Today will be a triumph that will define the whole of my little family's new year.
- @#%^* my histrionics are PUNK ROCK *&%#$
- I'm just your typical divorcee, grad student, single mother of two who wants to A) gripe about shit B) make people read it C) magically lose weight and pin down prince charming while doing it. I'm hysterical and melodramatic -- and you know you like it!
Friday, December 31, 2010
I invoke a eucatastrophe
Today will be a triumph that will define the whole of my little family's new year.
Vigil
I will remain awake, trying my best all through the night and usher in the dawn with joy and a quiet, yet unshakeable, purposefulness.
Thursday, December 30, 2010
Anchor
So, we will decide in the new year...
Wednesday, December 29, 2010
His silence
I wonder when I will hear from him...I'm going to take a guess that it will be after New Year's...
Re-blogged from Ayelet Waldman
A good mother...
"A Good Mother remembers to serve fruit at breakfast, is always cheerful and never yells, manages not to project her own neuroses and inadequacies onto her children, is an active and beloved community volunteer. She remembers to make playdates, her children's clothes fit, she does art projects with them and enjoys all their games. And she is never too tired for sex."
hahahhahahahahahhhhhahahahahhahahahahhahahhhahahahahahahahahhahhhahaaahahahhhhahahahahahahahahah!
"A Good Mother remembers to serve fruit at breakfast, is always cheerful and never yells, manages not to project her own neuroses and inadequacies onto her children, is an active and beloved community volunteer. She remembers to make playdates, her children's clothes fit, she does art projects with them and enjoys all their games. And she is never too tired for sex."
hahahhahahahahahhhhhahahahahhahahahahhahahhhahahahahahahahahhahhhahaaahahahhhhahahahahahahahahah!
Tuesday, December 28, 2010
Effing gut rot
Why does re-working this paper make me want to throw up, even as I start I am running away from the mother-effing (literally...) thing.
2:12pm: Fuck, aching all over for him. Feel sick with it...
2:42pm: Scared shitless. The real separation from him is beginning, with all the terrifying possibilities (temporary or not) that may accompany it. Fuck, fuck, fuck...
3:53pm: Are we just learning how to live apart?
11:28pm: Epic separation anxiety. Like the ache I've always had for him, sitting on another floor of the house while he remained unavailable, engulfed by his computer. Only this time, the ache is times a billion. Night time, the witching hour. I can't be awake now -- feelings are too strong and untrustworthy. I hate and am in awe of him, that he won't contact me. Does he miss us at all? Or does he have everything he needs, 18 inches away on the screen. Please bring me restful sleep, keepers of the night.
I stood upon the brink. It was utterly dark before my fate.
2:12pm: Fuck, aching all over for him. Feel sick with it...
2:42pm: Scared shitless. The real separation from him is beginning, with all the terrifying possibilities (temporary or not) that may accompany it. Fuck, fuck, fuck...
3:53pm: Are we just learning how to live apart?
11:28pm: Epic separation anxiety. Like the ache I've always had for him, sitting on another floor of the house while he remained unavailable, engulfed by his computer. Only this time, the ache is times a billion. Night time, the witching hour. I can't be awake now -- feelings are too strong and untrustworthy. I hate and am in awe of him, that he won't contact me. Does he miss us at all? Or does he have everything he needs, 18 inches away on the screen. Please bring me restful sleep, keepers of the night.
I stood upon the brink. It was utterly dark before my fate.
Thank G_D for sisters
Been lying in my own filth for days, texting desperately, with doubt clogging the arteries to my heart. Miss him? Yes. Ache for us? Yes. Know what happiness would look like for us? Not yet. Don't think he does either. Space for me is the toughest. Dad used to say he couldn't discipline me as a kid because as soon as the conflict began I was a puddle of tears and cling to him like a monkey baby. He'd have to pry me off just to talk to me. I am the same. So the same.
Enter my sister the Queen. Thank G_D for her. She took the kids for me today so I can actually start on my bane (the paper re-write). And she's going to make sure they have fun, which lightens my heart. And she talked sense to me for an hour last night. About he and I needing space, about how we are both addicts in our own way, and that we need the space in order to be clear before we talk to each other -- talk about what we can accept and what we cannot.
Though it makes sense, being clear is a rather vague concept to me. While he and my sister seem to instinctively grasp it, I remain grasping. Time will tell, time will tell...
Enter my sister the Queen. Thank G_D for her. She took the kids for me today so I can actually start on my bane (the paper re-write). And she's going to make sure they have fun, which lightens my heart. And she talked sense to me for an hour last night. About he and I needing space, about how we are both addicts in our own way, and that we need the space in order to be clear before we talk to each other -- talk about what we can accept and what we cannot.
