So it's kind of true that I blog when I'm bummed. It's like a word teddy bear, something to sooth the sad. I'm not sure I trust my compulsions right now, because they seem to be causing me pain. But I believe in obeying them... I should explain compulsion, it's more this deep, maybe innate feeling. Like when you know that you can't do something because the voice inside you says "No". Same thing with "Yes", too. That part of me, the part I think is the innate me, can't email Andy tonight. And that scares me...
Anyway, I plowed through most of the crap I store in the closet in the basement. Each time I purge more. It's kind of funny how it just takes time to let go of things, the last time I went in I purged then too, but still couldn't let go of certain things. So it goes, each time there are things that I hold and hesitate over. Hesitation generally leads to holding on a while longer. But it also probably means eventually that thing will go, just not yet. I shouldn't call it crap, granted a lot of it would accurately be called crap by most sane people. But I've made peace with the fact that I'm not. A fair amount of what is in there is my history, too. My past. It doesn't go back to the beginning, but it goes back to when I was cognizant enough to start saving. There's always a few "why the fuck's" in the closet, as in why the fuck have I been saving this for so long?
There is a radar on in me of late, it's big and it ceaselessly scans for an answer, my answer... Because I don't feel I know myself right now, which makes it impossible to know what I want or need... Or to trust what presents as a want or a need. I keep consuming things, like an insatiable beast, for some sense of peace and conclusion. I don't know what to make of it. What is wrong with me? Is my judgement merely clouded? Happens easily enough. I half believe it is. I'm not trusting right now, and I really need to. I need that optimism to press on...
Something that is intriguing me is I have found myself sleeping on my stomach a lot. It is a sign to me that I am seeking comfort (I think of a very specific nature- which I haven't worked out what that is.) Balled up on your side, legs tucked into your chest is the most common position people get into to feel better, the womb position. But me, it's lying on my belly. I think I have an inkling. I think it's a letting go thing. On your back is stiff, holding on, either side too, a sort of holding on, but prostrate on the tummy is the ultimate release. And man do I sleep well like that. Kills my neck, unfortunately, otherwise I'd sleep like that all the time. When I sleep on my back I feel like a good puritan, totally self contained and well behaved. I hate that feeling.
Will I be able to get a job in NY? I'm a bit depressed over that. It's a bit early to be so morose about it. But I can't seem to stop thinking that. I'm gonna check craigslist...
Tuesday, May 27, 2008
Wednesday, May 14, 2008
not too much to say...
It almost wasn't pub night tonight, very close call. When I got there Kurt was outside smoking a cigarette and showed me a text he was just about to send me saying Joe had showed up uninvited. I was bummed because that meant I was just going to turn around and drive home. While standing outside with Kurt Joe emerged and announced he was heading home. I had this brief fear that he planned to stand outside with us. I surprised myself, I was cold, ice cold bitch Sarah. Usually a sense of guilt and pity outweighs any personal distain I may have for someone. There was a twinge, but no more. He was perhaps the recipient of all my pent up anger and grumpiness from the week. Not that me in that state is so very intense.
I think the salt stuff we have to put in our water is hard on my hair, it feels coarse and dry which is hugely unusual. I can't imagine the stuff is good for our bodies in general, and especially for ingestion. It's like slime, the texture feels like I still have soap on me or shampoo, like it will never rinse out.
I had an interesting experience with a guy that came in to the library today (experience is too strong a word). We just watched each other the whole time from a distance, it was kind of fun. He looked like a built Toby Maguire. The last time we saw each other was passing on the stairs at closing, and again we just looked.
Going to bed with beer and onion rings in my stomach probably isn't the healthiest thing, but that is generally the case on Wednesday nights. (Usually fries, though.) I suddenly feel very sleepy...
I think the salt stuff we have to put in our water is hard on my hair, it feels coarse and dry which is hugely unusual. I can't imagine the stuff is good for our bodies in general, and especially for ingestion. It's like slime, the texture feels like I still have soap on me or shampoo, like it will never rinse out.
I had an interesting experience with a guy that came in to the library today (experience is too strong a word). We just watched each other the whole time from a distance, it was kind of fun. He looked like a built Toby Maguire. The last time we saw each other was passing on the stairs at closing, and again we just looked.
