The End

I had to edit that last post because it just stank of Bad Karma.  I don't want to use my writing to hurt people.  We have gossip columnists for that.  Besides, it really felt awful to read the bad and mean things that I had written about people...and on Easter Sunday to boot.

Anyway, I felt like I was rushing.  And I had to ask myself why.  I think that whenever I get scared, I get angry and whenever I get angry my thought process rushes.  It's as though I'm running...in my head.  Like I'm trying to escape.  And that is fruitless.  I mean...your thoughts are inside of you?  How can you escape what's inside of you...I don't know but people try to do it all the time.

I guess that is the nature of addictions...to escape yourself.  Who does that? Really.  I mean really escapes themselves.  If you are stuck in an addiction...you are only putting yourself on hold.  Trust me...I've been addicted to lots of things.  Men, food, computer...books...sleep...work...booze(?).  That last one is questionable but maybe I'm in denial.  I never really liked drinking.  I just did it.

So, when you are addicted to stuff...your full attention is on that person, place or thing.  And your true self is just going along for the ride.  Because you have made a conscious decision to ignore your pain riddled self.  Self-abandonment.
That's what addictions are.  An attempt to take care of yourself by abandoning yourself.  That's why it's called dysfunction. Doesn't work.

Well, I have started to nurture myself.  No wonder I never wanted to have kids but did anyway.  (I think I was addicted to raising them. Actually, when you are addicted to other people, that's called obsession).  It's much easier for me to take care of someone or something else of someones than it is to take care of myself or my own. 

My heart beats rapidly while I'm writing this.  I guess the realization scares me still.  I have always felt abandoned.  Like a little girl standing in the middle of the mall crying out for her mommy who is so taken with the shoes in the shoe store that she forgot that her baby was with her.  I got lost at the beach once.  Only for a few seconds...I was about five and I can tell you that getting lost in a crowded place at five...being inadvertantly (I hope), separated from your parents is the loneliest feeling in the world. 

When you leave yourself behind...that's worse.

The End

Maybe I'll Elaborate...Maybe

So, a coworker tried to intimidate me this morning. I think she was jealous that I told someone that I would go skydiving with them.  Or, maybe it was the fact that I came up the hallway flapping my arms in a ghostly manner spookily saying, " come play with us".  Or, maybe she got up on the wrong side of bed and drove to work resentful that she had to come to work.
Or, maybe the wild array of starchily wavy salt and pepper strands of hair on her head are really brain fragments oozing  through the hollow hair follicles in her skull, rapidly shrinking her brain and she's pissed about it. <-----I don't believe any of this. Just sayin'.
Who cares? I couldn't wait to get home to write about it on my blog so that all of my peace and serenity wouldn't escape and then disperse into the atmosphere, never to be discovered again.  I was good this morning, I must say. I didn't lose much of my peace and serenity to her antics.  And guess what?  She has to work all day while I sleep.  Now how cool is that?

Boy, it's great to be home on an Easter midday morning, ready to take a nap.  I still don't like working nights and I still don't like this job.  But, I've been reading about gratitude.  So, I'm grateful for this job.  What else can I say?

I sat and talked to my son's sitter all morning.  She is such and interesting person.  The thing about it is that she doesn't know how interesting is.  She loves kids.  Her daughter and son-in-law live with her.  My sister spent the night at her house.

Anyway, I stayed at the sitters house and talked and talked and talked until I was too sleepy.  Then, her daughter had taken my young son to the store with her and I thought they'd never get back.  She called her daugher and told her that I was ready to go.  Oops!  I told her daughter that I was tired and ready to go.

I'm starting to rush again.  Wonder what that's about.  Maybe, being lonely on Easter.  And being in love with someone who doesn't even know you exist? And you don't want to be in a relationship anyway?  That's weird.  Maybe, I'm just attracted to the idea of loving someone...romantically that is. I guess.  (You can tell that I'm not ready to be in a relationship).  I love plenty of people.  But, not in that way if you know what I mean?

Okay...it's Easter.  Jesus gave his life for us. 