Though it makes sense, being clear is a rather vague concept to me. While he and my sister seem to instinctively grasp it, I remain grasping. Time will tell, time will tell...
Sunday, December 26, 2010
All we have to decide is what to do with the time that is given to us
That is difficult. I know I am stalled. I am uncertain of what I am doing. I must re-write this paper no matter what. Whether I decide to give up on grad studies or not. I am not sure why I feel so conflicted about school. I think it was not seeing the kids so much this past term. I miss them. It can't be like that. I will have to find babysitting and work hard in the days and when the kids are busy.
He doesn't want to talk to me. I feel conflicted by that too. On the one hand, I ache to see and hear him. On the other, wounds are all so fresh I am not sure what would come of a conversation. I guess I am just looking for some confirmation that he hasn't just completely given up on me yet. And yet if he has, I need to hear it. It's just going to be very hard to keep going after that. I feel lost. I can't wait until the kids are home tomorrow.
He doesn't want to talk to me. I feel conflicted by that too. On the one hand, I ache to see and hear him. On the other, wounds are all so fresh I am not sure what would come of a conversation. I guess I am just looking for some confirmation that he hasn't just completely given up on me yet. And yet if he has, I need to hear it. It's just going to be very hard to keep going after that. I feel lost. I can't wait until the kids are home tomorrow.
More withdrawal and self-reflection
Gnawing in the belly. The understanding that it must be like this right now, though it hurts. Smilla Jaspersen was right -- pain of the mind is worse than pain of the body. Especially regret. But I have to peel away the layers, and for me it had to begin violently -- I couldn't escape it because I have to face it. I was not only violent to him, but violent with myself. It's the only relief I've known. Volcanic emotional emptying. I haven't trusted love. I take take take or appease appease appease. I want to see me clearly, see the real me, and not recoil. Desire and longing are so strong in me -- for my kids, for him. How to free it and myself? I want to give and not expect return. Only the most self-contained person can do that. He sneered that I need religion, over the phone; was he right? Am I that weak? I've always sought it I suppose -- santa, teenage wicca, tibetan mediation, science. Now I seek freedom. If a companion in love is still in my future, if he is still in my future, I will only meet him if I am free.
Saturday, December 25, 2010
Pure of heart
I want to be pure of heart. To finally get rid of the grasping blackness. To be able to properly return the love that is offered me. I would like to be a warrior.
Withdrawal
Withdrawal symptoms are fucking painful. I am bottoming out on love and attachment. All the many elusive emotions I have pursued so doggedly and unconsciously since I was 13. I could blame my parents, my dad in particular, for sending me away to strange places twice in my life. I had always felt an obsessive love for the people closest to me and knew I was too intense for everyone: being sent away confirmed it and a love addict was born. Always searching, feeling like I would have to force and take the love I craved. I even found a quick way to make some love of my own -- two kids by the time I was 24. I've been a junkie ever since, negotiating dirty fixes and coming up empty after a few years. I don't know how to love without the feeling of wanting and taking, screaming for attention.
And now the love of my life is gone. Much of our split is my doing. And I feel the pain of it, in my chest, stomach, head -- it knocks me flat. I need to be tied to a bedframe for 3 days while the drug leaves my system. But I can't, I have responsibilities. I don't know how to pay for my own life. I've got to find a way. I would really rather die, truthfully. I wanted to throw myself under some cars speeding down the mountain, but I have kids and parents who would suffer for it. So instead, I must go on suffering.
I don't know what is beyond this. For now, I must suck the poison out.
And now the love of my life is gone. Much of our split is my doing. And I feel the pain of it, in my chest, stomach, head -- it knocks me flat. I need to be tied to a bedframe for 3 days while the drug leaves my system. But I can't, I have responsibilities. I don't know how to pay for my own life. I've got to find a way. I would really rather die, truthfully. I wanted to throw myself under some cars speeding down the mountain, but I have kids and parents who would suffer for it. So instead, I must go on suffering.
I don't know what is beyond this. For now, I must suck the poison out.
Thursday, December 23, 2010
The next morning
I feel nauseous. I miss him. I don't know that I did the right thing (though I am certain the way I did it was wrong). I feel bad for him, of course I want him to get rid of his obsession and come back to me. I also feel just a teensy weensy whisper of relief, of freedom to accomplish what I need to to be wholly responsible for myself. Shit, like figure out how to pay the rent, get and pay a babysitter, find a job while in grad school with 2 kids. Maybe I should look into co-op housing...