Going to bed with beer and onion rings in my stomach probably isn't the healthiest thing, but that is generally the case on Wednesday nights. (Usually fries, though.) I suddenly feel very sleepy...
Tuesday, May 13, 2008
food in blue
Blue is at present the best color to describe me. I am very fond of it; blue is soft and calming and has been the most beautiful color to me for many years. It is seductive, charming and hard to let go of, but I feel I really need to. I need to shift into a happier color, a happier place. (I know just the color too, it's been runner up for a little over a year now, that faithful best friend sitting on the sidelines of my life) Yellow. Because yellow is intensely alive, friendly, but at the same time can still have that aura of peace and comfort. I think, as a dose of self-therapy, the next room I paint should be yellow. It will be hard, because I know in my heart I am still faithful to blue. Instead of creating the living environment of numbing emotions into a state of total rest maybe I can jump start some life into my everyday. Good morning yellow! Rise and shine, really. I keep thinking of this really adorable young man that helped me and my mom with our paint a month or so ago. We got to talking about colors and our favorites and how they reflected personality. He was very alive, chipper, upbeat and he said his favorite color was yellow "zing". Said like a caffeine jolt.
So frustration still reigns. I'm doing this on-a-day-to-day-basis thing with feelings right now and it's hard. But I can do it, there is resolution in that at any rate. But it doesn't mean pain is extricated from my circumstances or outlook. It is very much there, pain, pain, pain. That makes it sound like it's really intense and it isn't. More what I mean is I have resigned myself to the certainty of pain. To the reality of its presence in life, even everyday life at times. For the most part pain has become a very bearable part of my life but I'm still not excited about going through it. I think pain is the result of turmoil, a state in which something desired can not be experienced. And the absence of resolution as an option. I thought about giving examples, but I really don't feel like it. Right now what I desire is to go to NY under a certain condition, under certain circumstances, in leu of certain things having happened and I am experiencing pain right now because I don't see that as happening and I'm anticipating some anxiety in the transition phase. Me getting used to my new life. Because that is what it will be. I think to some degree I'm thinking about what it will be like too much and causing myself unnecessary pain in that respect. (done that many times before, cast many a long shadow over a future that should have been completely open in my mind. But there I was dooming it.) Not that I'm dooming my future in new york, but some of my thoughts are pretty pathetic, like- I won't be in the sort of circumstances to make my own friends, all I will have will be John's which means I'll end up being this sad loner who sits in her apartment doing art all day or reading books (Not that that is such a bad prospect, I, in fact, love both of those things.) But I want to have a community, my own community where I at least marginally fit in and find satisfaction in my friendships and interactions. I rather hope for some romantic relationships too, they don't have to be perfect or _the_ one of all ones, but I think a change from five years of single status would be more than welcome. (okay, there have been three brief semi-romantic experiences in those five years.) But it's been a big draught!
I was satisfactorily productive today, I finally dismantled the remainder of fence pieces. Which, in all honesty, are pretty disgusting and involve some of the more repulsive attributes of nature, like rot, unidentifiable insect nests or formations with gooey residue, suspicious colors, dead things... Oh, and of course, a plethora of rusted out nails that make me hope, hope, hope that my tetanus shot is, in fact, up to date. I also finally conquered a pile of newspapers that had mounted in a corner of my room for what has been pretty nearly a year now. The oldest one I found was from August, heh. I did not tell my grandparents on the phone tonight that I will be moving to NY next month. I just really didn't want to. I think on some level I expected it to be trouble, but in reality how much trouble could it really be? They don't actually have any power or influence over what I do. And that is the first time I've reflected on that truth and recognized it. It's almost sad, like they are excluded from any true importance in my life. Man, now I'm just making myself sad. Oh god, relationships can have so many depressing aspects.
Is there anything else I wanted to process? Of course part of that unspoken desire-of-certain-circumstances is him. I realize I have specific wants that aren't likely to get met. And the ultimate question is how do I actually want to handle my side of things. And here enters the working on feeling out moment by moment, being patient and actually waiting to hear from myself. In time I generally do, maybe not as soon as I expected or was hoping, but I hear. I think what is in the way is the pain right now, grief. I think that has to run its course and then the next phase will present itself. Which I have some suspicion about, but don't think my radar is right. That would line up more with ideal me than actual me. Ideally I wanted to see him each weekend up til my last. That would have been the heart of on-my-terms. But instead it seems completely up in the air, maybe I won't see him again, maybe I won't even tell him about leaving, not because I choose not to, to just abandon him, but rather because it becomes moot and there is no point in sharing because I don't see him again.
