It's happening again. It is the ODDEST thing. I wake up and don't have a clue where I am. I'm not the kind to get messed up and crash on some one's couch. I live in a house and I've lived here for quite a while. I'm no longer scared when I have these thoughts though, which is odd all in itself. Instead now it's "OMG it's happening again. Think backwards... where are you. WHERE ARE YOU?" Then I start checking off each place I've lived until I've rebuilt the past and am back in my own bed in my own house. CREEPY!
New topic: guilt, guilt trips, flaky people, sneaky people: Get out of my way and stay the EFF away from me. I don't do guilt. I don't do guilt trips, and I refuse to treat anyone that way, even the ones who do it to me. They should know better. How the heck are they going to know it's possible to live without giving everyone around them a guilt trip, if they don't have at least one person to live that and show them. I take the challenge. I might hate you, but I won't give you a guilt trip. Somewhere in there, that all makes perfect sense to me.
I promise you I can handle the truth. I know the truth hurts. I'm sitting shot gun on that ride. Don't flake on me. Do what you say you're going to do, or DON'T. I don't really care. But don't say one thing and then do the opposite and believe that life carries merrily along. It might for a bit, but you are quickly going to lose anyone who has ever cared a little bit for you. Same with sneaky people. Don't they get tired of sneaking? Tired of lying to cover the sneaking? Tired of keeping track of the lies they told to cover the lies to cover the sneaking? Man up you little fucker and look me in the eye.
Sunday, May 31, 2009
Tuesday, May 26, 2009
Gather round it's story time
There once was a little old man. He was old, feeble, gentle, soft spoken, with rough leathered hands that had seen too many hard days. His wife has died and he is alone in their house, alone in their bed, alone in their world. His many long years have etched meticulous patterns into his life. It's not so much that everything needs to be done just-so, more that everything in this life should be given the attention it deserves, out of respect and honor, for that is what his life has been built upon.
Today he broke free of his routine and went to visit his wife. Pride in his pocket, love in his heart, steel in his bones, he trekked to the cemetery to visit her there. Today was going to be different for him. Since his wife had died, his world had all but stopped. He was heroic seeing her through until her final breath. He insisted that he would head the casket as it was carried out. He could bring himself to do everything, just not the last step which, to him, signified a final goodbye and acceptance. He was waiting until it was right in his heart, and then he would himself design and carve a stone to mark the final resting place of his beloved.
Today was the day that he would view this cemetery anew. He anticipated what it would be like to see that small plot of land and know that today he was ready to move forward. He was ready to measure it and begin the drawings for the headstone. It had taken him time to get here, to this point of admission, but it was the right time - his soul told him so. He had already purchased the adjacent plot so that when the time came, he could be buried next to his bride both eternally in heaven, and physically here on earth. He'd already decided that the headstone would be inscribed on the right with his wife's name, and the left side would remain untouched until the time came to bury him. This would be his final well thought out,outward sign of the love for his wife, for the world to see.
He now advances and closes the gap between himself and his wife. As he approaches he almost can not breathe. There is a binding in his chest that prevents him from inhaling, though his eyes have no problem seeing what lies before him. It seems someone on their own will felt that he didn't have the money, or maybe the time, perhaps thought that he was taking too long to mark the grave respectfully. Little did they know that this was to be HIS closure.
There upon the grave sat a single headstone for his wife - one that he had never seen, never been made aware of, and one... that left no room for him, either in its production or in its meaning.
Today he broke free of his routine and went to visit his wife. Pride in his pocket, love in his heart, steel in his bones, he trekked to the cemetery to visit her there. Today was going to be different for him. Since his wife had died, his world had all but stopped. He was heroic seeing her through until her final breath. He insisted that he would head the casket as it was carried out. He could bring himself to do everything, just not the last step which, to him, signified a final goodbye and acceptance. He was waiting until it was right in his heart, and then he would himself design and carve a stone to mark the final resting place of his beloved.
