Humanity

Man, I feel like a lot is going on lately with humanity, or lack there of. Is it the painful experience for those at the holiday's that make them snap? I mean, I know I am having a hell of a time this lovely holiday season. My fuse is short and my tongue is sharp. I am not proud of any of this. I struggle immensely with it all. I try.

My uncle was neglected, beaten, and left for dead. He remains in a coma, kidneys shot. I pray he makes it, but his situation was so terrible, what would be best for him? No one knows but him. I give him strength to make the decision to fight or let go. I love him, that's all I need to know.

A child was brought into The Children's Hospital with severe brain damage and cigarette burns all over his arms and legs. He was only 3 weeks old. How could parents do this to their child, hell, a 3 week old helpless baby?

My friend asked her girlfriend to leave her house because their relationship was over. This girl stole her computer, cameras, clothes, and an external hard drive with invaluable pictures. Some people are severely heartless.

I was told today that I am insane, crazy really and that "everyone" thinks that about me. Well, I don't know where to put that. I am not the most stable person I've ever met, but I am not insane. My friends don't seem to think I am insane. But I let it get inside me and hurt me. It breaks my heart. Always. Should I care? No. The people who think this don't matter to me. My heart hurts.

A co-worker's best friend drank a bottle of vodka, walked into the garage, started the car, and fell asleep. Was it suicide, was she going to drive somewhere and pass out? What was so wrong to make this happen?

Like I said, maybe it's the holidays or maybe most of us are simply insane. I can't figure it out and the more I try, the crazier I get. Maybe I am self-destructing. Just maybe. I don't know. I wish I knew.

It's just the way it is.

Ok, so on a less Emo note than my recent posts... I am over the withdrawal, now it's just about slight management. After all the yelling, the screaming, and crying. I am finally done with all of it. I look back now and am slightly relieved. The worst is over. It doesn't hurt anymore.

I finally can see that this entire thing isn't, nor has ever been about me. I am not saying I don't have a place in any of it. I am simply saying, her issues are hers, not mine. And I don't need to try and take them on. I don't need to save anyone but myself.

She's like a drug

She is like a drug. Sorry to sound like a horrible Kelly Clarkson song, but shit... I can't think of another analogy. The withdrawal phase is here now. I can't do anything about it but fight it out. I need to get over the muscle pain, headaches, and cold sweats, just like a drug addict needs to do in order to get clean and live a happier, healthier life.

Ok, so maybe my participation in AA makes me see life this way, but she is a drug, a comfort, a conflict, something that I have loved for so long. When it's time to let go, it isn't easy, but it must be done... for me. Having cut things off cold-turkey, I long for a text from her, a grin, a "hey, how you doing?" Alas, it never comes. It helps me to see everyday just how little I matter to her. It's a steep curve in a very long learning lesson.

I stopped crying about the situation last week. I'm not sad. I'm not shocked. However, I am sad and shocked. It's a balancing act of figuring out what is the best for me. Walking away sounds good, but it is so much easier said than done. That's just life right? Another drug I lunged onto and another drug I must peel myself away from. This process has never killed me before, nor will this. It just aches a little. Less than it ever has before. I'm on the right path, I just wish I could see the forest through the trees. Forest, where the fuck are you?

It aches

Yep, you guessed it. I mean my heart. It aches. Losing people in your life is hard. I'm at the point where I have no option but to walk away. Say good-bye after all these years. This is tougher than I thought it would be. No wonder I put it off for so long. But, alas, it is time to let go. This will be a good thing in the long run, or so I hope.

In my heart, I hurt. I feel torn apart and have a million emotions taking over my body: I am sad, angry, rageful, anxious, shattered, and perfect. I just need to hold onto letting go, and sit and watch it go. I have to hold on to letting go, no matter how much my heart is ripped apart. I have to follow through this time.

I hate that something that will be good for me in the long run, hurts so bad right now. I can make it through this pain. I've lost many things in this world and I can do this again. God grant me strength to make it without getting completely disheveled.

My heart on my sleeve

I can't stand it when I get like this. I become emotionally involved with a woman, who has NO intention of ever being with me or loving me. It's like a sick game I play with myself. Do I like the pain? Like, who the FUCK does what I do? I sit around contemplating constantly, knowing my brain is a hamster wheel that I have no idea how to stop. I don't want to think about her anymore. I don't want to dream about her. And I certainly don't want to see her out and about.