Later: negotiating love by text. Now, it's time to wait for him to come to terms with us and me to find out that all life is waiting, that waiting is just life in disguise...
Later: negotiating love by text. Now, it's time to wait for him to come to terms with us and me to find out that all life is waiting, that waiting is just life in disguise...
Wednesday, December 22, 2010
Russian insanity
I told my russian insanity to leave today. I stood over him with mock violence until he packed his fucking computer and left. I am sad for what wasn't and exhilarated for whatever is next.
Later: Tears. Let the ripping begin.
Later: Tears. Let the ripping begin.
Tuesday, December 21, 2010
Bikini-a-Day
Welcome to my new Bikini-a-Day program: a tool to help me see myself properly and motivate me to stick with my health and fitness goals for life. I've got the rest of my life to look hawt, so let's start now! How it works -- I put on a bikini and snap a pic every single morning, it's as simple as that! Thing is, even when I was thinner than now, I hid out in one piece suits. I thought I was too fat. Funnily enough, after this morning's shoot, I figured out that me 15 pounds heavier is not so bad! A few lines about what I see in these pics versus what I see in the mirror while I hide out in my closet. In the mirror I zero in on a tiny area of me and criticize it until I feel I must cover it up! In these photos, my eye embraces my whole physical self. And you know what I see? I see a girl who might be 15 lbs heavier, but who still has muscle, vibrance and sex appeal. When I look at these I also think -- you know what, I can definitely wear bikinis at the pool. No more waiting until I'm that elusive perfect weight! So girls, I suggest no matter what weight you are, take a snap shot of yourself in your favourite sexy outfit (be it a dress, bathing suit, lingerie or whatever) and be proud now. Reveal yourself to yourself -- it can only help you to see yourself properly and to commit to take more care of the amazing, sexy you. The photo below will start my new Bikini-a-Day page, where I hope to post pics most days.
Wednesday, December 15, 2010
How to manage stress and not junk out
Dear ethernet diary,
Well gut rot is here, and not the sticky gooey I just ate an entire box of something yummy kind. It's just boring old stress. The stress isn't even real, it's imaginary! So what to do about it before I eat an enitre box of something? I'm going to take the kiddies and go up a gondola into the west coast snow. Santa's up there, reindeer are up there, an outdoor fire pit and skating -- and best of all, 6 feet of snow. We are going to tumble head first into the snow. And my hope is that this low energy, dragging my body around feeling will tumble with us. I want to bring back some vitality, some hope, some confidence in myself. Some joy. I want to feel that I'm okay just being with myself. I know this all sounds like shlock, and it is! But effing shlock seems to actually affect my mindset, and as disturbing and/or laughable that is, it's still true. So -- time to face it, with christmas on top.
Well gut rot is here, and not the sticky gooey I just ate an entire box of something yummy kind. It's just boring old stress. The stress isn't even real, it's imaginary! So what to do about it before I eat an enitre box of something? I'm going to take the kiddies and go up a gondola into the west coast snow. Santa's up there, reindeer are up there, an outdoor fire pit and skating -- and best of all, 6 feet of snow. We are going to tumble head first into the snow. And my hope is that this low energy, dragging my body around feeling will tumble with us. I want to bring back some vitality, some hope, some confidence in myself. Some joy. I want to feel that I'm okay just being with myself. I know this all sounds like shlock, and it is! But effing shlock seems to actually affect my mindset, and as disturbing and/or laughable that is, it's still true. So -- time to face it, with christmas on top.
Saturday, December 11, 2010
Two steps forward, one step back
Is still one effing step forward!
Dear audience, who randomly land on my page but leave no comments, I am sorry I have neglected you for the last few weeks for the sake of a single-mother in grad school ambivalence stress-fest. This fall was like a repeat of the very first term I began undergrad, alone with 2 kiddies and pre-reqs that were 15 years old. I felt scared, I raged at the man in my life, I lay on the floor crying in frustration instead of tackling homework. I even ended up with the exact same transcript, grade for grade. History in my life appears to repeat itself with alarming accuracy.
And to you Lady in White, I am sorry for neglecting you for the last almost 3 years, and particularly sorry for so heavily abusing you for the last 3 months. I ate my feelings every chance I got, including today. I have ogled the fitblogs of twenty-somethings, envying the scope of their as yet unattained futures. I would like to suck it out of them. But instead, I shall wish them well, and attend a command repeat performance of my own weight-loss. That's right -- in 2004 I lost 40 pounds of baby/ I hate my husband weight and managed to keep it off through fear and fitness until fall 2009. That's when I let depression over my current relationship (also known as russian madness) and an obsessive need to prove myself through school override my well-being. Instead, I worshipped the bread-cheese-chocolate holiest of holy trinities.