Today was the day that he would view this cemetery anew. He anticipated what it would be like to see that small plot of land and know that today he was ready to move forward. He was ready to measure it and begin the drawings for the headstone. It had taken him time to get here, to this point of admission, but it was the right time - his soul told him so. He had already purchased the adjacent plot so that when the time came, he could be buried next to his bride both eternally in heaven, and physically here on earth. He'd already decided that the headstone would be inscribed on the right with his wife's name, and the left side would remain untouched until the time came to bury him. This would be his final well thought out,outward sign of the love for his wife, for the world to see.
He now advances and closes the gap between himself and his wife. As he approaches he almost can not breathe. There is a binding in his chest that prevents him from inhaling, though his eyes have no problem seeing what lies before him. It seems someone on their own will felt that he didn't have the money, or maybe the time, perhaps thought that he was taking too long to mark the grave respectfully. Little did they know that this was to be HIS closure.
There upon the grave sat a single headstone for his wife - one that he had never seen, never been made aware of, and one... that left no room for him, either in its production or in its meaning.
Thursday, May 21, 2009
Breaking Tradition
Is it intuition that I'm doomed, or do I just FEEL that way? I spent the better part of the day convinced that I was going to die today and not make it home or maybe just be partially dead. I made sure that when I left the house I was wearing matching socks with no holes, underwear that would not embarrass my mother - you get the idea.
Left the house with no dirty dishes, no business undone. Wouldn't want anyone to have to clean up after me. Seriously I had convinced myself that I was going to die today, or rather that I would be diagnosed to die today. Cancer doesn't run in my family, but I've never been one to follow the rules anyhow...I'd break that tradition. Some people get the honor of being the first in the family to graduate high school or college. I, on the other hand, was ready to take on being the first with cancer. I'm really setting my sights high.
No cancer for me today; I'll pass thanks. Tomorrow may be another story. Something is wrong with me, I tell you. I feel it. If my intuition is this precise, that would be something - but this is a really lame way to find out. And if it's not intuition, I'm just really lame. Loser.
Left the house with no dirty dishes, no business undone. Wouldn't want anyone to have to clean up after me. Seriously I had convinced myself that I was going to die today, or rather that I would be diagnosed to die today. Cancer doesn't run in my family, but I've never been one to follow the rules anyhow...I'd break that tradition. Some people get the honor of being the first in the family to graduate high school or college. I, on the other hand, was ready to take on being the first with cancer. I'm really setting my sights high.
No cancer for me today; I'll pass thanks. Tomorrow may be another story. Something is wrong with me, I tell you. I feel it. If my intuition is this precise, that would be something - but this is a really lame way to find out. And if it's not intuition, I'm just really lame. Loser.
Wednesday, May 13, 2009
I am a princess
Just for shits and giggles, I went out and did something I normally don't do. Don't hold your breath, it's not THAT exciting - I'm clearly not the risk taking type. Because I'm a girl and I totally feed off of comfort and refuge, I bought myself the fluffiest, prettiest, calmest, most gently royal feeling bedding set I could find. It kind of looks like this: 
This means that every night when I climb into bed and pull the covers up to just under my chin, I actually FEEL one step closer to waking up and being a princess. =o) What have I been missing out on in life if all it took was one cozy blanket and few pillows to bring out a smile? Sure life sucks and no I'm really not completely satisfied with life just from a comforter, but heck... you mean happiness, even this small, is just within reach, even if it's for a few self indulgent fleeting minutes of being a princess... I'm in. I'm SOOO in.
Monday, May 4, 2009
Escape
I pick up a book and read it. It's entertaining because it allows me to escape. But then I've completely forgotten what I have just read. I sit at the piano. I can see the notes and hear them in my head. But I can not make my fingers play. I can not make them move. I shamefully admit at the meeting with admin that I actually have no idea what the answer is because I cannot seem to make one and one equal two. I know you need the answers and that you need them from me. There is not a logical way to explain that the synapses in this brain are simply not snapping. I can dump a mess of words into an email and hope the friend on the other end knows me well enough to translate this chaos. I search for an outlet. I relish each small accomplishment, and congratulate myself at the end of the day for a day with no panic attacks, nothing to self medicate, no mass suicides and no disappearing into never never land. Today thank God is almost over, and with any luck I can fall asleep and escape for several more hours.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)
