packed them into earth with bits and peices of the lives they lead.
are we so attached to materials? i know that i can be. i enjoy them because they remind me of something i cannot quite put words around: immortality. memories are carried and made immortal only by the people who hold them. once you are gone, those immortal memories are gone too, just like the flesh.
but clothing lives on.
upstairs i have my grandfather's belt. it's a story in and of itself--if i remember correctly he did the tooling in the leather, and it's punched over and over by his awl. you can see when he made it, the size of his waist. and then by the time he passed away, how narrow his hips had become. after i'm gone, the memories of why it's punched so many times will also be gone. i can't write down enough on the back of a belt to sum up the soul i have attached to that long strip of leather.
which makes my grandpa and myself and my memories of him--transitory. passing. a breath in time. someone will use that belt in the future and think of it as theirs. they will give it new memories. eventually it will go back to earth too. but it's life will be a bit longer than mine, it's history more varied.
and makes that belt immortal.
so. in that vein. that makes what i wear on saturday quite relevant.
Saturday, May 07, 2005
rain drops keep falling on my house
just when yesterday gave me hope that it'd be sunny and bright today, it's raining and wep. the upside is that it's sooooooooooooooo green. which is lovely.
last night was fun--dan's games are always fun. the only downside was that we'd stopped on the way over at dq for dinner--and the grease gave me intestinal distress. note to self: no more fast food. oy.
i had this weird dream this morning about my sister beth. i dreamed she took off to go somewhere, and we were all worried and couldn't reach her by phone. so my sister sbw and i got in the car w/ dad and started driving north. (god only knows where we were--it was nowhere familiar.) about halfway to wherever we thought we were going, dad turned into some other man i didn't know, and insisted that we pull the car over and wait out the traffic. we ended up in this place right next to the highway that had this little hill that was supposed to have been something to someone at some time--maybe like an indian mound or something. it was a dream, okay? (; i climbed the path to the top and looked out over the freeway, and across 4 lanes of traffic, in the ditch going south, there was beth. i yelled until my lungs ached and she looked over, grabbed a bag out of the car, and ran over. she was so surprised to see us there--as if we would have left her behind--and sara, too. the man who wasn't dad turned into dad again and then we had to go through this house and empty it out. i woke up at one point because the phone was ringing, and went back to the dream to finish it--my uncle jed was telling me that i had to turn off this television but i couldn't figure out how, and then mom came in and just unplugged it. i woke up then and came downstairs, only to find that the ringing phone of a few minutes before was none other than my sister beth. weird.
so today nothing much is on the docket. i have to find out how much my car will cost to get the brake pads fixed (bianca's in the shop now) and then go retrieve it. d and c were supposed to call if they needed help w/ stuff at the house today; i know they had things planned for outside but w/ the rain...who knows. we need to clean up the house in prep for serena's visit next weekend too. so we'll see. there are things to be done. but perhaps this weekend will be from inside the house, where there's no rain. (;
last night was fun--dan's games are always fun. the only downside was that we'd stopped on the way over at dq for dinner--and the grease gave me intestinal distress. note to self: no more fast food. oy.
i had this weird dream this morning about my sister beth. i dreamed she took off to go somewhere, and we were all worried and couldn't reach her by phone. so my sister sbw and i got in the car w/ dad and started driving north. (god only knows where we were--it was nowhere familiar.) about halfway to wherever we thought we were going, dad turned into some other man i didn't know, and insisted that we pull the car over and wait out the traffic. we ended up in this place right next to the highway that had this little hill that was supposed to have been something to someone at some time--maybe like an indian mound or something. it was a dream, okay? (; i climbed the path to the top and looked out over the freeway, and across 4 lanes of traffic, in the ditch going south, there was beth. i yelled until my lungs ached and she looked over, grabbed a bag out of the car, and ran over. she was so surprised to see us there--as if we would have left her behind--and sara, too. the man who wasn't dad turned into dad again and then we had to go through this house and empty it out. i woke up at one point because the phone was ringing, and went back to the dream to finish it--my uncle jed was telling me that i had to turn off this television but i couldn't figure out how, and then mom came in and just unplugged it. i woke up then and came downstairs, only to find that the ringing phone of a few minutes before was none other than my sister beth. weird.
so today nothing much is on the docket. i have to find out how much my car will cost to get the brake pads fixed (bianca's in the shop now) and then go retrieve it. d and c were supposed to call if they needed help w/ stuff at the house today; i know they had things planned for outside but w/ the rain...who knows. we need to clean up the house in prep for serena's visit next weekend too. so we'll see. there are things to be done. but perhaps this weekend will be from inside the house, where there's no rain. (;
Wednesday, May 04, 2005
at this moment
i should be showered, i should be primped and i should be heading out the door. but in typical kim fashion, it's 826 and i'm in my pajamas sitting downstairs typing in my blog. i'm going to be late for work and i just. don't. care. hee hee hee.