I am furious with myself for letting my emotions take over my rationality. It makes me so upset, it's like I watch it happening. I can see it coming from a mile away. I don't want to see her, but then she will sweet talk me for a little while, ask me to come hang out. I always go. I let my emotions drive my heart. I need to let her go. I have actually gotten down on my hands and knees and prayed, to a God I don't necessarily believe in, that my feelings for her would be taken away. I want them gone.

I watch my rationality slip away. It's like, my mind knows every twist and turn and every direction things will turn out. I know this is acurate and that I will only be let down. However, my heart comes in a swipes my rationality away. I struggle with not only finding the rational but on following through.

I don't know how many times I have said good-bye. At this point it's no longer a threat, it is just a God damn joke to her. But, I put myself in this situation. I've laid down in hell and decided to accept it. Welp, no more, man. I am tired and exhausted and so tired of crying. If I give all my energy away to one person, what's left? It's time I start focusing on the people who do matter in my world and even focusing on myself. I need to let go. I have to let go.

"God, grant me the serenity to accept the things I cannot change,
the courage to change the things I can,
and the wisdom to know the difference."

Someone help me, I'm trying to climb out of this black hole.

The Wedding Ring Game

Oooo, she's hot... I think to myself. I look down, boom, she has a wedding ring. All women these days who are attractive and worth looking at, seem to have wedding rings on. I find myself frustrated.

I'm frustrated, because I thought she was a homo. Nope, another straight girl. I think the older I get, the harder it is to figure out who is datable material. Women in their 30s start to cut their hair, wear comfortable clothes, and look more, well, gay. It's screwing up my ability to spot a gay.

Dang, that girl is cute! Oh, she has a husband, damn it. I mean, this just happened to me, minutes ago, in the coffee room. So, do I just continue to flirt with everyone in hopes one of them happens to like women and begins to fancy me, or do I stop flirting all together, because clearly these women aren't avaliable.

Damn those wedding rings. Damn the fact I can't get married. Damn the fact that gay people wear wedding rings at all. I hate the institution of marriage. I don't want to own another human being, to put a ring on her, to signal she is mine. But if everyone stopped wearing wedding rings, how would I have any clue who was avaliable and who was taken? But those damn rings, just a fucking joke, watching the gay community assimilate into the straight community. They long for acceptance...

I don't care about the acceptance. I'm sure at least once a day, someone sees me, thinks I'm gay, and doesn't approve. Well F that. C'est la vie. But if I look real close at this person, I bet you they are wearing that wedding ring. Sickening.

Sitting in the quiet.

Like always, my brain was running overtime.   I was tired of thinking, re-thinking, and thinking about it again.  So, I decided I was giving it too much energy, so I stopped.  I just stopped. Stopped talking, stopped wishing, stopped caring.  I was finally pushed too far.  It was all to abusive.  It had to end.  I watch myself now, should I text? No.  It'll only open up a dialogue not worth having.  I put the phone down.  

Used to being sent texts all day, every day, it is now quiet.  There is no more of a constant cringe every time my phone goes off.  I wasn't worried because I knew that everyone who would be contacting me wouldn't be writing to put me down.  It was a relief.  I sit now in the quiet, slightly uncomfortable and a little more anxious.  However, I seem to be smiling more and enjoying the world.  I think I forgot to see the beauty every day. 

Insurance Rage

Just like many people in this country, I am livid with my insurance company. Luckily, I am one of the many that does have insurance, thanks to my job. However, all insurance sucks. I finally get on meds to stabilize the crazy and now my insurance won't cover it? Correction, my Kaiser doctor, who said she'd do what my outside shrink wanted, now says that she won't do that.

Oh my god, no one wants to hear this shit, even me! I have bored myself just typing the first paragraph. Sick. A day of rage persists. As long as I can sit here quietly for another hour and a half and drive home without incident, all shall be fine.

Oh surgery, oh surgery, why does my heart make a fool of me...

Ok, I get it. "You're tough," "you'll be fine,""it'll be over and done with soon." I get it. So, please don't leave a comment of how I'm gunna be ok. I know I will. There is no other choice.

Am I nervous? Absolutely. I'm nervous about being out of work for 2-6 weeks and paying my bills. I'm nervous that the surgery won't work and I'll still be in pain, or more pain for that matter. I am torn, wanting to enjoy my time off but not being able to do anything. I am freaked out that the doctor prescribed me so many pain killers. I am an addict after all.