Ever wonder why God bothered?  I'm greatful that He did.

Silence...Is Irrational

My oldest sister visited our hometown and tells me that my younger sister is extremely thin and buying cases of ensure.  My young son was in the room.  I told her that my sister had suffered from anorexia nervosa before her first daughter was born. The condition resolved when she was pregnant. By the end of her pregnancy she was 170 lbs.

I lived with my younger sister and her crack addicted husband at the time.  She must have weighed 89 lbs--or less--when she lost her appetite after hurting her back in a care accident. She looked like a skeleton with skin on it.  I tried to have her committed to a treatment center but the lady on the other end of the phone said since she was thirty she would have to sign herself in.  I sighed, hung up the phone and began to envy her girlish figure.

That was about 25 years ago.  She's always been small. But, the stooped over figure with the pail, paper thin skin that I see in slacks and a way too big sweatshirt, is too excruciatingly familiar to want to look at.  But I examine it...eyes glued to the image trying to recognize my younger sister.

"She will die if she doesn't eat", I blurt out. 
"We shouldn't discuss this in front of him", she says.
"Who?" I ask.
"Dante. He's too young and that's too much information".
"What? Talking about death?"
She stares.
"It's a fact that if you do not eat, you will die.  Anything that starves, dies."

As sick as my family is.  I'm always surprised when they do something or say something crazy.  My son hears about death every single damned day.  He hears about it on the news, in song. Sees it in movies and on the news. We just went to one of my aunts funerals a couple of weeks ago. Road kill litters the highways, parking lots and cul-de-sacs in the neighborhood. 

Maybe, I didn't get the memo.

The Only Way Out Is In

I moved to Atlanta in 1994, thinking that my life would be absolutely wonderful because I was getting away from the chaotic family that I grew up in.  I came to Atlanta and created my own chaos. I'm still as upset and confused most days as the day I left Boston.  Not much has changed.

I woke up this morning looking at the floor and feeling the usual anxiety and dread that greets me on a cool cloudy--or warm sunny--day.  I felt like I wanted to run--as I often do when I wake up in the morning.  About a month ago, I had decided to move to Virginia to take care of and help out a friend of mine who is disabled.  I squashed that idea when someone asked me couldn't I  just move somewhere without the motive of taking care of someone else.

Had I not had something to offer Atlanta, I probably would not have come here. But I didn't know that I was addicted to caretaking back then.  Now, I know.

So, I considered what the person asked me and I realized that moving to Virginia was not a good idea.  So, what am I left with?  I'm left with living my life.  Boy, that sounds good, but it is a hard thing to do.  I always looked for a good reason to exist.  I always felt like I had to justify why I was here.
I realize now that I don't have to do that.

I have a right to be here just like everyone else.  I think that trying to validate my right or reason to exist stemmed from not feeling adequate, or good.  Not just good about myself but good period.  So, I felt like I had to let everyone know that it was okay for me to walk around on earth because I was contributing good things to humanity.

I woke up this morning very depressed and wondering what would make me happy.  I felt like I was at a dead end and that there was nothing else in life that I could do.  I felt like I have reached my peak and now that I was getting old and ugly, I was done for.  But, then I realized that I haven't really lived my life, because I 've been too busy trying to help everyone else live theirs. I've tried to help everyone but myself out.  I've given everyone everything that I have.  It hasn't been much because I've dispersed my good will around the universe ever since I was a kid.

I'm spent.

I've learned that nothing outside of me can make me happy.  No matter where I move, I have to take me and my bag of dysfunction, dysphoria with me.  I realize that I have to use my internal resources to create my external reality.
I've also learned that I am enough.  I don't have to explain or justify my existance to anyone.  I've also learned that I have to live with my circumstances, no matter what they are until they change...or I choose to change them.

I'm working on it. I have that power.

