toxic love

I've got plenty of, well, crap swirling around in my head right now. I feel full of uncertainties and questions and also a lot of hurt for other people. I think, after a pretty rough patch a few weeks ago, a patch full of briars that threatened to hold onto my skin, I'm actually okay. I'm kind of exhausted, which makes it difficult to ponder too much about anything for an extended amount of time without falling asleep, but I really do think I'm okay. Or, at least, I'll be okay.

This does not stop the confusion and pain, though. Perhaps I'm just realizing that's part of life. I can feel that pain but not take it on as my own? I wonder if I'm capable of this, or if the pain is just waiting for me to allow myself to fall into old habits? As I said, it's only been a few weeks since the last low.

But, oh, the questions. Why do we hide so much of our pain from others? Is it because we are ashamed that we are allowing ourselves to endure this pain? I feel this way sometimes; I want to just tell people, "Oh, yeah, I'm fine," even when I'm not because I know I shouldn't allow myself to not be fine. But, is that always a choice? I want to say yes and no at the same time. Yes, I'm allowing myself to wallow and hurt. No, the hurt and fear are uninvited and don't intend to leave and I can't do anything about that.

I get why I don't hide my hurt with others, but do others hide their hurt away? Is it because they believe no one can help them? Because they feel they have to get through whatever it is alone? Because we're always supposed to look good on the outside no matter how screwed up everything seems when no one is looking too closely?

Sometimes I feel that facade is a lie. Not just a cover, a protection against unwelcome eyes, but a lie. Life isn't always easy and I think sometimes we can make it more difficult by hiding the difficulties. Does the hiding somehow extend the trouble and pain? I wonder. We spend so much time trying to bury what's wrong that we don't address it, put it out there in the world, let it go?

I have lots of questions, but no real, coherent answers.

So, because I am afraid to go back to the constant wall-building and darkness, pain and, well, more fear, I've asked for help. I've asked for help once before, at a time when not asking would have resulted in something I can't think about. This time around, I'm feeling like I'm rowing calmly on a somewhat placid lake, not like I'm hoping for a dinky little lifeboat as I clutch a railing on the Titanic.

So, I've asked for help. If I can offer help, I'm here. I probably don't have any good answers, but I can just be here and listen. And, I hope that helps.

---------------------------

I didn't mean to ramble so much, to think through writing only to come to no conclusions, but there it is. I'm starting to question whether there's not some great celestial event or something that can explain the current turmoil I see around me. Because I can't explain it any other way, so it might be time to start blaming the stars or the alignment of the planets or something.

---------------------------

On a much lighter note, as I try to skim the surface and not sink, I told Cardo that I may just be toxic, and then I couldn't get this song out of my head:



"Hexxus (Tim Curry) sings Toxic Love"

Ah, Tim Curry.

peace

I don't really know what to say about yesterday's Air Race crash. Pic and I were out most of the day, unconnected from any kind of news. I didn't even know about the crash until Poke called from nowhere near here to ensure we were okay.

My heart and thoughts of peace go out to those who were hurt and their loved ones and also to the loved ones of those who died.

one up and one down

Yesterday, in the midst of me floundering around, trying to function like a "normal" human (whatever that means), Pic is having a great time. While I'm having a quiet, but scary, breakdown, she is soaking in the good times. How can I make sure she holds onto that? How do I attain that for myself?

Anyhow, we were settling down last night, Pic told me, "This was a great day! I got to see the fireworks, I got a pocsicle, I gotted to play. And, did you see me do the monkey bars? I did them all by myself!" (No, those weren't typos. I was transcribing Pic-speak.)

Looking at it through her eyes, it's all crayon scribbles and sparklies. We should bottle that up!

musical monday: in a funk and out again (i hope)

For whatever reason, I have been in a deep, deep funk today. Pic and I spent the day in the same condo, but we didn't really spend any time together. I know that she needs much more than nearness from me, but I was on complete disconnect. I did manage to get a few things accomplished -- including making oatmeal with her this morning -- but it didn't seem to matter. Today is definitely one of those days where I have to remind myself that I'll (eventually) sleep and wake to a kind of new start tomorrow.

So, anyhow, tonight, after Cardo got home, we went to the pool for about forty-five minutes. We came home to clean up and dry off and then we set out again. We walked for about an hour. Although we brought the wagon along, Pic chose to walk part of the hour. She tucked her tiny hand in mine and we walked in the darkening evening. I started singing this song to her, because why not embrace cliche sometimes?