What is it about 7.5 seconds of a taste explosion that approximates love and happiness so bemusingly? It's a true mystery, as apparently I am willing to withstand disfiguring self-hatred and stomach upset for hours and days afterwards. And to go on to partake of another 7.5 seconds of mediocre mouth-love. Emotional masturbation with food sucks!
It doesn't help. I feel weaker and more unworthy of love than ever!
So here's what's going to happen: I have a kind of break from school from now until January 4th (a total of 23 semi-vacation days). In that time I will 1) sleep 2) write 3) seek transformative solitude 4) work-out my ass off (literally). Seriously, daily weights (only for interest sake) and measures, and a weekly size 8 jeans sit-down test. Though weight-gain is a symptom and not the disease and weight-loss is a benefit and not a cure, the next couple of weeks will involve symptomatic treatment only -- because it's what I can manage right now. After that, I will find a cure.
Do or do not -- there is no try.
Dear audience, who randomly land on my page but leave no comments, I am sorry I have neglected you for the last few weeks for the sake of a single-mother in grad school ambivalence stress-fest. This fall was like a repeat of the very first term I began undergrad, alone with 2 kiddies and pre-reqs that were 15 years old. I felt scared, I raged at the man in my life, I lay on the floor crying in frustration instead of tackling homework. I even ended up with the exact same transcript, grade for grade. History in my life appears to repeat itself with alarming accuracy.
And to you Lady in White, I am sorry for neglecting you for the last almost 3 years, and particularly sorry for so heavily abusing you for the last 3 months. I ate my feelings every chance I got, including today. I have ogled the fitblogs of twenty-somethings, envying the scope of their as yet unattained futures. I would like to suck it out of them. But instead, I shall wish them well, and attend a command repeat performance of my own weight-loss. That's right -- in 2004 I lost 40 pounds of baby/ I hate my husband weight and managed to keep it off through fear and fitness until fall 2009. That's when I let depression over my current relationship (also known as russian madness) and an obsessive need to prove myself through school override my well-being. Instead, I worshipped the bread-cheese-chocolate holiest of holy trinities.
What is it about 7.5 seconds of a taste explosion that approximates love and happiness so bemusingly? It's a true mystery, as apparently I am willing to withstand disfiguring self-hatred and stomach upset for hours and days afterwards. And to go on to partake of another 7.5 seconds of mediocre mouth-love. Emotional masturbation with food sucks!
It doesn't help. I feel weaker and more unworthy of love than ever!
So here's what's going to happen: I have a kind of break from school from now until January 4th (a total of 23 semi-vacation days). In that time I will 1) sleep 2) write 3) seek transformative solitude 4) work-out my ass off (literally). Seriously, daily weights (only for interest sake) and measures, and a weekly size 8 jeans sit-down test. Though weight-gain is a symptom and not the disease and weight-loss is a benefit and not a cure, the next couple of weeks will involve symptomatic treatment only -- because it's what I can manage right now. After that, I will find a cure.
Do or do not -- there is no try.
Wednesday, December 1, 2010
Tuesday, November 30, 2010
Hey Hey Hey
You gotta live for the ones that you love you know
You gotta love for the life that you live you know
Just a reminder.
You gotta love for the life that you live you know
Just a reminder.
Monday, November 29, 2010
Bring on the effing secret
I deserve every second chance I get -- including this one. And every third chance, fourth chance, fifth chance,...,every ith chance (where i = infinity).
Saturday, November 27, 2010
Werewolf night
And I went for a walk after midnight underneath a werewolf moon. I would howl if I could, but I feel too full. Full stomach, full head, full heart. It has been 5 days since my last post (confession) and many days since I treated myself well. So much worry, tension, angst, mistrust, knotted up in my insides. Need ways to release it. Fresh lone air under a half-moon was peace-making -- I need to make peace with the world and peace with myself. I need to stop feeling so raw all the time; it causes me to seek buffers. Sugar. Yelling. Procrastination. I've effing said these things SO many times before. What will make the difference this time -- the second time around??
Funnily enough it has been 10 years since I turned my life around -- holy crap, 10 years! And lately I've been on a slip slide: sideways, backwards. Time for, at the very least, two steps forward one step back. To begin, release release release, by myself. Running, howling, pacing under night skies and in early dawns. Breathe, move, let thoughts tumble behind in my wake. I will start with my strengths and work on my weaknesses -- I am an efficient mover, so I've been told; waiting, being still, these make up an achilles heel. I must move.