Skip It

I wish I could fast forward through this day instead of live through the incredible "agony of defeat" that I feel.  Why can't I just accept things the way they are?  My son is sick this morning.  He is in pain.  I have tragedized the situation and created fear in my soul. I don't know what is wrong with him and I am upset. I need to take him to the doctor but, have run out of funds for the week and I don't get paid until Friday...What have I done to have this happen? Further, he is out of school again today.  He was out of school last Thursday and a previous Monday.  I don't want a truant officer knocking on my door.  I've already had to deal with social services this year.  Now what?

I guess I'll have to suck it up and take as it comes.

Things could be worse.  I just read a news story about a young chinese girl who was killed in Canada. Her boyfriend saw her on webcam get into a struggle with some stranger and then the webcam went off.  Now, that is real tragedy.  Her parents said that they heard the knews on television but had hoped that they were talking about someone else.  I can't imagine what that would be like.  My worries pale in comparison to their reality.  I feel for them.

I want to feel better, confident and loving towards myself and my situation.  But, I feel like a total screw up.  Why is my son not feeling well?  Why don't I have a job and a life that I love.  What job and life would I like or love and what difference would it make in how I view the world?

If I skip this day, what exactly would I be trying to avoid?

Where's Doc?

Financial Whoas!

I am phobic when it comes to talking about money.  Phobic! It didn't occur to me until yesterday when I realized a buncha things that I hadn't done regarding my finances.  I always feel like I don't have enough money to do what is necessary to live comfortably. 

Crazy huh?  I would say I am crazy.  But, how many people feel this way and never say anything about it. (Now, that's crazy...to hold all this stuff in).  Actually, talking about it on this blog makes me feel like I'm going to vomit. What is up with that? ( I guess that's why people never say it out loud! That's what makes for the fake, pretentious society we live in.  People hidin' stuff.)

My heart beats fast, I'm starting to hyperventilate and I feel nauseated.  I have a headache now. I know though that the only way to get rid if your fears is to look them straight in the eye.  And I'm staring this sucker down.   So, what do I do know. 

I looked up my credit report yesterday and it is bad.  Not as bad as I thought it was but bad enough.  I never understood the importance of financial clout.  I understand it now but how do I fix a financial situation that's as broken as mine?  Not only am I living paycheck to paycheck...but I'm living paycheck to paycheck.

I sometimes wonder what the merit of airing all of my dirty laundry on a blog is?  Maybe there is no merit.  But, it is cathartic. 

I took a nap this morning and woke up feeling oh! so peaceful.  I didn't really intend to go to sleep, I just wanted to relax for a few minutes after my son got on the school bus. 

Maybe one day I will find my niche and write about things that matter to everyone else.  I doubt it.  I like writing what matters to me. It has taken a long time for me to get to this point.  Blogging is a great forum to just say stuff on.
So I'm just sayin'....

No Time Like the Present

I sit at the computer surfing the net and looking for information on the unconscious.  I was planning on writing a fiction story based on unconscious stuff.  I start having these anxiety attacks. I drank a cup of caffeinated coffee with sugar in it while I was journaling at Starbucks.  That is a "no-no" for me. I know this and I did it anyway.

Anyway, I'm sitting here at the computer just searching and typing and looking for unconscious stuff and I feel like I just want to run upstairs, get in the bed and close my eyes.  I feel sleepy but nothing overwhelming.  I just want to escape the rush of thoughts going through my head.  At least if I start to snore, I know that I will be content and relaxed for a few minutes.  Had I not had that coffee, I would be content and relaxed probably all day. 

It's not only the caffeine that sends me bouncing off the walls but the sugar too.  My mother suffered from anxiety, I wonder if the sugar is why.  She wouldn't partake of caffeine in any form.

Now, I'm sitting here and journaling about my near psychotic experience...is that anything like a near death experience? Probably not, but I swear they have a lot of similiarities.  Aside from the fact that psychotics have a break from reality. ( I like to break and run from reality periodically).  A near death experience is just a different type of reality.  Maybe, we can say that about hallucinations too.

I write my thoughts on these blogs.  I suppose if I put pictures next to them, someone would be more apt to read them. Maybe, I don't want anyone else to read them.  I don't know why pictures attract people.  They don't necessarily make a blog more interesting to read as far as I'm concerned.  Just makes them more attactive to look at.  And then, I guess it depends on who you are.