"The Beatles - I Want To Hold Your Hand"

Happy end of Monday. Here's to Tuesday!

when harry met kinsey

I've been so restless lately, dreaming about finishing up obligations that haven't really started so I can move on to more dreamy endeavors.

I am yearning for warmer days when I only need a windbreaker at most. I miss my sandals and being able to walk around without three layers of clothes and at least one pair of socks in the condo. I want to be able to spend seven hours outside without freezing into a human popsicle.

And, I can't stand when I do this: wish away the days. I'm not doing it on purpose. I'm trying to remind myself to savor each moment of each day, but I'm just sucking at that lately.

I have been doing a lot of reading, though. There are about a million billion zillion books I want to get to, but at times like these, I fall back on the familiar. I have made it through "F" in the Kinsey Millhone series and I think that's about as far as I'm going to get for now. I have a lot of required reading that I'm also doing and I need to pick that up even more. So, for the next five months or so, I'll be sticking to a required reading list. Ah, well.

Sometimes I'll be traipsing around here on the interweb and I'll see that others sometimes resolve to or wish to read more. There are moments when I'm so overwhelmed that I almost (almost) wish to read less. I have read about eight of my own books in the last month. This afternoon, Pic and I read for about an hour-and-a-half.

Among other books, we read I Miss You, Stinky Face written by Lisa McCourt and illustrated by Cyd Moore, which I love. I love the imagination on both the part of the child and on the part of the mamma. And, I love the illustrations. Lots of love here. I'd really like to know why "Stinky Face," though. Hmmm.

Pic is also very into Smelly Socks written by Robert Munsch and illustrated by Michael Martchenko. This is not one of my favorites, but I'm really trying to be very hands off when it comes to what Pic chooses to read. The pictures are nice and bright, but I'm just not that into the story. I do so very much love Munsch's The Paper Bag Princess, though. (And, I like Martchenko's illustrations there more.) I'm definitely not one of the many, many fans of Love You Forever. The mom creeping across the bedroom floor freaks me out more than I can convey. I glanced at a few of the amazon reviews (too many to even begin making a dent there) and some people were upset that others didn't like it, saying that we dissenters were reading the book too literally and that it's just a representation of unconditional love on the mother's part. However, it's presented as literal...there she is creeping across the floor. And, that image brings to mind The Yellow Wallpaper, which, I've admitted before, is the scariest thing I've ever read. (Do I have a nice set of my very own issues? Why, yes, I do. I'm glad the so many love Love You Forever, but I'll continue to steer clear of it.)

So, as I said, I'm attempting to just let Pic find her own when it comes to reading material, although I will let her know when I really don't like a book or character (hello, Dora the Explorer, I'm looking at you). I'll read those books once, if asked, and then move on.

Anyhow, Cardo's new thrift shop scavenger hunt entails finding all of the available Harry Potter movies on DVD. He only has the first two, I believe. In the meantime (in between time), he's renting the others from Netflix. Last night, we watched Harry Potter and the Order of the Phoenix. Actually, it was more like he watched it and I tried not to. I have a hard time not pointing out where the movies diverge from the books (just ask Cardo...I'm sure it's his favorite part of watching the movies with me). I think he's finally, finally convinced that he wants to hear the books in full. I have no idea how long the wait is for the libraries' copies of the Jim Dale audio versions and I'm thinking these are items we just might end up buying new (gasp!). Actually, we can probably find some decent used ones online somewhere.

(If you haven't read/viewed the Harry Potters and you plan to, you might want to skip below in case I give something away that you didn't want to know beforehand. In other words, there might be spoilers forthcoming.)

Last night, though, I just couldn't get over how subdued some of the parts of the movies were. The beginning of Order of the Phoenix, for example, with the dementor attack. I thought everything would be much more frantic. And, Mrs Figg was way more laid back than she ever is when I read the books. And, when Ron drinks the poison in Slughorn's office? I would have been freaking the crap out if Poke had just been poisoned. (It may be that I'm just a tad overly dramatic, no?)

