Tuesday, April 30, 2013

The Years the Locust Ate

“Anne, I don't want to live. . . . Now listen, life is lovely, but I Can't Live It. I can't even explain. I know how silly it sounds . . . but if you knew how it Felt. To be alive, yes, alive, but not be able to live it. Ay that's the rub. I am like a stone that lives . . . locked outside of all that's real. . . . Anne, do you know of such things, can you hear???? I wish, or think I wish, that I were dying of something for then I could be brave, but to be not dying, and yet . . . and yet to [be] behind a wall, watching everyone fit in where I can't, to talk behind a gray foggy wall, to live but to not reach or to reach wrong . . . to do it all wrong . . . believe me, (can you?) . . . what's wrong. I want to belong. I'm like a jew who ends up in the wrong country. I'm not a part. I'm not a member. I'm frozen.”
― Anne SextonAnne Sexton: A Self-Portrait in Letters

Joel 2:25 I will restore to you the years the swarming locust has eaten.
"I want to belong.  I'm like a jew who ends up in the wrong country.  I am not a part.  I'm not a member.  I am frozen."  Uncertainty surrounds everything about my existence.  Its too much.  Nothing.  No area of my life is stable.  It can't be counted on.  Not in terms of my heart.  Rolling the dice on that one. Not in terms of my job.  What job? Not my health.  When is that next depressive episode gonna hit?  I have triggers, People.  Things I am so scared of happening that the thoughts paralyze me.  And every night, I pray "let this year be better, please God, let it not hurt this time."  Aren't I suppose to have more faith than this?  Why is it easier for some people?   Its not fair.  They don't have to try half as hard.  And because I am too tired to pray for myself, my friend prays for me: "Give back the years the locust ate."  

Monday, April 29, 2013

Me and Stevie Nicks: Don't Cha Look Back

Don't stop thinkin' about tomorrow.  Ooooooo  Don't cha look back.

All I want is to see you smile if it takes just a little while. I know you don't believe that its true.  I never meant any harm to you.

If case its not completely obvious, I will now and forever love Fleetwood Mac.  And one of my particular favorites is their song "Don't Stop" performed Live with the USC Marching Band.  Oh, Guys, it gets me ALL worked up.  Maybe the reason I love that particular song so much is...well...I have spent most of my life looking forward.  Reminding myself this too shall pass.  My past isn't anything I'd like to relive.  Nope, none of it.  Thus, when I look back, I seize up.  Fear takes hold.  The prospect of loving and caring about other people is akin to death.  I simply cannot afford that type of hurt again.  Relationships can be triggers.  I hate triggers.  But will I have a future if I block those I love out?  Or at least, a future worth looking forward to?  I've got two choices: A.) Lock myself away and stop caring B.) Leave the past where it belongs and don't stop thinkin' about tomorrow.



Sunday, April 28, 2013

Me, Mario, and the Coffee Bean

Nina: What happened?

Isabel: He said I wasn't human and he waved a tree branch at me.

Nina: There must be a solution.

Isabel: No, we are at the Coffee Bean, and there is no solution.

Yours Truly, like everyone else, I suppose, is plagued with unsolvable problems.  Oh, ain't life grand?  Gawd, I need a warp whistle, right now.  Similar to Isabel in Bewitched, this Doe-Eyed Gal romanticized issues of the heart.  Fantasized about how she would "sit at the Coffee Bean" with her friends and discuss "our unsolvable problems."  Like Sex in the City, right?  Carrie's gotta wait on Mr. Big.  How chic.  And it never occurred to me that those kinds of problems lack romance.  Problems hurt.  Hearts, once involved, hold on longer and tighter than we realized.  Its one big sticky mess.  Don't get me wrong.  "I'm fine really.  I mean, last night, I ate three burritos and smashed every dish in my house."

My only comfort comes from Bowser: The Journey is the Destination.  Maybe I will someday appreciate a Boss Fight...and the Snow World.

Saturday, April 27, 2013

Journey: Don't Stop Believin'

My entire existence is up in the air right now.  Everything I want and desire is a maddening maybe so in honor of that, here's a little Journey to make me feel better.

Thursday, April 25, 2013

Not the Hell "Your" Whale

Spock: They like you very much, but they are not the hell "your" whales.

Dr. Gillian Taylor: I suppose they told you that.

Spock: The hell they did

I am not the hell "your" whale.  Have you ever wanted to say that to someone?  People are forever attempting to fix me.  (Maybe its because I smile a lot.  Its like an invitation to a personal tweaking.)  Okay, not all People.  Not the ones I love and talk to everyday.  They are wonderful and I adore them so if you're reading this, then know you're the cat's pajamas.  Yeah, I said it. And I'll even be your whale, at least part of the time.  Maybe a Star Whale like in Doctor Who. That'd be cool.  But I COULD let children cry, not You Guys though.  I wouldn't let you cry if I could help it. But I've digressed and lost my train of thought.   Anyway, we were talking about Pushy, Nosey Neighbors. You cannot rid yourself of these types.  Trying to polish me.  Correct my mistakes.  Tweak me.  Make me more like them.  And Gawd, but nothing is worse than becoming someone's "Project."  Cause here's the deal: You either love someone flaws and all, or, ya don't.  Whether that is a plutonic or a romantic love, giving another person the space to make their own choices is the bare minimum you should do for everyone.  And on that note, because I am too much of a pushover to say it in person: I am not the hell your whale.  

