Everything comes back around

I have officially managed to procrastinate on my Therapy Homework for almost the entire 2 weeks that I had between appointments. The jury is still out on whether that is an acceptable thing…or NOT. Fortunately, I’m not the one making THAT decision, since I suck at making decisions ANYWAY. And if there is one less thing that I HAVE to worry about in life, I am thankful for whatever break I may get.

Unfortunately, therapy doesn’t really GIVE me a break. I’m always thinking about my past now, and I’m always trying to psycho-analyze why I think the things I think. It’s rather similar to to having a discussion on why gay people and black people are still, in fact, PEOPLE with my father. I might as well save my breath, I’ll need it when I’m 80. So the latest thing that I have to ponder over is why I had a rather detailed dream about one of my high school boyfriends last night. I haven’t really thought about JM for, oh, I dunno, 6 or 8 years, but for some reason last night, I had a present day dream about him. Since I’m a retard and didn’t write it down immediately, as was suggested to me, and I kick myself for this as I so rarely remember my dreams anyway, I can only recall certain key aspects of it at this point. For example, we were together, and I think in that sense. As in, together together and we were here, at my home, and we were just hanging out, talking. Talking about general randomness like how our respective days were and how so and so was creating drama at work and how the dogs had managed to reek havoc on the kitchen in our absence and how I needed to get some laundry done. To be honest, I don’t really remember what it was that he was doing for a living, but I do distinctly recall that I was in the same job that I currently am. Why I dreamt of JM all night, and why, 8 years later he would even CROSS MY MIND is beyond me, and so you can bet your ass that I’ll walk into therapy next session insisting upon answers. And my wonderful therapist will probably look at me and go “Well, is there some sort of unfinished business with him?” And I will of COURSE say “Hmmm. I don’t THINK so.” And then we will dive into these horrible EMDR therapy sessions (and by “horrible” I mean absolutely fantastic) and I will eventually come up with some tangent which will lead me to WHY I dreamt of JM last night and then I will be able to move past it, without so much as another thought. Yeah, I never claimed that ANY of it would make sense. Welcome to my life.

And then she’ll ask me about my homework – and I’ll have to admit that I showed up 20 minutes early to produce THIS! and I’ll hand her a post it note that I found at the bottom of my purse while I was in the waiting room, covered with furious scribbles of words and incoherent sentences. Afterall, why would my physical life be any different than my emotional one? It’s all just gibberish under guise of intelligent thought. She’ll then go to work translating what rounded and not religious FAITH and universal and PEACE have to do with my topic and why it is that I struggle so damn hard to fulfill those medial aspects in my life. And she’ll explain to me why I need to have a better sense of self worth, and how I am an “interesting” case for her because I walk in there with a smile and joke about all the hardest things in my life. She’ll realize that I laugh because the other choice is just unacceptable. No one ever got anything accomplished by crying about it. Then she’ll ask me why I think that, and I’ll say “Hmmm. I don’t know.”

Maybe every relationship that I have ever been in has been a failure, maybe every man that I’ve ever been attracted to has had nothing to offer me (sans one in particular) and maybe, just MAYBE I seek relationships like that out so as to avoid all my own shit. I like to think that I am changing that behavior, I like to think that THIS TIME, I really do FEEL what I feel. I like to think that I know what love is. Hmmm…It’s a known fact that everyone is a work in progress. It’s seriously slow going, and I haven’t gotten very far, but I know that every realization is a step. And every step, brings me closer to the person that I know is in there somewhere – and is HAPPY. So, dear therapist. may I present MY HOMEWORK!

I realize that GOOD relationships should include, but are not limited to the following: sharing, equality and having that feeling in the pit of your stomach when you are looking forward to seeing someone in particular where you teeter totter between nausea and excitement. They should make you feel like MORE of a person, instead of less. There should be commitment and no resentment. Never wavering trust in the other, never ending understanding and never compromising compromises. Respect and regard should be common place while insults and frustration should be strangers. Each would need time to themselves, whether it to be out with the girls for dinner and some wine, or out with the guys for some kind of manly body-odor-inducing activity, and should not be afraid to ask for it. And yet each should find time for the other. Dinner, a movie, a massage…simple things often times mean the most. I would expect peace and assistance. Yes I made dinner, but would you be so kind as to HELP clean up? There should be brutal honesty for all the right reasons and discussion about all the wrong ones. It’s never safe to assume that you know outright what the other is thinking. I guess, in the end, a good relationship is everything that none of mine have ever been…and everything that I want them to become.