Moving will be my antidote to stalled ambition, overeating, worry and stress. Anger too. I will take it out on the night. It has all embracing arms, dimly lit side streets that unravel as far down neighbourhoods as I care to walk, past storybook houses with spires and black trees clawing celestrial halos to shreds. It is good to be a spectre amongst spectres sometimes: to feel lighter than air, blacker than night, colder than frozen pavement.
Funnily enough it has been 10 years since I turned my life around -- holy crap, 10 years! And lately I've been on a slip slide: sideways, backwards. Time for, at the very least, two steps forward one step back. To begin, release release release, by myself. Running, howling, pacing under night skies and in early dawns. Breathe, move, let thoughts tumble behind in my wake. I will start with my strengths and work on my weaknesses -- I am an efficient mover, so I've been told; waiting, being still, these make up an achilles heel. I must move.
Moving will be my antidote to stalled ambition, overeating, worry and stress. Anger too. I will take it out on the night. It has all embracing arms, dimly lit side streets that unravel as far down neighbourhoods as I care to walk, past storybook houses with spires and black trees clawing celestrial halos to shreds. It is good to be a spectre amongst spectres sometimes: to feel lighter than air, blacker than night, colder than frozen pavement.
Monday, November 22, 2010
Suggestions please
For the best alternative activity to put-off a desire to sugar binge for 20 minutes -- preferably public-friendly. I'll start us off:
1) masturbation (may require privacy)
My mind is so in the gutter, and I suppose I'm going to make sure it stays there for life. There are many benefits to exercise ;)
1) masturbation (may require privacy)
My mind is so in the gutter, and I suppose I'm going to make sure it stays there for life. There are many benefits to exercise ;)
Effing bootcamp practice at midnight
In the company of the online tabata clock I found with the British male voice programmed in.
3, 2, 1 GO!!!! I might use it to stop procrastination fueled by feelings of inadequacy as well.
3, 2, 1 GO!!!! I might use it to stop procrastination fueled by feelings of inadequacy as well.
Fuck you
The classic phrase. We say it when we mean it and we say it when we don't. The question is, how should the user define the circumstances that warrant either. A bigger question is if western society can take anything constructive out of the pre-meditated use of the word.
For instance, I just told my mate "Fuck you!". I felt it was perfectly justified and that it should have enlightened him about what we were arguing about. He took the Western road and thought otherwise; his passive aggressiveness is appropriate and my blasphemy is, well, blasphemy.
Funnily enough, he just came down and gave me a peck. Perhaps this is evidence that my targeted epiphany worked...
For instance, I just told my mate "Fuck you!". I felt it was perfectly justified and that it should have enlightened him about what we were arguing about. He took the Western road and thought otherwise; his passive aggressiveness is appropriate and my blasphemy is, well, blasphemy.
Funnily enough, he just came down and gave me a peck. Perhaps this is evidence that my targeted epiphany worked...
Sunday, November 21, 2010
Discipline is
"Discipline is remembering what you want" -- no simple task.
I thought blogging would help me to do this but 5 days later she came out of her sugar haze to find nothing had changed...
How did it happen? I forgot to remember that I was remembering what I want. And what I want is this: peace of mind and body, although it will likely not occur in that order. How do we help ourselves to remember, when it is apparently so difficult? Do it everyday. There is no way around it. I did not worship the hill in the last 5 days -- I met deadlines (at the last minute), I hostessed family, I considered my life while shoving down any flour-sugar combo I could dig out of my cupboards and glowered at my mate -- AND I forgot what I wanted...
When does saying "I am the only one responsible for how I feel" and living it coincide? It coincides when you do what is right almost every second. And since some estimate we have about a thought per second, that means making 86,400 right decisions per 24 hours.
For me, I will start by waking up each day and writing to you, oh ethernet. Not in the hopes of making an impression on an audience, but on myself. Everyone I have ever met or learned of has made a larger impression on me than I have on myself. It's time to impress myself.
Directions to impress myself :
Begin at foot of hill, go up, turn and repeat.
My very next action will be to go up a hill, first the one out my door, followed by the one in my heart. I will pound pavement and when I return, I will decide which action I am most dreading and I will devote 15 minutes to doing that very thing. Then I will promise myself that I can and will make 86,400 additional responsible decisions that day. correction: 86,400 extraordinary decisions that day!
Time for a page on extraordinary decisions...feel free to tell me yours. With thousands to choose from, this is a breeze...
I thought blogging would help me to do this but 5 days later she came out of her sugar haze to find nothing had changed...