Luckily, I have a high pain tolerance. I sit through hours and hours of tattoos, have been pierced 13 times in my face and ears, and have lived with this shoulder pain for a while already. But, how bad is this going to hurt? I mean, 60 painkillers. Is that needed or is my doc just careless with his prescription pad? I don't think it is my surgeons neglect, I think I might actually need all of them. In that case... I am afraid of the pain that will be created.

I know, I know, shut up... I have a thousand different reasons to be optimistic. I am optimistic for the long run results. But, I needed to voice my fears, because the second I raise concern, people stop me to tell me how it'll all be ok. Let me finish my concerns, damn it! So, I vent here, even if it is to no one on an internet blog lost deep in cyberspace.

The Wedding

It was a beautiful wedding. The brides, the food, the scenery, the wind, the smiles, the love. It all worked. It was the most phenomenal wedding I've ever been to. I watched a beautiful couple supported by those around them, proclaim their love. It was truly one of the most incredible things I have ever been lucky enough to witness.

I think back at the wedding, only two days past, and I still tear up. I think of the raw emotion that was expressed by the guests, the brides, and myself. The feeling throughout the attendants was extreme, I've never been surrounded by so much love and support. I smiled and cried nearly the whole time. I cried for the love, their lives, the beauty, and for one of my best friends, who was finally so happy.

She and I had a kind of relationship that was a romantic friendship. In a way I'll always look at her differently, that she occupied a different part of my heart. We always knew we loved each other in our hearts, as very close friends. It was discussed many times. We filled a space for a moment in time for one another. I watched in the wings as she married the love of her life. It was beautiful.

My emotions played out far more than I ever realized they might. I am so happy for my friend, her partner, their son. Once again my cynical side has been blanketed by beauty. I, too, am happy.

San Francisco and Denver

Comparing these two cities is like comparing apples and oranges, hell, bananas and goats. They are so very different, but they both hold a place in my heart, not to be rallied by much more in this world. Both have played such an important role in my life. I have grown in both towns, laughed, cried, and have fallen madly in love.

I visit San Francisco now, as a visitor, as someone who is scoffed at when they say, I used to live here, but now I live in ..... enter whichever city you find fit. At the end of the day, the locals will look down on you. Wondering, how could you ever leave. Asking Denver!?! It's always posed as a question. Wondering, why would you ever leave a place like this for a city full off bulls, rodeos, and cowboy boots.

I say, my friend, while Colorado is a big state and every now and again you see a redneck driving his F250 down the highway, Denver isn't like that. Plus, did you miss the same exact scene pass you while we were on the bay bridge this morning on the way into San Francisco? Like I said, apples and oranges, tomaaato to-ma-to. It's cut throat here, even though a presence is maintained that this isn't the case.

It is true, one does leave their heart in San Francisco, well, part anyway. For now, the rest of my heart belongs in the country music singing, cowboy hat wearing, Colorado. Ok, totally kidding, I listen to indie music, wear converse and a baseball cap.

So Long Sweet Misery

Nope, these aren't my words, but I sure do feel this exact way, right now.

So Long Sweet Misery - Brett Dennen

So Long, my misery
I don't need you
you've only caused me grief
forgive me if I fall asleep
I haven't slept in centuries

Daylight lives like a burden for me
so I escape
sent it strewn about the street
beyond the ruins of my ancestry
far past the pages of my disbelief
I rose from my moat
like a ghost from a grave
sunken in the salty eyes of the wandering displaced
I was heading through the mist across the golden gate
all of my rebellions fall into the fog of fate

So long my misery
I don't need you
you've only caused me grief
forgive me if I fall asleep
I haven't slept in centuries

Spring time came again
and Icarus fell
I flew past the numb lipped nuns who'll never tell
the secrets of the sailors and their 7 year spell
I will not fall, nor will my wings ever melt
if I could I would wash all these wounds away
I would surround your room with a sense of mental grace
I would paint your portrait over everything mundane
more colorful than Easter Sunday

so long my misery
I don't need you
you've only caused me grief
forgive me if I fall asleep
I haven't slept in centuries

put me on a boat
leave my inhibitions at bay
my mind is spilling
but I haven't much to say
I was running through the canyons
pulse the echoes of your name
you were laughing at me like
the sun laughs at a flame
put me on a page in a book of beginnings
let me scroll me through old volumes of ancient teachings
let me reveal in all of these forgotten feelings
lay me with the wretched in the arms of my queen

so long sweet misery
I don't need you
you've only caused me grief
forgive me if I fall asleep
I haven't slept in centuries

no I haven't slept in centuries
I haven't slept in centuries

Loss

Today hurts. Yesterday was terrible. This job can be so difficult.