Sunday, April 21, 2013

Spock, McCoy, and Me: Had A Bad Day

I had a Bad Day, Folks.   That's right, some Jackass walked into the coffee shop I was working in.  Shit all over my world.  Then walked out sipping his frozen hot chocolate and grinning.  The Bastard.  He accused me of being out of my Vulcan Mind.  Well, that I may be but, I'm not going ANYWHERE, Asshole.  So get used to it.  Vulcans don't bluff!

Friday, April 19, 2013

Ring of Fire

On Tuesday, the psychiatrist doubled my mood stabilizers.  Yep, doubled em'.  I am that fucked up.  And here's the problem: Until the lamotringe and abilify even me out I am a teary mess.  The extra chemical soup swimming through my veins amplifies everything: Love, Passion, Fear, and Despair blare from my person hitting innocent bystanders and deserving bastards, alike.  It scares me.  The veil that is suppose to keep our hearts hidden has been torn away for the time.  I am vulnerable.  Its a dangerous place to be.  What if I let something big slip?  What if I say everything I am feeling?  The consequences could be dire.  "I fell into a burnin' ring of fire."

Thursday, April 18, 2013

Roll Away Your Stone: Mumford and Sons

"Stars hide your fires.  These here are my desires. And I won't give them up to you this time around."  

In Waking, From Her Nerves, and in Sleep, From Her Dreams

“My sleep wasn't peaceful, though. I have the sense of emerging from a world of dark, haunted places where I traveled alone.”  (Suzanne Collins)  Maybe its the new medication.  Maybe its reality hitting me like a freight train.  Or maybe I am just delusional, but a week of continual nightmares has left me a teary mess. Why, you ask?  Well, I'll tell you: In every dream, I am lonely, heartbroken, and scared.  I search for someone but to no avail.  I am lost and won't be found.  The reason you ask: I am Vampir.  Blood sucking.  Life destroying.  Dead.  Whoever the real Jennifer was got lost in the disease.  No one else can bear up under the weight of me.  The dreams have become so crippling I am afraid to sleep.  “Even if she be not harmed, her heart may fail her in so much and so many horrors; and hereafter she may suffer--both in waking, from her nerves, and in sleep, from her dreams.” ~Bram Stoker, Dracula.

Friday, April 12, 2013

Lean On Me


"Lean on me."  A friend once told me she was so joyous after passing her doctoral exams she felt guilty for feeling so happy to which a colleague replied: "Don't worry this too shall pass."  Point of that story, you ask?  Struggling is just a part of life.  Every mountain top is followed by a valley.  It sucks.  But there it is.  However, today, I was reminded it only takes a kind word from someone I adore to ease the load.  No, seriously.  My control seeking outlook changed drastically today.  After that interaction, I stared at my sliced up arm and vowed to stop cutting.  Now, will I probably mess up now and again?  Sure, but the desire to stop is there.  Because someone special took the time to say: I care.    

Tuesday, April 9, 2013

From Rolls Back to Curves, Baby

Um...I'm gonna say it.  In the last few months, I've kinda blown up...like Shamoo.   Eating cookies, cakes, hamburgers, cheeseburgers, baby seals.  Whatever caught my fancy, really.  Thus, this morning I woke up and realized summer is coming and...damn woman.  Look at you! Now, listen there is nothing wrong with a curvy girl but this particular girl has a few rolls where her curves outta be.  Thus, for the next six months, I will give a weekly weight update and picture (face only because my phone isn't smart).  Hold on.  Hold on.  NO.  I will not tell you what I weigh.  A lady never tells, but I will update whether I lost or gained and how much.  And for every comment I get, I'll do 20 extra minutes on the treadmill and for every like I will do 10 (comment and like please..I think)  From Rolls back to Curves, Baby!

Tuesday, April 2, 2013

You Saw No Fault

So give me hope in the darkness 
That I will see the light
Cause ooohh they gave such a fright
But I will hold on with all of my might
Just promise we'll be alright

"You saw no fault.  No cracks in my heart.  You knelt beside my world torn apart."  There is something truly wrong with me and I don't know how to fix it.  Or even make it better.  It is as though I have moved past despair and into acceptance: Jennifer is Fucked Up.  And that's okay.  Except I am cutting.  Slicing.  Making marks.  When I am not branding myself,  it takes every inch of my will power to keep from spending money.  To bounce from shop to shop like a pin ball.  Offering cash and getting a momentary fix.  A high.  I want to beg for help.  To plead.  To say: "Please look beyond the cracks and the scars."  But I can't.  So I sit silent.  Still making my mark.  Never getting enough.  Never feeling full and satisfied.  Because that's the catch: No one can be EVERYTHING.  Satisfaction lies within yourself.  Security is something personal not handed off.  But despite my knowing all that, right now, I really want to that hand to hold.