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Category Archives: Let’s try this again

Don’t hate me because I love yarn

I am über proud of my Granny Skillz. And by ‘Granny Skillz’ I mean my abilities to knit and crochet. I don’t care that I’m 30 and love knitting, I happen to greatly enjoy sentient activities and this one allows me to at least FEEL productive while I use as few muscles as possible. It’s quite remarkable, actually. You can spend hours moving little more than your arms from the elbows down and yet you can create these beautiful, imaginative items that are often made out of extremely long, but single pieces of yarn, all woven together in pretty little patterns. You can create flowers (seriously, you can, I can’t, yet), scarves, socks, headbands or little sock like things for your kindle to keep them from getting banged up in your purse since you carry it everywhere. Yeah, that was my first crochet project – it left some things to be desired, i.e. I MUST learn how to make prettier end stitches before moving forward with much else – and it is complete, for all intents and purposes, and it’s not a bad go for the first time I’ve crocheted, either, so I’m cool with it. Not gonna sell the pattern for profit, but I can consider it a success.

Anyone that KNOWS how to knit and/or crochet will tell you how EEEAASSSYYY it is. And I will admit to having done such a thing myself, but let me tell you this: that is bullshit. It’s so freaking hard to learn one or the other and it’s even harder to know one, and try to learn the other. They are similar, but so VERY different and it’s like trying to teach a lefty how to cut construction paper snowflakes with righty scissors. It’s as difficult as trying to explain the color blue to someone who was born blind. Ok, maybe that’s an exaggeration, but I was feeling rambly and trying to make that work…anyway, it definitely took me a few hours of patient one on one teaching to learn the pattern and movements of crochet and I still have some cleaning up to do of my stitches but overall, I think I’ve got the basics down – half shells, double crochet, single crochet, and chains – not too shabby. I remember when I started knitting, I didn’t realize that there was a front, and a back to the piece of work – I thought it somehow magically knew that on its own or something, or perhaps I just didn’t imagine it made a difference as I expected patterns to follow my method, not the proper one. Truly, until a few years ago, I knew how to knit, but I had been doing it all wrong. As soon as you recognize a front and a back, the patterns make SO much more sense and you can actually create something that looks like the picture – I HATE it when stuff I make doesn’t end up looking like the picture, but that’s an entirely different rant – and people then look at what you’ve knitted and tell you how beautiful it is and ooh and ahh at it while they touch it and rub it against their faces… and then you say, Oh, it was EASY.

 

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Some things change, some things stay the same

It’s been several years now since it started, (somewhere between 4 and 6, I honestly stopped paying attention) and yet I’m still about to write this next sentence: My therapist has suggested that I start blogging again. It helps to solidify the neuro pathways that I’ve rediscovered and it helps to emphasize the reasons behind why I’ve made the choices that I’ve made, and why I used to think that I only deserved [X] amount of anything – happiness, love, kindness, friendship, you name it. I almost feel like I should create an entirely new blog as I am not the same mentally nor emotionally as I was when I started this, or even the last time I posted, and its only natural to want a fresh start after such change.

My ‘perception filter’, as my therapist calls it, is still distorted to a point, but I’ve managed to get the blame game down to a dull roar and I can now see where my deep-seated feelings of guilt, worry and my overwhelming fear of disappointing others comes from. The knowledge alone has opened so many doors in my head that I feel like my brain is a freaking mansion as opposed to a cardboard box. A cardboard box that was once shared with evil, spiteful rats, gnawing on whatever was left of my well-being without regard.

Thanks to my amazing therapist and my own want to learn and grow, I am excruciatingly happy today. I am content with who I am, and I am content if there are people out there who don’t like that, or me. I can say with confidence that, emotionally, there isn’t much I can’t handle now, and I have more confidence and trust in myself now than I’ve had in a long time. Life is good and I look forward to each day with a genuine smile and the outlook that great things are on the horizon. After several years of dating, trying to find the man who fit into my needs and wants while I fit into his, I have found one who is the closest I could ever hope for, and I know that were it not for my therapist and the progress that I’ve made personally, he would not be in my life at this time, and that is the best motivation to continue to grow that a girl could EVER ask for.

I hope to continue to explore myself and what makes me tick, and I hope that I can begin to start sharing my growth again via writing, as it truly is something that I enjoy and I denied myself enjoyment for too long. I saw something via one of those witty websites the other day, a meme of an EKG heart rate; underneath it stated “If life didn’t have ups and downs, you’d be dead.” Well spoken and a good reminder that the bad things that happen don’t have to define who you are or what you do – YOU make those choices and only you can take back the control and turn life into what you want it to be. Thanks be to my therapist for helping me learn that lesson.