How did it happen? I forgot to remember that I was remembering what I want. And what I want is this: peace of mind and body, although it will likely not occur in that order. How do we help ourselves to remember, when it is apparently so difficult? Do it everyday. There is no way around it. I did not worship the hill in the last 5 days -- I met deadlines (at the last minute), I hostessed family, I considered my life while shoving down any flour-sugar combo I could dig out of my cupboards and glowered at my mate -- AND I forgot what I wanted...
When does saying "I am the only one responsible for how I feel" and living it coincide? It coincides when you do what is right almost every second. And since some estimate we have about a thought per second, that means making 86,400 right decisions per 24 hours.
For me, I will start by waking up each day and writing to you, oh ethernet. Not in the hopes of making an impression on an audience, but on myself. Everyone I have ever met or learned of has made a larger impression on me than I have on myself. It's time to impress myself.
Directions to impress myself :
Begin at foot of hill, go up, turn and repeat.
My very next action will be to go up a hill, first the one out my door, followed by the one in my heart. I will pound pavement and when I return, I will decide which action I am most dreading and I will devote 15 minutes to doing that very thing. Then I will promise myself that I can and will make 86,400 additional responsible decisions that day. correction: 86,400 extraordinary decisions that day!
Time for a page on extraordinary decisions...feel free to tell me yours. With thousands to choose from, this is a breeze...
Tuesday, November 16, 2010
Yes to mother-effing boot camp
Starting this tomorrow after I get home and see the kids: will do 2 sets of all exercises for recommended times (warm up: 15 sec/exercise; conditioning: 20 sec/exercise)...going for a walk now to dream about it...
Climbing a hill in the dark
it is 4:12am and i've been up all night. i am supposed to be outlining my thesis proposal. it's a very interesting project, and yet, in the last days, i've been making little progress and spending too much time daydreaming about other things. what is this chronic lack of focus? i've worked almost non-stop since january 2006 to create an opportunity for myself -- and here it is. now i can't seem to feel worthy of it. i'm afraid. so, No.1, i will keep going no matter what. i may be crawling today, but, like j.k., i'm a tryer. and, No.2, i'm gonna get out on that dark hill, so conveniently near my house, an work it out. with every breath i will think: i deserve success, "it is already right here in my head". it may be cheesy, but it's what this mind/body/soul trapped in her 6 year old self needs to think and feel. i need to hold myself right now, like i hold my own kids, until i grow out of judging myself.
now, personally, i eschew all manner of vague self-help talk, but sometimes you just have to walk the walk -- and follow it with some kick-ass push-ups at four in the morning. i am training for triumph.
now, personally, i eschew all manner of vague self-help talk, but sometimes you just have to walk the walk -- and follow it with some kick-ass push-ups at four in the morning. i am training for triumph.
Monday, November 15, 2010
Morning after the orgy
nighttime often brings with it profound and passionate epiphanies about the nature of my relationship with my significant other -- this often leads to me epiphanying all over his head. not with physical blows mind you, but with explosions of pent up frustration that increase the number of chasms between us. it is almost always a secret attack, and he is left wordless and confused.
my questions is this: how do i feel now on the morning after? do i feel satisfied, victorious, bereft? i am not certain i feel any of these extremes today. i think i still feel frustrated, only with less intensity because the light of day is shining in upon me, and i have planned activities for the next 12 plus hours. it's not yet time for me to shudder at the thought of looming hours of vulnerable REM sleep, in which i relive all the stresses of my life in half-sane exaggerated detail. sleep is no refuge for me.
and what of his interpretation of these nighttime scourges -- they cause him to oversleep the next day. he has a talent for dreams. i don't think we share epiphanies, we share habits and old wishes for a future we moulted a long time ago.
in my safe, waking hours, i dream of a new collective skin: my epiphanies knit with his dreams. the comingling of our anonymous thought.
my questions is this: how do i feel now on the morning after? do i feel satisfied, victorious, bereft? i am not certain i feel any of these extremes today. i think i still feel frustrated, only with less intensity because the light of day is shining in upon me, and i have planned activities for the next 12 plus hours. it's not yet time for me to shudder at the thought of looming hours of vulnerable REM sleep, in which i relive all the stresses of my life in half-sane exaggerated detail. sleep is no refuge for me.
and what of his interpretation of these nighttime scourges -- they cause him to oversleep the next day. he has a talent for dreams. i don't think we share epiphanies, we share habits and old wishes for a future we moulted a long time ago.
in my safe, waking hours, i dream of a new collective skin: my epiphanies knit with his dreams. the comingling of our anonymous thought.