I have interesting things to say sometimes.  I don't think anyone spews out meaningful words constantly, all day, week, year long. And these days, if they did would anyone listen? 

Start? Where Am I?

Start where you are...if you want to reach a goal.  It sounds good, but I never considered what that meant.  How many people actually stop to look and see where they are?  I never have...I was always afraid to look.  So, for a good part of my life, I've walked around with my hands over my eyes playing peek-a-boo.  When I thought it was safe to look, I would look through my fingers until I spotted another threat.

Start where you are, sounds simple.  Sounds easy but it's not.  In order to do that, you have to actually take note of where you are.  Accept where you are.  And then survey the damage in the area and begin to clean it up.  In order to look and accept, at some point you have to take time out of your busy life to stop and do this.  How many people actually do that? 

Didn't think I had time to stop, was to scared to look and where I was and was too anxious to clean up.  I feared what was under the debris. 

I decided that life is too short to go through it blind folded.  There is just too much to see.  Too many good things that over whadow the monster under the bed that may threaten to shatter my life at every turn.  I have surveyed the area. And I've learned that if no immediate danger exists, I have plenty of time to accept what is there.  Then, I begin in one spot, picking up the pieces and either putting them where they belong or tossing them...

Fear

I have often boasted concerning the fact that I once suffered from agorophobia \during a long period in my life and how I cured it by facing my fears.  The fears that were paralyzing at the time were of objects like elevators, escalators, trains, high places.  It never occurred to me at the time that all of that the fear would leave those places and go somewhere else.

Fear...seems to have a life of it's own I have learned.  I have recently begun to feel fearful and anxious.  It is always convenient to blame your fears on something or someone else.  Fear is always self generated.  I think it is anyway.
So...it can take on a life of it's own if you don't watch it.  Mine has.  These are some of the things that I have been afraid of lately...

That I will be reprimanded at work for going to my aunts funeral on Sunday.
That I don't look right when I go out.
That people will talk about how fat I am when I go out.
That I don't look girly enough.
That no one will like me.
That I will try to please people and they won't ever be pleased.
That I will never get it (the opportunity to live a pleasing and peaceful life).
That I will be like this for the rest of my life.

As reasonable or crazy as these fears seem...I obsess about these thing when I am feeling most doubtful.  If I turn this crap over in my head long enough, I just lose it.  But, that doesn't happen frequently. (At least not as frequently as it used to).

Fear just really sucks.  Believing that what you're afraid of is worth fearing sucks even more.  What if I choose not to fear anything? Then what?

Fear.

It's just a four letter word

Follow the Yellow Brick What...?

If you ask me, Dorothy Gales' journey was easy.  Even though she got caught in a tornado, found herself infinite miles away from  home, got sent away by the wizard, accosted by the Wicked Witch of the West, she finally found that the path to her destination was simple.  All she really had to do was click those ruby reds together three times in succession repeatedly and repeat, "There is no place like home".

Now what if I could just reach my goals by doing that?  Wouldn't life be simple?

I doubt it.  The anxiety that I experience in everyday life just makes life extremely unpleasant. When you are constantly looking over your shoulder in anticipation of perceived threats, it makes the actual ones that much more frightening. There ain't a pair of angst defying ruby red  slippers in the world that could get me out of some of the messes that I find myself anchored in some days. Nevermind a yellow brick road.

The only thing that you actually have to fear, is fear itself.  That's what my mom always told me.  It's so much easier said than done.  Fear stinks...it sucks even.  Fear was the biggest obstacle that Dorothy and the Cowardly Lion faced.  It delayed Dorothy from finding the simplest of answers that would have solved her problem.  Fear does that to many of us.

So, why was that yellow brick road yellow?  Fear. It camouflaged itself as the easiest path from here to there.  It wouldn't have been so symbolic if it had been another color.

I guess I'll have to paint my bricks a purple...green maybe.