 

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Predictable

I had the first conversation in probably 6 months with my ex last night. All told, it was about 5 minutes or less because I forced it to end, but it was still probably the hardest thing I did all day. If it isn’t inherently obvious, I still have a lot of unresolved issues with the end of my last relationship. From my standpoint, the relationship did not end because there was a lack of love for him; in fact, even today, I still love him in a very real capacity, somewhere along the way though, I believe he lost his love for me. And the where and the when is what I feel I need to know – that is what I feel prevents me from being able to let go of what was, and try to move into regaining some sort of friendship with him. At least that’s what I tell myself. Although beings that I’m STILL in therapy, still discussing the loss and anger that I feel over ex boyfriends and the lack of emotion my family as a whole shares, which is why I’ve always felt I should stifle my emotions down, thus causing my issues with NEEDING someone to vocally and physically need and want me in order to feel useful and worthwhile, deducing the emotional relevance of situations such as this are not my forte. That sentence took me 6 months to learn and I’m still not able to say it out loud.

We had a nice, albeit brief, conversation and short exchange of texts last night, and I will admit that it felt good. It was nice to hear his voice, and to be able to genuinely wish him well and to let him know that I DO miss him. I miss his unique sense of humor that never failed to make me laugh or at least look at him sideways, I miss ‘us’ and the fun we used to have a long time ago when we were together, and I mostly miss the friendship that we had, all those years ago. It seems like its been an eternity, things have changed so much, and I don’t know if we’ll ever get back to where we were…but it was nice to have the opportunity to say hello.

If *YOU* read this, please know that I understand I had plenty to do with the way things ended. I apologize for the bullshit that I put you through – looking back at this point, I can see how difficult things must have been at times. Thank you for sticking through as long as you did. I don’t know where exactly it was that you decided it was over in your mind, but I will say that it hurt me more to have you at arm’s length than it did to have you maintain your “radio silence” in another state. Funny how emotions work, isn’t it? I am doing OK – emotionally and mentally – as I am in a much better place than when we last talked. I’m obviously still working through things, as I told you last night, but it’s only because you meant so damn much to me, on so many levels, for years…a friendship with you is better than never speaking to you again, but last night illustrated to me that it can also still hurt MORE than never speaking to you again. As Ani said “Baby, you’re right as rain about the benefits / But you might be wrong about the costs.” Heh, I remember when you introduced me to that song…

Soon, I hope the benefit will outweigh the cost…….soon.

 

Intrinsic: (adj) belonging to a thing by its very nature

Tonight, I spent a few hours with my mother and step father as I was in need of some human interaction. They really are great parents and they’ve given me more opportunities than most people are ever afforded. Because of my awesome upbringing, I have grown up to be very independent and opinionated and my love of tattoos is one of the ways I express myself.

As I was waiting for dinner to finish grilling tonight, my mom suddenly recalled my venture from last night and looked at me and said “Well, I guess I might as well see it.” So I pulled my sweater off of my left arm and turned to show her my new ink. After she looked at it for a moment, she started smiling and says “That’s actually pretty cute!” Seconds later, my step father walks in from the grill and mom asks him if he wants to see it. He, unlike my mother, was less than interested in my recent addition, and his reaction was to roll his eyes and indicate how he feels tattoos “deface” a body. All this time, I expected my mother to be the one who freaked out, or be the one who had nothing good to say, instead, it was my step father! Imagine my surprise.

The reason I can say that they are still awesome parents, despite their lack of support when it comes to permanent displays on my skin, is because the rest of our evening went back to the conversation and laughing that we had been experiencing prior. They accept me and the decisions I make, although they may not whole-heartedly agree with me. They are honest and forthright when I do things they disagree with, but they also realize I’m not causing anyone harm, and in the grand scheme of things, I could be a criminal or a sociopath, or something much worse and they know that. They allow me to be who I am without trying to change me. They accept my decisions and opinions, just as I accept theirs and although we sometimes disagree, we still love each other and everyone is accepted as they are. That true love, that love without strings attached or any need to change who I am, or what I do, is what makes them such wonderful people. In fact, if I were to find any fault with the way that I was raised whatsoever, it would be that they love me so openly, so innately, so fully, that I expect the same in return from a partner. I’m learning that I cannot make someone love me the way I expect to be loved, if they were never provided that, themselves, as we can only love as deeply as we are loved. As my new tat is meant to remind me, you can’t fix problems with tools you don’t have.

 

If a bullfrog had wings, he wouldn’t bump his ass

Tomorrow, after work, I am going to get fresh ink tattooed into my flesh. The appointment had been set for weeks now, but in light of recent events, there is a new level of excitement for me. I love tattoos – I think they are beautiful and a true expression of a person and I think far too many people see a tat and incorrectly assume that the wearer is a member of Hells Angels, or a unable to hold a job. However,  Each tattoo holds a meaning and a memory to the owner and is a symbol of artistic ability and true passion to the tattoo artist.

My mother’s father passed away almost 2 decades ago, but he continues to live on due to both memories from my childhood, and all the wonderful and funny stories my mom still talks about to this day. He was a witty man, intelligent, kind enough to help out anyone who asked and balanced that with being a party hound. He wrecked more cars than I have and he threw more golf clubs into water hazards than golf balls but no one ever had a bad thing to say about him in life or death. He and my grandmother had 50 years of a happy, respectful and loving marriage and it is their relationship that I hope to one day mimic in my own life.