Sunday, November 14, 2010
The Who
Who:
ask yourself "Who?". who am i hearing in my head right now? who am i reacting to in my head at this moment? often, it is not me -- it is the internalized version of my man, kid, boss, parent, sibling, friend. then i go on to behave in response to these inner tyrants. i have relationships with them unbeknownst to the actual owners of these phantasms. not to say that these illusory kin don't maintain a certain exaggerated likeness of the real thing -- but exaggerated is the key point. they are larger than life and stuck in my tiny head, and to manage the cacophony i drink copious amounts of tea, eat sugar, stay up later than i should, growl at people, waste time, tense up, yell, run away, etc. etc.
yesterday i had a glorious moment in which i recognized that i was reacting to the phantasm while the real thing was right in front of me. i thought, what if i only respond to you and not YOU, there, lurking in my brain incorporating yourself subtly into every thought and feeling i have until i don't know who is me and who is you anymore! unfortunately, the yelling and cursing and chasing of YOU inside my head (at that moment) came out as some nasty snarling noises; however, i think you will agree that it was worth it. the result is that i feel that i can now respond to you with a gentle honesty that was not accessible before. my inner workings were so clogged up with the pulsing, irritated, weeping and infected version of you-me before, that i wasn't able to listen to what you say, or watch what you do without commenting from a twisted place. now i can and what i have to say is this:
"i love you, i care about you, you still intrigue and seduce me; but, the life choices you make are very stressful for me, and i feel that you have forced me to live with them for a long time now and that i can no longer cope with these circumstances. so, if you want to be with me and be close to me you must quit smoking, get off your computer, and make time to be at home without making us feel that we are constantly on borrowed time."
and to YOU, grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr..................
ask yourself "Who?". who am i hearing in my head right now? who am i reacting to in my head at this moment? often, it is not me -- it is the internalized version of my man, kid, boss, parent, sibling, friend. then i go on to behave in response to these inner tyrants. i have relationships with them unbeknownst to the actual owners of these phantasms. not to say that these illusory kin don't maintain a certain exaggerated likeness of the real thing -- but exaggerated is the key point. they are larger than life and stuck in my tiny head, and to manage the cacophony i drink copious amounts of tea, eat sugar, stay up later than i should, growl at people, waste time, tense up, yell, run away, etc. etc.
yesterday i had a glorious moment in which i recognized that i was reacting to the phantasm while the real thing was right in front of me. i thought, what if i only respond to you and not YOU, there, lurking in my brain incorporating yourself subtly into every thought and feeling i have until i don't know who is me and who is you anymore! unfortunately, the yelling and cursing and chasing of YOU inside my head (at that moment) came out as some nasty snarling noises; however, i think you will agree that it was worth it. the result is that i feel that i can now respond to you with a gentle honesty that was not accessible before. my inner workings were so clogged up with the pulsing, irritated, weeping and infected version of you-me before, that i wasn't able to listen to what you say, or watch what you do without commenting from a twisted place. now i can and what i have to say is this:
"i love you, i care about you, you still intrigue and seduce me; but, the life choices you make are very stressful for me, and i feel that you have forced me to live with them for a long time now and that i can no longer cope with these circumstances. so, if you want to be with me and be close to me you must quit smoking, get off your computer, and make time to be at home without making us feel that we are constantly on borrowed time."
and to YOU, grrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrrr..................
Saturday, November 13, 2010
I am my own terrorist
i observe that, a few moments ago, i had a cataclysm of stressful thoughts combined with some body fatigue (from today's hill workouts) and the result was eating 4 handfuls of chocolate chips. i am so used to the feeling of these thought knots that i instinctively shoved them down with yummy, loving sugar. interestingly, my mind was instantly soothed, but my stomach feels like furtive terrorists set off a pipe bomb (note that in this scenario i am my own terrorist). "it all happened so fast officer!" from this moment on i will love, cherish and obey...no, sorry, got sidetracked. from this moment on i will keep a lookout for terrorizing thought knots, fucking write them down to get them out of my system, and not fucking shove un-needed shit in my mouth.
there, i said it.
there, i said it.
On being the hub
i am the hub of my little family. and that leaves me open to depression that i like to fill with sugar. let me explain: more than half of my identity is filled with the duty i feel towards them, and the actions that go along with managing everyone and everything, while their identities are free of this -- they grow from my love and caring, and use it to walk out the door in search of their own adventures. meantime, i feel half of my adventure just left me behind. it is the case with lover, son and daughter. don't get me wrong, i am not upset or jealous (most of the time), i revel in their joy. it's just that i am trying to identify why i feel this loss everytime i am left sitting on my couch by myself. it would be nice if my identity was full up, and being a mother and partner were the icing.
time to hit the hill.
time to hit the hill.