He is too old, not physically but mentally, culturally. There is a huge gap between our lives and I feel like I have fallen into it, my own rabbit hole. It's amazing to see how some one can use something so simple as language to communicate, indirectly of course, disapproval or approval. Down to a greeting, the difference between a Hi- and a Hey you-. One instantly is formal, distancing and businesslike, the other personal, expressing a sense of intimacy between writer and reader, affectionate. Like trying to train a dog, your behavior is meant to be the indicator for what is acceptable in their own and what isn't. He is attempting to train me. Sigh. This dog is reflective and thinking. There is the double layer of my own agenda, in so far as the concessions I make are to serve my own interests or purposes... In the end I choose autonomy too. As deeply as it is possible for me to go. He is another last minute man, which is an indication to me that the prospect of being with me isn't hugely important, it is put off, no pressure. I have played that game with other men too and I don't like it. It is time for it to end, which probably means not being in relationships with those kinds of men anymore.
I haven't had dinner, I should eat.
So frustration still reigns. I'm doing this on-a-day-to-day-basis thing with feelings right now and it's hard. But I can do it, there is resolution in that at any rate. But it doesn't mean pain is extricated from my circumstances or outlook. It is very much there, pain, pain, pain. That makes it sound like it's really intense and it isn't. More what I mean is I have resigned myself to the certainty of pain. To the reality of its presence in life, even everyday life at times. For the most part pain has become a very bearable part of my life but I'm still not excited about going through it. I think pain is the result of turmoil, a state in which something desired can not be experienced. And the absence of resolution as an option. I thought about giving examples, but I really don't feel like it. Right now what I desire is to go to NY under a certain condition, under certain circumstances, in leu of certain things having happened and I am experiencing pain right now because I don't see that as happening and I'm anticipating some anxiety in the transition phase. Me getting used to my new life. Because that is what it will be. I think to some degree I'm thinking about what it will be like too much and causing myself unnecessary pain in that respect. (done that many times before, cast many a long shadow over a future that should have been completely open in my mind. But there I was dooming it.) Not that I'm dooming my future in new york, but some of my thoughts are pretty pathetic, like- I won't be in the sort of circumstances to make my own friends, all I will have will be John's which means I'll end up being this sad loner who sits in her apartment doing art all day or reading books (Not that that is such a bad prospect, I, in fact, love both of those things.) But I want to have a community, my own community where I at least marginally fit in and find satisfaction in my friendships and interactions. I rather hope for some romantic relationships too, they don't have to be perfect or _the_ one of all ones, but I think a change from five years of single status would be more than welcome. (okay, there have been three brief semi-romantic experiences in those five years.) But it's been a big draught!
I was satisfactorily productive today, I finally dismantled the remainder of fence pieces. Which, in all honesty, are pretty disgusting and involve some of the more repulsive attributes of nature, like rot, unidentifiable insect nests or formations with gooey residue, suspicious colors, dead things... Oh, and of course, a plethora of rusted out nails that make me hope, hope, hope that my tetanus shot is, in fact, up to date. I also finally conquered a pile of newspapers that had mounted in a corner of my room for what has been pretty nearly a year now. The oldest one I found was from August, heh. I did not tell my grandparents on the phone tonight that I will be moving to NY next month. I just really didn't want to. I think on some level I expected it to be trouble, but in reality how much trouble could it really be? They don't actually have any power or influence over what I do. And that is the first time I've reflected on that truth and recognized it. It's almost sad, like they are excluded from any true importance in my life. Man, now I'm just making myself sad. Oh god, relationships can have so many depressing aspects.