Maybe that was why I was dreaming of JM last night? I mean, there was never any drama with him. He always wanted to do whatever I wanted to do, unless he didn’t. And that was ok when that happened. He held my hand in the hallway, he liked to spend time with me after school and on the weekends unless he was out with his friends. He was the least effed in the head, to the best of my recollection, and maybe those high school gifts of stuffed animals and notes in my locker, and him driving all the way out to where my parents lived just to spend a couple hours together and letting me borrow ANY cd I wanted, even though I sucked at giving them back, was because he really liked ME? Not how I loaned him money, or let him crash on my couch. Or how I was his emotional pillar or because he knew that I’d bail him out of jail every time… Maybe that juvenile relationship was the closest to “normal” that I ever experienced and THAT’S why I’m dreaming about him NOW?! Maybe it was meant to be, in some kind of weird, sub conscious EMDR induced partial dementia, an epiphany that I AM a good person, and that there will ALWAYS be someone who accepts me for me, so I might as well get on with it and ACCEPT MYSELF?! Hmmm, I don’t know.

 

Obsessive Lyrical Psychoanalysis

I would like preface this post with a warning:

*Begin Post Warning* Included in this post is a lot of self acrimonious behaviour and thoughts. If you are just going to fault me for being depressed or give me a lecture about how “everything always works out,” please, I beseech you, don’t bother reading on as I do not want to hear it. If you would like to read my fucked up thoughts without passing any judgement upon me, do feel free. Thank you. *End Post Warning*

By nature, I am a dweller. I worry myself sick, literally, about things. Every and anything that there is to worry about, I worry about; did my friends make it home safely from my house? Another who is in Afghanistan right now, when will he be going home? I dwell on whether or not I’m going to die alone and if some of my friends are actually the “true” friends that I thought they were and shouldn’t be told to fuck off. I obsess about the weather in winter because I hate to drive in ice and snow. I worry about the humidity in the summer because I don’t always turn my air on and when I don’t, I think my dogs might be suffocating. I have had stomach ulcers, migraines, depression and various other maladies which could all be directly related to situations which I obsessed over. Many are due to my ex and his exploits, but like any good codependent, once I no longer had him to worry and obsess over, I found another, and another, and another.

When it comes to men, if I didn’t have bad luck, I’d have no luck at all. I’ve considered switching teams, but after copious amounts of considerate thought, I cannot make myself be attracted to women in that way. Besides, I hear that we as a gender are harder to deal with than men, anyway. I considered joining a convent as well, but as one friend pointed out to me previously, my gratuitous cussing, my less than 100% devotion to “God” as catholics see Him and compulsive love of Led Zeppelin would probably be frowned upon by the nuns. So at this point, mostly due to a lack of options as opposed to an epiphany, I have decided to let it all be. If I end up as the neighborhood crazy lady that no one has seen in public for the last decade and with a house full of cats, so be it. If I end up moving to New Zealand with my dear Walter to raise Alpacas and Wallabies as planned, even better. But if I do not, I promise myself that I will take it all as it comes, whatever “it” may be, without obsessing. Eventually, it gets to a point where it hurts to much to continue following my normal, self abusive path. How many nights can you cry yourself to sleep over someone before you realize that your tears are more out of pity for yourself, than they are in longing over him? It’s not fair to me, or anyone else, to live for the what could be’s instead of the what is.

Today, I vow to begin reading my self-help books again. I might even go back to therapy some day, as recently suggested. I vow to stop trying to make things happen, and just to allow them. Even if they don’t. I promise myself to stop being miserable with what I don’t have and instead, get out of my own head and be thankful for what I do.

Ben Harper’s Walk Away was in my head when I woke up today. I think it’s befitting.

Oh no- here comes that sun again.
And that means another day without you my friend.
And it hurts me to look into the mirror at myself.
And it hurts even more to have to be with somebody else.

And it’s so hard to do and so easy to say.
But sometimes – sometimes,
you just have to walk away – walk away.

With so many people to love in my life, why do I worry about one?
But you put the happy in my ness, you put the good times into my fun.