Each tattoo I get is symbolic for me, as it is for all who get tattoos, and I spent 2 1/2 years trying to decide on what I was going to next have permanently marked on my person. It was a memory spurred by my mother of something that my grandfather used to say that finally caused the energy efficient light bulb to burn. His pearl of wisdom was regarding how there are just some things in life that we can’t do anything about. We are born into our families with no say, we are blessed with a certain beauty and intelligence and we develop a true and honest personality over time, if we are self aware enough to pay attention. We also have to accept ourselves for what we are, and no matter how many “if’s” you throw out in defense of your wants, you just have to learn to roll with what life gives you. Despite how much we CAN control in life, there are plenty of things that we just have to accept As-Is; learning to make the best of those situations is often the only choice we have.

 

*Think AC/DC* I’m back in TYE DYYYYYYE!!

Today I worked from home. Mostly because my job is awesome, but also mostly because it was icy and snowy out and I reverted back to 6th grade where snow meant no school, a wet butt and hot chocolate in front of the fireplace. And as I sit here, trying to find the inspiration that I lost over 6 months ago, I realized that my awesome job and my Pavlovian response to the white stuff have been part of what’s kept me from leaving my immediate property since Saturday afternoon. It’s Wednesday. And added to THAT insanity is the repressed anger that I’m currently feeling towards the kids that came by earlier today to shovel my sidewalk, who forgot to mention that their service was prorated based on the amount of cash that they were given to do it. Apparently, $10 bucks buys you 3/4 of a shoveled sidewalk. And even stranger than my green/blue plaid pant and tye dye shirt attire is the fact that I am totally ok with ALL of that.

I expressed my concern of possibly being labeled as a shut-in the same way any normal woman in her mid to late 20’s does – via gmail and facebook status updates, of course! – and it was my dear Walter who summed it all up into a neat little package for me:

It doesn’t make you a shut in. It’s totally ok that you never leave your house, get mad at the neighborhood kids, and are outnumbered by animals 4 to 1.

Ouch. Sometimes the truth hurts. But in a seriously hysterical way. This is my life, you CAN’T make this shit up.

 

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New and exciting things to obsess about

I’ve not been in a good place, mentally, the last couple of days. Overall, I’m feeling rather down and weepy and emotional and I’m trying to blame it on PMS and trying to quit smoking and stress and yet, I know the reality of it is….ME.  It can be summed up in 7 words by quoting a local hero, Mary Prankster, You’re not my problem. I’m my problem. Part of my depression is definitely due to the fact that my fantastically awesome boyfriend is out of town for the second week in a row and I am missing him something fierce even though he is supremely awesome at keeping my worries at bay. But the proverbial icing on the cake is my ability to DWELL on shit. Although I have this really loud, booming voice of logic which tells me I have no control over these things, and that everything happens for a reason, I just can’t shake off my crazy today.

I’m finding most of my remorse coming from the fact that in the last 4 months, I have lost 4 people who I had considered good friends, all for reasons unbeknownst to me. The way all 4 dissolution’s manifested was by them just closing me out of their lives. I’ve spent a lot of nights trying to make sense of WHY these women would ever have felt the need to block me out, and I gotta tell ya that aside from migraines, I’ve come up with nothing. One so-called friend has seemingly dropped me due to a guy, although I’m sure she would tell you otherwise, and despite the fact that she promised to never let such an atrocity happen, that is the best explanation I have come up with. Another is remaining loyal to the person she should, and although there is a huge level of discomfort around her, I knew it would play out this way, so I should have been better prepared. The third has been through some pretty trying times herself in the last few months, and for a while, I tried to blame it on that. But I can only fool myself for so long. And the 4th? Well, I don’t think I ever really meant anything to the 4th, I was someone to make her feel better about herself, and when I stopped being that person, my use had run out. Honestly though, she’s the least of my concerns.

I suppose that a lot of my obsession with the losses of these “friends” is because I typically make and maintain only the best of friends. Hell, most of the people I call my best friends today have been in my life for no less than 12 years. Only 2 are new additions and yet have managed to make our few years of friendship feel like a lifetime – and one of them happens to be my boyfriend. In the scheme of things, I’ve always valued friendships the most out of all things in life, and I believe more in quality as oppose to quantity, but I never thought that I would have misjudged the state of any relationship to the extent of which I have with these 4 women. And the worst part about it all is that I DON’T UNDERSTAND WHAT HAPPENED.

Today was not a good day (at 7:30 this evening I’ve already taken 2 Tylenol PM in a vain attempt to sleep off the remaining melancholy), Sunday was worse, but hopefully tomorrow will be better. Both my mom and my therapist have given me the most compromising, and subsequently, best, advice ever: Allow myself time to dwell, but only for a finite period. And once that pre-established amount of time has passed…it’s time to move on.

As difficult as this has been for me, I don’t really hold anything against any of these women. I try to make myself feel better about the situation by recognizing that everyone has a season – and my season with these 4 women must have already passed. I would welcome most of them back into my life, but I would probably always hold them at a distance, so things dissolving as they have is probably the best way for this all to have gone down. I’m saddened by the losses, but I have gained a lot in my life in the last few months as well, and I wouldn’t forgo any of it for anyone; my seasons are changing.

To everything turn, turn, turn…

 

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