We made it partway through Harry Potter and the Half-Blood Prince before Cardo declared he was heading off to bed. We might watch the rest this evening. Give me about five more months and I'll sit down and read the books again. (I thought I might do that this month, but I opted for Kinsey instead.)

on commitment

As much as it chagrins me to admit it, I am one of those "all or nothing" people. I try to be more easy-going, but I completely and overly commit myself to everything I do. And, let me assure you, it's exhausting. I want to be able to say, "This is just a job," or, "This is just a friendship," or what have you, and let it go at that, but I can't. It would be nice to enjoy whatever it is I am doing while I'm doing it and then be able to go on to my next activity, free of thoughts of the last activity.

I am currently having a commitment problem. I am extending myself in too many different directions, and it's not even that many different directions really. I've been on-again, off-again with a stupid* deep, dark depression which has somewhat drained me of motivation. I'm striving to find some good motivation and to get things done and to want to do them.

Because I am having a difficult time getting things done, I just want to quit. All or nothing. Either I'm completely motivated and committed, or I'm not doing it, whatever "it" may be.

And here's the thing, I know what I want. I just want to open myself up to being able to do what I want. I want to have the confidence in myself that I've never had. I want to have the confidence in myself that many other people have in me. How is it that others can see something in me that I can't see?

Anyhow, I'm thinking that my personality is only exhausting because I am fighting it. Is that it? Perhaps.

------------------

* Pic will not allow us to say "stupid." She tells us, "Hey, watch your words."

branching out

Never, ever, ever have I been comfortable going out on limbs. And, for me, so very many things constitute going out on a limb. There's much I can say on this topic, but I'll keep it short(ish...I think).

I'm think I'm truly a wall-flower. I've spent much of my life figuratively beating myself up about this, and I still swing between wanting to either just get over it or just accept it about myself. I'd very often like to disappear into the background while others shine. It's not that I don't want the recognition or that I don't want to bask in the spotlight, it's just that, well, I don't. At least, I have myself convinced that I don't.

And, here's the problem: Life doesn't just go around handing stuff to us. Well, not to me, so much. Sure, she's treated me incredibly well, but when I truly want something, I have to work for it, or at least ask for it. That's just how it goes for everyone, I know. And, at least very often Life works with me when I'm willing and able to put myself out there. It's just that I have such a skittishness, such a fear, that I'll ask and Life (more specifically: those I'm doing the actual asking of) will kick me down and laugh at me and leave me crying in a dark corner. I have no real idea where I obtained this sense of self-doubt, but it's been with me for as long as I can remember.

Lately, I've been understanding my parents so much more. My childhood parents. The ones who were worried about providing for us financially. The ones who wanted to be able to do more than provide food and shelter. We are certainly not lacking anything, but I am feeling the need to get over whatever it is I am going through right now and figure out how I am going to be a better provider for my family.

Today, I allowed myself to be hurt twice. I allowed myself and my integrity* to be brushed off twice -- once by someone who ultimately doesn't matter all that much to me and once by someone who matters a great deal to me. I let myself wallow in my hurt for a while. I took off in anger and sat in silence. Then, I came home, ate a late dinner to fortify myself and then I climbed out on that limb. One limb. And, I'll be hanging here for a while. I somewhat expect this limb to snap and I'm not sure what I expect to be waiting for me at the end of my fall, but I'm out here. I'm trying to be the best parent and member of this family I can be, but lately I've been screwing it up. For now, I'm hoping that this tree has a lot of limbs and that some of them are strong enough to support me.

----------------------

* I don't think "integrity" is quite what I want here. My pride? My sense of self-worth? I'm not sure.

movies, depression and clutter

Kind of a lot for one post, but I didn't want to do a whole bunch of posts. So here goes:

So, I'm still pretty tired, but we're home for the evening, I have a few things to do and then...off to bed and (I'm figuratively crossing my fingers here) some spectacular slumber.

As for today? Let me just tell you that my child is thoroughly excited by 'Dolly!' as she refers to Hello, Dolly! Definitely my child. She's not as into The Sound of Music. I'm wondering if she'll like Mary Poppins and I'm looking for that at the thrift stores now (now, I'll just have to get over my not-so-much-loving Mary Poppins). I'm thinking we'll add in a little Music Man and My Fair Lady and see how we do with those (she enjoyed what we watched of Funny Face, so I'm hoping she's also an Audrey fan). Oh, and Into the Woods. I'll have to watch that one again also.

Other movies? Bedknobs and Broomsticks, which I enjoy. I'm thinking to get Chitty Chitty Bang Bang, which I've never seen (yeah, I know). Any thoughts on that one? Any other thoughts? She wasn't so into Yours, Mine and Ours or the Hayley Mills Parent Trap, so we'll try those again later.