Worship the hill
i promise revealing personal melodrama is on its way, but it seems my first blog act will be to worship the hill that lies a few hundred feet from my door. this past week, i went up the hill in the daylight savings dawn to strengthen my muscles and bones and clear my head. it works wonders. i am up a bit later this saturday morning, but i get up at 5:30am weekdays for this ritual. a ritual that will allow me to slough off inches of insulation i have put between me and the big scary world, between me and my own feelings. this is the second time i will have used exercise to find myself. the first time, i only found my physical self -- and because i was very young, it seemed like THE pinnacle was to feel sexy and attractive, wear the clothes i wanted, be a yummy mummy. time moves on, life changes, stress and challenges arise, and the foundation of the new me crumbled. i turned to no sleep and sugar to make it through. old habits, time-tested habits. and here i am, not quite back where i started, but feeling very similar feelings to the girl i was from inside the woman i have become.
now a change. based on the solid bedrock of truly knowing myself, giving myself what i need, managing fear by being with myself in fresh early-morning air, not off in over-sugared, hollywood fantasy, if i were only skinny enough to wear le chateau land. my pinnacle is the top of the hill, not once, but everyday one way or another. i now know it is a daily journey, not a once or even twice in a lifetime thing -- there is no standing still, only matching dynamic life with dynamic self.
to that end, here are my beginning stats:
5'7"
chest: 38"
waist: 32"
hips: 37.5"
thigh: 24"
i don't do scales, but here i am in my size 8 lucky brand jeans, the best judges of weight in the world -- i'm guessing i'm about a size 10 right now:
now a change. based on the solid bedrock of truly knowing myself, giving myself what i need, managing fear by being with myself in fresh early-morning air, not off in over-sugared, hollywood fantasy, if i were only skinny enough to wear le chateau land. my pinnacle is the top of the hill, not once, but everyday one way or another. i now know it is a daily journey, not a once or even twice in a lifetime thing -- there is no standing still, only matching dynamic life with dynamic self.
to that end, here are my beginning stats:
5'7"
chest: 38"
waist: 32"
hips: 37.5"
thigh: 24"
i don't do scales, but here i am in my size 8 lucky brand jeans, the best judges of weight in the world -- i'm guessing i'm about a size 10 right now:
keep in mind, i am sucking in -- but i believe i deserve that priviledge given that i am baring it all on the internet. stay tuned for more bi-monthly webcam wednesdays (next up Wednesday, December 1st). i know i will.
Tuesday, November 9, 2010
Showing up
I showed up, that's what counts. Anything after that is bonus when you're a single parent in grad school.
Monday, November 8, 2010
Taking back 'work'
i no longer work: i "actualize, author, beget, bring into being, bring into existence, bring to pass, build, cause to be, compose, conceive, concoct, constitute, construct, contrive, design, devise, discover, dream up, effect, erect, establish, fabricate, fashion, father, forge, form, formulate, found, generate, give birth to, give life to, hatch, imagine, initiate, institute, invent, invest, make, occasion, organize, originate, parent, perform, plan, procreate, produce, rear, set up, shape, sire and spawn".
i think i'll ponder what to spawn now.
i think i'll ponder what to spawn now.
Fire Opal
enough insecurity. enough gut-gnawing doubt. enough excuses. no shirking responsibility. no defeat. time to tap into raw running life blood -- prolific creativity endowed by mum, focused explosive power from dad. gonna blast my way out of here and ignore the shrapnel. fuck age, fuck status, fuck requirements. build the heat, feed the fire that smoldered in the basement while adolescence, motherhood, wifedom and citizenry tacked on floor after floor of flimsy gyprock and cheap fiberglass insulation. no more bogeymen, no more rabid black dogs to kick dead. i am donning an invincible cloak, i am walking free. i live on the mountain; trees are my shelter, the open sky my window on the world: clean, cold air snaps in and out of my chest, muscles pump, thoughts ravage, up to the top, up, up. only up from here. only joy from here. there is no backwards. I gain leagues and fathoms. sometimes i run, sometimes i crawl. it makes no difference to me. i am a fire opal refracting life - brilliant blues, yellows, reds from the compressed sediment of a former existence.
Welcome to the Twilight Zone
where i will examine my pre-midlife self and the influences that shaped her. in melodramatic fashion, i will let loose ghosts, howls, and humiliations to make room for my very own eu-catastrophe. i invite you to witness one woman's deconvolution and personal re-evolution...
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