was up late last night finishing charlaine harris' newest, dead as a doornail--which rocked! loved it. need to read them all again because they're just so nice and vampy. yummy books. then i ditzed round w/ dan on world of warcrack for a while, chatted w/ serena, and then read a few chapters of georgette heyers' the masqueraders before falling asleep. there was some poem writing in there too--i'll have to share it eventually because i really liked what i'd written last night. course the light of day may extinguish that. you never know.
today looks like it's going to be nice, too. the grass is all green and the sky's a happy blue. i'm practicing that buddhist ideal of living in the present--trying to not consider too much yesterday or today or tomorrow, but instead, just right now. but i think i better consider it from inside the shower stall. late might be my middle name but a paycheck's nice too. (;
was up late last night finishing charlaine harris' newest, dead as a doornail--which rocked! loved it. need to read them all again because they're just so nice and vampy. yummy books. then i ditzed round w/ dan on world of warcrack for a while, chatted w/ serena, and then read a few chapters of georgette heyers' the masqueraders before falling asleep. there was some poem writing in there too--i'll have to share it eventually because i really liked what i'd written last night. course the light of day may extinguish that. you never know.
today looks like it's going to be nice, too. the grass is all green and the sky's a happy blue. i'm practicing that buddhist ideal of living in the present--trying to not consider too much yesterday or today or tomorrow, but instead, just right now. but i think i better consider it from inside the shower stall. late might be my middle name but a paycheck's nice too. (;
Friday, April 29, 2005
action/inaction
i have this obsession with fear. you could call me a fraidy-cat. i know that in the end, things will work out. but in the interim, while waiting, i get nervous. i quake internally. i shut down.
it's usually not the something i can put my finger on; it's something i cannot locate. yesterday, when dan asked me what i wanted to do, i wanted to watch a movie. that is the epitome of inaction for me--sitting and watching. but i could think of nothing else i wanted to do. everything seems insurmountable right now--putting away clothing is too large a job to complete, cleaning the grill is mt everest. i have to get these things done. i need to pay rent. i need to DO something, some chore that will wake up the sleeping inner dragon and make me move.
i often feel like the deer in headlights. something shines over me, some unnameable or even familiar fear, and i freeze. i wait for it to pass and shine on some other tree, some other beastie, because once i'm in the dark again, i'm safe. it's just that those seconds stretch on for me into far too much time. inaction becomes a way of life, i adapt and it's okay to not do anything.
which goes against the grain of my existence. my mom never sits down unless she is done with everything; i have the same drive to finish things before i rest, but i'm at this point where i feel as if i will never be done with anything. so why bother? i don't have the equipment together to climb the mountain, so i better just stay at base camp.
it's not something anyone else can change, either. it's something i have to change. i've done it before. it's like dragging a car out of a coke can--you just keep pulling and pulling and then the fear is in the light of day and it's not as awful as i imagine it is, and i can handle it, and i can move again.
so don't mind me at the moment. i'm just trying to de-hibernate. melt. thaw. once the light moves on, i'll be fine. my house will be clean, my life will be un-stuck; just give me the gift of time.
it's usually not the something i can put my finger on; it's something i cannot locate. yesterday, when dan asked me what i wanted to do, i wanted to watch a movie. that is the epitome of inaction for me--sitting and watching. but i could think of nothing else i wanted to do. everything seems insurmountable right now--putting away clothing is too large a job to complete, cleaning the grill is mt everest. i have to get these things done. i need to pay rent. i need to DO something, some chore that will wake up the sleeping inner dragon and make me move.
i often feel like the deer in headlights. something shines over me, some unnameable or even familiar fear, and i freeze. i wait for it to pass and shine on some other tree, some other beastie, because once i'm in the dark again, i'm safe. it's just that those seconds stretch on for me into far too much time. inaction becomes a way of life, i adapt and it's okay to not do anything.
which goes against the grain of my existence. my mom never sits down unless she is done with everything; i have the same drive to finish things before i rest, but i'm at this point where i feel as if i will never be done with anything. so why bother? i don't have the equipment together to climb the mountain, so i better just stay at base camp.
it's not something anyone else can change, either. it's something i have to change. i've done it before. it's like dragging a car out of a coke can--you just keep pulling and pulling and then the fear is in the light of day and it's not as awful as i imagine it is, and i can handle it, and i can move again.
so don't mind me at the moment. i'm just trying to de-hibernate. melt. thaw. once the light moves on, i'll be fine. my house will be clean, my life will be un-stuck; just give me the gift of time.
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