"Liz, Liz" I hear her yell, "Get Alison!"

I walk to Alison's desk and find her on the phone. I return "she is on the phone."

"I need her right now, I am walking a Dad through CPR on his kid, get her now!"

This time I run, explain it to Alison, and she hangs up the phone. We run back. The phone is put on speaker. We all stand around listening to this poor father giving CPR to his child, you can hear the scuffle as the EMTs enter the room. Click, the phone goes dead.

"Liz, get everyone to the Emergency Department, tell them to meet us there. This little boy is down and being brought to us."

The frantic rush begins. I start paging our transplant doctors, our social worker, our coordinators. I'm at the helm of the control center, making sure everyone knows this poor 6-year-old has arrested and is on his way in.

Everyone finally knows, my storm is over and their storm begins. When the child and his father finally arrive, it is clear the child is DOA. After continuing to work with on the child, time of death is called. Our Transplant doc has to go inform the father, who clearly falls apart. His wife has yet to arrive, on her way from Colorado Springs. Dad sits and waits, alone. Knowing he just lost his son. He doesn't call his wife because he doesn't want to tell her while she is driving.

I have the utmost respect for the people I work with on a daily basis. Our jobs are hard, hell, sometimes they are next to impossible. It is our job. We do it well. But we can't save everyone. It is a hard reality and an even harder reality to think what his family is going through. How does someone survive the loss of their child. I don't even have kids and I cannot imagine it.

Today is a somber day, with thoughts of the boy, his family, and the collective experience we all went through together. I wish him peace.

My New House

I am pleased to announce that my hunt for a house/desire to stay where I am at, has come to an end.  I found a brilliant row home 2 blocks from Sloans Lake.  The more I looked at places, the more I realized I didn't want to leave The Highlands or Sloans Lake.  So today, I narrowed my search and I found her. 

Despite the fact I had to leave work early after "losing my breakfast" in the many stalled bathroom, I found a place I had to see.  I walked, because it wasn't safe for me to drive.  When I got there, I knew I had arrived.  

I'll finally have a house, yes a row home, but I now have my own front porch, back yard, study, basement, dining room, etc.  I can finally use my dresser as a dresser, not as an entertainment center.  The cats can run around.  I can have an art studio and a woodworking shop!  And they'll be in different places.  I can have people over to hang out, to BBQ, to relax.  

Although I feel like psychical hell, I am happy in my heart.  Anyone who knows me can tell you that my house is my peace.  It is my sanctuary away from the world.  I can finally have all the things I've been hoping for.  I listened to the universe and it all came together.  And according to my August horoscope, today was the day I was to make a big decision and listen to my heart, knowing it will pan out. This is all part of the cleanse. 

The Summer of Quitting Carcinogenic Things

I have renamed my summer: The Summer of Quitting Carcinogenic Things. I am sure the title could be shortened or more intellectual, but at the end of the day, it is what it is. It's my title, of my reality, of my anguish, and of my smiles.

It's like a cleanse of all things that are/were killing me slowly and sucking my will to live. This includes several women, a hard-core tobacco addiction, my living situation, and all the pain that I live with in my heart. I need to feel lighter within my chest, both literally and figuratively.

I have asked women to leave my life, who put me down and slowly beat me into a lifestyle where I believed that my opinion was stupid. That I am an asshole, that even I should hate myself and that I am always wrong. Well, the pattern rears it's ugly head again. I have to figure out how to stop this. From now on, I want to be respected, to be shown loyalty, and to be able to count on people. It's ok if only a few people fit this role... but I already know many that do. Both my family and my chosen family. To them I am eternally grateful.

I would like to find a balance so my heart can feel less isolated. Because the truth is, I love deeply, purely, and easily, and that's a beautiful thing. Maybe the fact that I do wear my heart on my sleeve makes me experience too much pain. Or maybe I just like to take risks for love, for the gift of being alive. I want to be open without building a wall around my heart.