Is there anything else I wanted to process? Of course part of that unspoken desire-of-certain-circumstances is him. I realize I have specific wants that aren't likely to get met. And the ultimate question is how do I actually want to handle my side of things. And here enters the working on feeling out moment by moment, being patient and actually waiting to hear from myself. In time I generally do, maybe not as soon as I expected or was hoping, but I hear. I think what is in the way is the pain right now, grief. I think that has to run its course and then the next phase will present itself. Which I have some suspicion about, but don't think my radar is right. That would line up more with ideal me than actual me. Ideally I wanted to see him each weekend up til my last. That would have been the heart of on-my-terms. But instead it seems completely up in the air, maybe I won't see him again, maybe I won't even tell him about leaving, not because I choose not to, to just abandon him, but rather because it becomes moot and there is no point in sharing because I don't see him again.
He is too old, not physically but mentally, culturally. There is a huge gap between our lives and I feel like I have fallen into it, my own rabbit hole. It's amazing to see how some one can use something so simple as language to communicate, indirectly of course, disapproval or approval. Down to a greeting, the difference between a Hi- and a Hey you-. One instantly is formal, distancing and businesslike, the other personal, expressing a sense of intimacy between writer and reader, affectionate. Like trying to train a dog, your behavior is meant to be the indicator for what is acceptable in their own and what isn't. He is attempting to train me. Sigh. This dog is reflective and thinking. There is the double layer of my own agenda, in so far as the concessions I make are to serve my own interests or purposes... In the end I choose autonomy too. As deeply as it is possible for me to go. He is another last minute man, which is an indication to me that the prospect of being with me isn't hugely important, it is put off, no pressure. I have played that game with other men too and I don't like it. It is time for it to end, which probably means not being in relationships with those kinds of men anymore.
I haven't had dinner, I should eat.
Friday, May 9, 2008
intoxication of rain
I have a migraine and I've been exhausted for days (it doesn't help that I've been going to bed pretty late and waking up early.) But I feel really excited about tomorrow. I'm going to meet with a professional illustrator who has an agent, show him my work and learn about the business. Hopefully this will get me started on a path to professional illustrating, god that would be amazing! It's interesting how much I have to prod myself. The whole object at rest thing. I get into this groove that is familiar and each time some new factor is introduced I have to work to integrate it, really work. I knew I had to go for this, and it's funny how much I just wanted to shy away and not do anything. How resistant I was inside. I also new I had to do it promptly, not wait. I did it! I just made the weirdest connection in my mind, between body image and art image. The feeling that I am really proud of my work and I think it's really good, but I know it isn't perfect and there is a slight hesitation when showing it to new people, how will they react? Will it pass? I guess I do that with my body too... But underneath the concern I know that I approve of it, no matter what anyone else thinks. (My body, too.)
I really want to be productive, start getting ready for the move, but I want to take it easy with myself since I'm not feeling stellar. (Plus I've never bled so heavily in my life and every period takes its toll.) All these transitions at once, it's a little overwhelming. But I'm not scared, I was last time- in October. I guess I realized that I can get sick, or crash from time to time and that's okay, I'll be okay, I'll get through it, it will pass. Always does. I just need to take care of myself through each step.
I want the sun to come back. But something funny I realized today at work is the only time I go to the windows to look out is when it rains. There is some special quality about the sound of heavy rain all over the building but also just pounding the grass, making all the new green growth look even lusher and casting this warm yellow tint over everything. It's so peaceful, meditative. I gravitate towards those large windows over looking the woods on most sides. Even past the parking lot, the whole place is surrounded by trees. I love the green roofs too, full of small sedum plants. It's funny how along the entire stretch of overhang the sedum's don't grow, I guess they don't like cover. It makes the plants look like they are all huddling together towards the open air and the outer edges of the roof. Hut, hut, hut, hut. (or is it hup?) Or clustering together for warmth and comfort, sad little plants! The computer room window shades were drawn today, the first time I've _ever_ seen them drawn. As soon as I rounded the corner from the stairs it was the first thing I noticed and I gasped. It was beautiful, finally the whole library extended out on all sides. A panorama of new green, just full from corner to corner with leaves.
I gave notice! May is it, no more paging. It's sad because I loved paging before I came back. I don't love it anymore. Maybe that's a good thing, I got to close that door all the way! I won't go off to other things thinking, I miss paging, too bad it pays so poorly.
That's it, I feel revived, I'm off to be productive.
I really want to be productive, start getting ready for the move, but I want to take it easy with myself since I'm not feeling stellar. (Plus I've never bled so heavily in my life and every period takes its toll.) All these transitions at once, it's a little overwhelming. But I'm not scared, I was last time- in October. I guess I realized that I can get sick, or crash from time to time and that's okay, I'll be okay, I'll get through it, it will pass. Always does. I just need to take care of myself through each step.