And it’s so hard to do and so easy to say.
But sometimes – sometimes,
you just have to walk away – walk away and head for the door.

We’ve tried the goodbye so many days.
We walk in the same direction so that we could never stray.
They say if you love somebody than you have got to set them free,
but I would rather be locked to you than live in this pain and misery.
They say time will make all this go away,
but it’s time that has taken my tomorrows and turned them into yesterdays.
And once again that rising sun is droppin’ on down
And once again, you my friend, are nowhere to be found.

And it’s so hard to do and so easy to say.
But sometimes, sometimes you just have to walk away, walk away and head for the door.
You just walk away – walk away – walk away.
You just walk away, walk on, turn and head for the door.

 

Lyrical Psych – 101

“I miss you, too,” you whispered as you held me tight.

What the fuck does that mean, you ass?? 

I’m sorry, but I wasn’t able to watch you walk away from me. Again. Memories are a bitch.

Ben Folds with Selfless, Cold and Composed

I said what you wanted to hear
And what I wanted to say
So I will take it back
Are all the dishes in tact
Let them be broken

It’s easy to be
Easy and free
When it doesn’t mean anything
You remain
Selfless, cold and composed

You’ve done me no
Favor to call and be nice
Telling me I
Can take anything I like
Your don’t owe me to be so polite
You’ve done no wrong
You’ve done no wrong
Get out of my sight

It’s easy to be
Easy and free
When it doesn’t mean anything
To remain
Selfless, cold and composed

Come on baby
Now throw me a right to the chin
Don’t just stare like you never cared
I know you did
You just smiled
Like a bank teller
Telling me blankly, have a nice life

Come on baby
Throw me a right to the chin
Just one sign
That could show me that you give a shit
But you just smile politely
And I grow weaker and I …

Said what you wanted to hear
And what I wanted to say
So I will take it back

It’s easy to be
Easy and free
When it doesn’t mean anything
When it doesn’t mean anything
You can take anything
So selfless, cold and composed

 

Save the Schmuck!

My nugget of joy:

Mel Brooks’ campaign to save the word “Schmuck.”

 

Musical Torture

I am in rare form today. Pissed off, annoyed and generally aggravated with life and all those inhabiting the little bubble which surrounds me. I can taste my anger, I can smell it seeping from my pores like sweat. It tastes as vicious as it sounds and the smell is that of decay. My inner being has atrophied into a miserable, shriveled pile of hate and disgust. I regret that I feel this way; I regret that I have allowed people, who do not maintain the same moral thread as I, to seep into my life. These people suck all that is good and genuine out of me only to then reguritate their angst and afflictions back into my core. I am eaten up such soridness that I have become a despicable, foul corpse of my former being.

The matter at hand happens to be my inability to keep others at bay. I let everyone inside and I lower boundaries and expect that the people whom I donate so much of myself to, would treat me the same. I am too often sadly disappointed. I end up deflated and get nothing in return, barely even gratitude is expressed. I’m essentially taken advantage of by those I considered my friends. And to be quite honest, I happen to be feeling quite a bit overwhelmed by it all, as of late.

Yet, despite my vociferous manner of expression, I realize that this, too, shall pass. I know that I have many demons to fight and I know that it will be a long, uphill battle. I know that one day, I won’t have to get so upset at the pettiness of others, as I will be secure enough with myself to just accept them as they are. Right now though, I just fuckin’ wanna be angry; I wanna spit fire with my newly fissured tongue. I wanna punch my pillow and jump up and down in a hissy fit to rival my friend’s 4 year old daughter. I want to bury my head in the sand and never come up for air.

 I started this post knowing I wanted to say something biting and that I wanted a song to grasp that. I needed something that would reproduce the whole fucked-up literary discourse of my mind. I knew what I wanted to say, but as anyone who writes knows, everything expounds off of one idea. Idea begat idea and before you know it, the jigsaw comes together and it just works.

I find both companionship and recognition in this song. I accept it for what it is, and it returns the favor. And I like that. Blind Melon with Change shall be my choice on this cold, unappreciated evening. I do hope you enjoy.