Now I've already quit the drinking, which has taught me a ton about myself. I have to actually deal with my emotions, I can't just drink them away anymore. That's been a serious learning experience. Now I have been cigarette free for over 2 weeks. A hell of a start. Am I extra irritable? Yes. Am I hacking up a lung? Yes. Am I all achy like I am getting the flu? Yes. Is it worth it to see the kids I dream of growing up? Yes. I smoked for 15 years. That's a long time when you are only 29.

My twenties are going out with a irritable, isolated, anxious bang. But, I did have a psychic who once told me years ago, "Your 30's are going to be brilliant. That is when things are going to get much happier for you." Here's to hopin' that outlook is in my cards.

Oh Ink Patience Don't Fail Me Now!

Every single day I want a tattoo... I am trying to be patient, as I am flying to San Francisco to get my tattoo finished at the end of September.  That shall cure my tattoo need and clean out my bank account pretty quick.  I guess that's what happens when you choose giant tats that take 15+ hours to finish.  

But there are so many ideas brewing in my mind.  I already have two ideas in my mind. I know what I will be adding next.  I still am unsure where, but that will come to me.  My other scare is that I have had all my work done by the same, brilliant man... so they all relate, look alike, and flow wonderfully.  Only problem, he is in San Francisco.  I now need to find a tattoo artist here in Denver.  A whole different feat in and of itself.

My brain will figure it out, but for now, I will try and remain, well, patient. 

It's never as easy as it looks

Painting, boy is it a joy to me. I sit down, and let things flow through me... how I feel, what I see, using colors that inspire me, staying away from those that give me rage that day. It is an experience that is priceless to me. I lose all track of time.

I want a studio where I can paint, finish my book, and learn to whittle. Or, hell, even a second bedroom. However, I have made a new rule. I do not paint for anyone, I paint for me. If you like a painting and I don't want to hang on to it, it's all yours.

I painted something for a friend. I spent hours reeling over what to paint and just how to get it right. It turned out beautifully, knowing it would make my friend smile. I like bringing joy to others. When I went to arrange a time to surprise her with it, because I know she is having a bad time lately, she said "I don't have time for that right now. I am too irritated." My initial reaction, FUCK YOU, you ungrateful bitch.

I didn't tell her I had to meet her today, I told her sometime. All of the sudden a brilliant painting became an object of heart ache to me. Why in the hell did I care to do it in the first place? Who is too irritated to accept a gift handmade by your "best friend"... which leads me to an entirely different discussion in my head if she is even my friend. Alas, I won't paint for anyone again. I paint for me because it is my peace.

The August Cleanse

No, this post won't be about my a recent colonoscopy I had, its about my lease being up, my bank account scaring the crap out of me, and the ability to be able quit.  

I took a risk and included a letter to my landlord with my last rent check, telling them I thought my apartment was overpriced due to my craigslist.org hunt-a-thon for a new place.  I found I'd love a washer and dryer and boy a dishwasher would be nice!  I was consistently torn between leaving my tree house in the sky for a different place with the amenities I needed, well wanted.  I searched and searched and after two viewings, a denial and an acceptance, I decided to stay up in the hut with the birds.  

The next day my phone rings.  It's my landlord.  Such a nice man.  He tells me that he talked with the bookkeeper and they could lower my rent $50 a  month.  I jumped on it.  I thanked him.  After we hung up, I was smiling and I noticed he is calling again.  He wanted to tell me thank you and that the only reason they could do this for me was because I was his only tenant who paid rent on time every single month.  Suddenly I felt better that my rent check hit my overdraft for a whopping $600.  

So, I am staying where I am and I am happy.  I took an afternoon and did 10 loads of laundry that had been accumulating on my floor.  I felt accomplished.  I started to redesign my apartment in my mind.  What could I move?  What can I rearrange?  With the help of my best friend in the entire world, we made a plan.  I called my sister and asked if she could help me rearrange one day.  

I asked her to help one day, because I know I have a lot of cleansing I need to do.  Books and clothes and shoes.... oh my.  The art is incredible, but things will change and move and the kits will learn to love it all over again.  But before one must rearrange a lot of furniture, a lot of shit needed to be hauled out.  

I just entered my closet, garbage bags in tow, and filled up 3 in less than 10 minutes.  I will drop them by Goodwill later this afternoon when I go water Dan's flowers.