I want the sun to come back. But something funny I realized today at work is the only time I go to the windows to look out is when it rains. There is some special quality about the sound of heavy rain all over the building but also just pounding the grass, making all the new green growth look even lusher and casting this warm yellow tint over everything. It's so peaceful, meditative. I gravitate towards those large windows over looking the woods on most sides. Even past the parking lot, the whole place is surrounded by trees. I love the green roofs too, full of small sedum plants. It's funny how along the entire stretch of overhang the sedum's don't grow, I guess they don't like cover. It makes the plants look like they are all huddling together towards the open air and the outer edges of the roof. Hut, hut, hut, hut. (or is it hup?) Or clustering together for warmth and comfort, sad little plants! The computer room window shades were drawn today, the first time I've _ever_ seen them drawn. As soon as I rounded the corner from the stairs it was the first thing I noticed and I gasped. It was beautiful, finally the whole library extended out on all sides. A panorama of new green, just full from corner to corner with leaves.
I gave notice! May is it, no more paging. It's sad because I loved paging before I came back. I don't love it anymore. Maybe that's a good thing, I got to close that door all the way! I won't go off to other things thinking, I miss paging, too bad it pays so poorly.
That's it, I feel revived, I'm off to be productive.
Thursday, May 8, 2008
Unfiltered body talk
Well, he doesn't want to see me this weekend. He hasn't been getting stuff accomplished on the weekend. I guess I should have seen it coming because he brings it up every time. Ouch. "I hope you understand." You know what I realized, I'm sick of understanding, fuck understanding. It's my turn to be imposing, to impose me and if things go to pot, I don't give a fuck! What ever, I'm planning on leaving anyway. Maybe the whole point is to make it easier, because right now it sure as hell is. Don't weedle your way into my heart, Andy, by any means, don't do that. That's so catty. But this blog is just an extension of thinking out loud (with the added horror of committing thoughts to eternity to potentially haunt me in the future.) Still don't care. My life is about me, isn't it? It's about time the focus of my life started being me. After all, the focus of his life is him. I'm like a hobby, and one that gets in the way apparently. Fuck.
I feel like I've put myself through hell (mostly my body, actually) for this experiment. With my, I'll give it a shot, attitude. And what a lousy ass pay-off this week has been. I've passed three blood clots today and that has been psychologically trying. Even if it is normal or safe, having something like that happen for the first time in (how may years?) of periods, thirteen or more...is rattling. God damn it! My body is not an experimenting ground and that's what birth control is beginning to feel like. How is it that something like that only becomes a reality when I use it and at a distance seems so normal, easy and harmless. So many factors! The reality of changing my body, pushing it even. Considerations as common as how throwing up can hinder its effectiveness. Or even Diarrhea. Wow. I feel like I'm not going to stop bleeding, either, until I start the active pills again. God, the cramps have been awful! How long does it take for all those positive aspects to kick in? I felt so happy at first because everything started out so smoothly.
I'll play the piano tomorrow, I think I've got the passion to pound out that third movement. I hate having to get kicked in the ass to be stimulated to start looking after myself...
I feel like I've put myself through hell (mostly my body, actually) for this experiment. With my, I'll give it a shot, attitude. And what a lousy ass pay-off this week has been. I've passed three blood clots today and that has been psychologically trying. Even if it is normal or safe, having something like that happen for the first time in (how may years?) of periods, thirteen or more...is rattling. God damn it! My body is not an experimenting ground and that's what birth control is beginning to feel like. How is it that something like that only becomes a reality when I use it and at a distance seems so normal, easy and harmless. So many factors! The reality of changing my body, pushing it even. Considerations as common as how throwing up can hinder its effectiveness. Or even Diarrhea. Wow. I feel like I'm not going to stop bleeding, either, until I start the active pills again. God, the cramps have been awful! How long does it take for all those positive aspects to kick in? I felt so happy at first because everything started out so smoothly.
I'll play the piano tomorrow, I think I've got the passion to pound out that third movement. I hate having to get kicked in the ass to be stimulated to start looking after myself...
Subscribe to:
Comments (Atom)