Also for later, and after I've seen them again because it's been a while: Escape to Witch Mountain and Return from Witch Mountain* and Watcher in the Woods (which was a little creepy to me, so that'll be for when she's quite a bit older).

Oh, I should probably mention that we did not, of course, watch all of these today. I just got into a musicals/older children's movies mode.

----------------------

* I think one of these movies was recently remade, but I'll stick with the originals. We'll see. I tend to glorify things in recollection.

----------------------

I just watched this momversation. It was not easy to watch.



I also like the video that Mindy Roberts posted in the comments, part of the episode that ended up on the virtual cutting room floor.

----------------------

As for the clutter? You might be thinking, as was I, that I had already divested myself of all the extras greeting cards in my possession. Oh, would we be wrong! I found two more sets. Out they go, along with a plastic tub of frail rubber bands and a Marvin the Martian keychain that I believe I never actually used. (The rubber bands, which are snapping as I stretch them, are headed for the trash.)

give me 100ccs of something, stat

Am I the only one who ever wonders if I should be medicated? Are, am I the only one still wondering while everyone else is medicated? (I more doubt the second.)

I've been wondering more and more often lately if I should be on something. I don't know what. Anti-anxiety medication (which my doctor has told me is what is prescribed for depression)? Sleeping pills? Get-off-my-butt-and-get-motivated-and-stop-whining pills? All of the preceding?

There are lots of days, most days sometimes, when I wonder if the way I always feel is normal, if it's the way I'll always feel and if it's right or if I could and should feel differently, less full of worry and woe, less tired, lethargic, apathetic.

Right now, I'm coasting. I'm doing well enough. I'm trying to keep busy. I'm dreaming, but not sleeping. I'm trying to give myself over to the direction I'm taking in my life, but I'm also trying to figure out who I am and what I want. It's been a long time since I've been here. I've been floating along for so long, doing what was supposed to come next because I'm always overwhelmed by the vast amount of possibilities. Now, I've put things on hold and I see that vast horizon and, well, I like the mountains. (That was a fun, convoluted metaphor, no?)

I keep thinking of the Dixie Chicks's "More Love". Specifically, the line, "We're afraid to be idle/So we fill up the days." I spend a lot of time there.



So, general advice? Other than, 'Just get over it already,' because that doesn't work for me.

--------------

P. S. That song keeps freezing up at about 1:15 for me. Sorry if it does the same for you. I swear the lyrics are there.

summer wanes

It's a few minutes before nine o'clock and as I look out my window here, I see a brightly lit pool but a dark, dark sky. Just a few weeks ago, we might have just been rounding up our evening walk, returning to the car to drive home, sometimes by way of the grocery store for a treat. Tonight, our walk ended at least forty minutes ago and it was already getting a bit late-seeming then.

Summer, you have a good month left in you. It's days like today, when we spend the waning hours of the day on our walk, only to come home and realize it's barely past eight that I start to yearn for your friend Autumn. (Actually, I don't know that Summer and Autumn really are friends. Hmm.)

School starts soon (next week for most everyone I know) and it's strange to not be going back. It's strange to still feel so uncertain about what comes next. And, although autumn is my favorite season, I don't know that I'm looking forward to this one as much. I don't have a reason to go back to the place I've been going for the last decade. The friendships that took me so long to cultivate, for lack of a better word, seem to be slipping away and this makes me sad.

Part of this could be my living too long in my own head this summer. Part of this definitely is that, in living so much in my own head and dwelling in my own doubts and insecurities, I've been lax in my end of the friendship deal. I've not been available enough to my friends and, for that, I apologize. Sometimes I let the dark, foggy state so envelope me that I just can't find the energy to reach out. And, if I do, I don't make that many efforts. Any time I reach out and there isn't anyone immediately at the other end of my reach, I start to assume that my grasp is unwanted and then I wallow in more doubt and insecurity. I don't mean to be like this, but I've spent the last almost three decades becoming this way. I'm working on it, if only right now by acknowledging it.

So, anyhow, although I'm feeling this overwhelming sense of sadness, I'm sending this out instead:



I'll be walking in the park if you need to know where to find me. And, even more importantly, if anyone else is feeling some of what I didn't intend to share above, please do reach out and I'll make the effort, that really isn't any effort at all, to be waiting.