On top of all this change and anxiety, I have quit smoking.  It's been 6 days.  I feel ok, I got the initial, my body quit smoking and now you will get sick, thing.  I wear my patch, which seems to help, as I found out when I forgot to wear one on Wednesday.  I thought quitting smoking would lower my tacky white trash level, but alas, it did not.  I now gnaw on toothpicks like it is my career.  Hopefully, this too shall pass. 

It's been a while

It sure has been a while since I have been here... and you know why? Cause I have been happy! I have a horrible habit of letting my journaling and blogging fall by the way side when I have a smile on my face.

Maybe it's because people like to write to bitch, because of intense emotions, pain, willingness, drive... I would feel bizarre right now talking about how life is all sunshine and roses. When you describe how good things can get, it can appear to the outside that you are bragging. I don't want to brag. I just want to inform all you real people behind your computer screens, that I am actually pretty damn thrilled about things lately.

This is a pretty high high after all that was so low. I mean, I have a good job, a cozy house, a supportive family and friends...and don't forget those adorable kittens. Now I have found the perfect addition, something that brings the biggest of smiles to my face. I finally got the girl. The wonderful, kind, silly, compassionate, sexy woman that holds my heart and makes things happen in my pants. I smile as I write this sentence.

You know, she loves me. I love her. Once again, I am afraid to put all my eggs in one basket. I fear they all might shatter. I've been there before. Alas, I think this lady is different. Only time will tell. Right Buzz?

Closing

At the end of a memorial service, this was read. Brilliant.

When I die, give what’s left of me away to children
And to old men that wait to die.

And if you need to cry,
Cry for your brother walking the street beside you.

And when you need me,
Put your arms around anyone and give them what you need to give to me.

I want to leave you something,
Something better than words or sounds.

Look for me in the people I’ve known or loved,
And if you cannot give me away, at least let me live in your eyes and not on your mind.

You can love me most by letting hands touch hands,
By letting bodies touch bodies,
And by letting go of children that need to be free.

Love doesn’t die, People do.
So, when all that‘s left of me is love, Give me away

by Merrit Malloy

It opens up

The world is a vast expanse of nothingness, spanning as far as the eye can see. No one gives a damn where I have wandered to. I don't give a damn.

The phone rings, "Hello?"
"Hello" I repeat.
"What are you doing?"
I blank, I have no idea.

I sit puzzled. What am I doing? I have absolutely no idea. I look around. The television is on, but the sound is off. I sit in a strange upright position that is unfamiliar to me. I can't remember thinking about anything. It was if I had no idea. I had lost that unknown amount of time. It was just gone.

I'd like to fancy myself and say I was on a higher spiritual plane through meditation, but I can't prove that is the case. I wasn't meditating at all. Just sitting. Finally silent. It is the first time in my life I can ever remember my brain doing nothing.

The anxiety was gone for that brief moment. It was incredible.

Oh what a night...

late December back in '63. Ok, fast forward mid-February back in '09. Just doesn't have the same ring, does it?

Today we sat and watched the head of medical cardiac transplant cry. A man who sees death on a weekly basis. We sat silently as he cried for his dying mentor. For a man who has done so much for pediatric heart transplant. A man dying before his time of cancer. He will be gone in an approximated month and morbidly we sit around discussing how we will tell the patients he saw here. We all cried, some because of their respect and love for their mentor, others for unexplained reasons, and me for the pain of my mentor.

In 22 minutes a funeral will begin for one of our patients that passed away last week. I glanced down at my shoes as I said good-bye to the nurses who were off to attend the funeral. Afraid to look them in the eye because there is nothing to say. Nothing to do. Another good-bye.

I picked up my phone and checked a message I received while watching my boss cry. It was my personal doctor. She is concerned with my lab results and would like me to come in for an invasive procedure. Worried I may be bleeding inside. Nothing that will kill me, just another scare. Another irritation. Another worry.

Today is a hard day.

Wading Through the Psychological Sludge

Walking along, feeling free, at peace with myself, head held high... enjoying the beauty that is around me. My steps are lighter and I move quicker across the ground. I hear the water that is so very calming to me. I daydream about things to come, the love I will feel, the smell of the concrete after it rains. The world is beautiful, my mind is at peace.

Beep, beep...

Wrenched out of my peace, I pick up the phone, glance at the screen and am covered in a shower of thick, black, sticky psychological sludge. It covers everything, pollutes the river, drips from the trees. It is hard to move, difficult to breathe. My chest is thick as my anxiety starts to rise. The inner peace fades from sight. My feet no longer glide across the concrete; there is a thick layer of muck...hard to wade through.