I don’t feel the suns coming out today
It’s staying in, its gonna find another way
As I sit here in this misery I don’t think I’ll ever see the sun from here
And oh as I fade away, they’ll all look at me and say,
Hey look at him I’ll never live that way
But that’s ok their just afraid to change

When you feel your life ain’t worth living, you’ve got to stand up and
take a look around you then look way up to the sky
And when your deepest thoughts are broken, keep on dreamin boy cause
when you stop dreamin its time to die
And as we all play parts of tomorrow
Some ways we’ll work and other ways we’ll play
But I know we can’t all stay here forever
So I want to write my words on the face of today
…..And then they’ll paint it

And oh as I fade away they’ll all look at me and say,
hey look at him and where he is these days

When life is hard you have to change

 

My little nuggets of Joy

Any good parent will tell you that it’s always all about the kids. 

Despite my ridiculous singledom, I am the proud parent of 4 children. 3 boys and 1 girl…well, it could be 6 girls if I count the fish…but that would ruin where I was going with the next line and throw me into a writers tailspin, so nix that part about the fish. My adoring children are 4-legged and furry, but they bring me more happiness and pure joy than any relatively hairless 2-legged man could. My life revolves around my dogs, as any of my friends would know. “I don’t know, it’s really hard for me to do anything after work ’cause of the kids. I can’t leave them alone that long!” Or how about “Why don’t you come up here because I have the pups to worry about. They like it better when I’m home with them.” I must admit that I’ve made many a sacrifice for the greater good of my puppy progenies, but they do my heart so much good, I can’t bear to treat them in a lesser regard.

In honor of Halloween, my kids, of course had costumes, although these were a total hand-me-down. These costumes have seen their fair share of Halloween Hyjinx. Karney was a Powerful Warlock and Russel was The Great Pumpkin. I love it! Heee!!

Yes, those do happen to be hats atop their little heads, and I think they are adorable! Although, by the expressions below, you can obviously tell that the kids felt differently. *smile* I think this is one of my favorite pictures of the 2 of them.

Here’s a little taste of what it’s like to live with the eternally excitable Russel. He’s actually a really good puppy who amuses the shit out of himself. When he gets playing like this, I cannot help but smile. Thank god for the simple pleasures in life. I don’t know where I’d be without them.

 

Hawaii, here I come!

For those who missed it, I am going to Hawaii in January!!!! Not to rub my vacation to paradise in anyone’s face, but I literally cannot wait to leave the suddenly frosty weather of the mid-atlantic region and venture the farthest west that I have ever been in my life. Hawaii is calling, she speaks to me in my dreams.

In honor of the freezing weather, I have decided to officially begin my countdown to the sun and fun. Not because today is some perfectly round number of days until my departure, nor has the timeline dwindled itself down to single digits, but rather just because I finally feel that my anxiousness can no longer contain itself without some form of externalization.

Today, I have 73 days until I depart for the Isle of Honolulu to spend 10 glorious days basking in the sun, and hopefully frequenting some bitchin’ nightlife with my dear friend Walter and her fabulously awesome roomie, Atherton!! Here I come, you two! I can’t wait!! Can you?? Whoo fucking whoo!!

 

Lyrical Psychoanalysis

Just when my mind has become so warped and obsessive about particular relationships that I question my own sanity, I’m pleased to report that my neuroses are shared with at least one other. This song makes me happy in that distorted, socio-path kinda way… but I’m ok with that. *smile* I couldn’t have put it any better myself. *wink* Please check out the video here.

Jenny Owen Youngs Fuck was I : 

Love grows in me like a tumor,
parasites bent on devouring its host.
I’m developing my sense of humor,
till I can laugh at my heart between your teeth,
till I can laugh at my face beneath your feet.

chorus

Skillet on the stove is such a temptation,
maybe I’ll be the lucky one that doesnt get burned.
What the fuck was I thinking?

Love plows through me like a dozer,
I’ve got more give than a bale of hay,
and there’s always a big mess left over.
What did you do?
What did you say?

Skillet on the stove is such a temptation,
maybe I’ll be the special one that doesnt get burned.
What the fuck was I thinking?

Love tears me up like a demon.
Opens the wounds and fills them with lead,
and I’m having some trouble just breathing.
If we werent such good friends I think that I’d hate you.
If we weren’t such good friends I’d wish you were dead

Oh it’s so embarrasing
I’m this awkward and uncomprable thing,
and I’m running out of places to hide