The layer of psychological sludge is not as heavy as last time, but I still need to clean it up. Shake it off the trees, remove it from the river, and work, work hard to make everything beautiful again. It's doable but the sludge is tiring, it is draining my energy, trying to take away my self-worth... making my heartbeat weaken and my walls start building back up.

I have to be quick to clean, not to let it stick to everything for too long or it will become permanent, polluting the peace and the beauty around me. I must move fast, the sludge doesn't get to win. Someone hand me a squeegee, please. Oh shit, I'll get it myself.

Living under water

My head is heavy... water fills my brain. On an ocean, it makes me sick to my stomach. My head is cloudy, floating in the tides, weathering the ebb and flow, the ups and downs. I want to get off this boat. It doesn't agree well with me. But, I can't get off this boat. It is my life, it is in my head. My feet are on solid ground but the world around me sways. I want off this boat before I get sick. I try to remain calm because panicking will only make it worse. Breathe, focus, be still. How can I be still and quiet and lay down when I am at work? It can't happen.

Maybe I will close my eyes and start to believe that I am simply on a boat, on a fishing trip, it is part of the journey. My life will be one long fishing trip in which the rest of my existence is a dream. Sometimes It feels like I am watching someone brush their teeth and do the dishes but then I have a moment when I realize it is me, it is my life... before you know it I am right back watching myself again. Right back on my life long fishing trip.

Anger in it's evolution

I am not a big fan of anger as an emotion. I find it to be draining, time consuming, and wasteful. However, today I am whole-heartedly enjoying the anger I feel in my heart. I am finding it as a tool for closure, for relief, to set boundaries, and to learn to love myself again. Figuring out slowly that after many relationships of being beaten down, worn away, and treated like shit, I started to actually believe that I was the worthless nothing they all told me I was.

This internal rage is making me wake up and see that I am not shit, I am a good person with a good heart, who puts my all into everything I do, say, and feel. I don't deserve the shit these women have put me through and I have allowed myself to go through. NO. I don't. I won't take it anymore! I am tired of letting women wound me and then dump massive amount of salt into the gapping sores.

If I don't start to grow and to set boundaries where this is not allowed, it will only happen again. I will attract another woman and let her abuse me verbally and mentally and be seduced into believing her lies. I will once again be afraid to leave, even if I am miserable.

I will move forward and upward, regaining my self-esteem, believing all the good things that my friends see in me, and smile a whole lot more. Today I feel weighed down but very free. It is a feeling I cannot descibe with words, it just is.

I'm grateful for my insanity.

As I stood at the coffee counter this morning waiting for her to pour my morning addiction, it comes over me that I have forgotten my wallet. Do I think, damn it! How will I pay for this coffee? No, never crosses my mind. I panic thinking about how I just drove to work without my ID, how I can ask Kirsten to pay for our lunch maybe and I'll pay her back...all while I pat all my pockets in disbelief that I did this. Mind you, at the same time, I am paying the woman for my coffee as I freak out. Where did that money come from? From my wallet that was in my hands. I returned the wallet to my pocket without thinking about it and continued to freak out. About 100 yards later it hit me that I was just a dumb ass. My insanity never fails to keep me amused.

On a slightly different, still slightly insane note, I am finding peace and happiness with the universe today. Man, just when I was so down and out, broken hearted, with low self-esteem, beaten to a pulp and wanted to just give up, I find it just isn't that simple. After some serious reading and Liz getting her life back together time, through lots of crying and fears and re-establishment of new boundaries, Enter, new friend-old soul, who lives over 1000 miles away. I have entered into a realm I am not used to but am seeming to embrace and adore. This beautiful woman feels like a soul who I have connected with in many, many past lives. One that I have loved and cared for before my body ever formed. A soul that is comfortable with me and in me. It is a very good and strange, longed for kind of a feeling. Like I have spent this life, thus far, searching for this soul...being tricked into thinking I have found it time and time again, only to realize I was trying to make the other souls into the soul I wanted to find.

By no means am I packing up my bags and moving 1000 miles away, and I don't feel I need too. I have finally found this soul again and it makes me calm, happy, maybe even a little complete, even from a distance. I adore that she wants what I want in this life... but I feel this is so much larger than that.