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Showing posts from November, 2009

Dissection

Hearts, they are funny things aren't they? You can't live without them and yet some days I wish I could pull mine right out of my chest. It breaks, it is heavy or sometimes I just want to see it beating.
Is it weird that I want to watch my body work? To see the raw blood and bones? To see my vain pulsate? When my anxiety was at it's worse I would dig my nails into my hairline, I wanted to peel my face off, it was this weird consuming desire. I would grab on, dig my nails into my skin and try to pull. I didn't want it to hurt though and once it did I stopped.
I lie in bed and wonder if I took myself apart would I be able to put it all back together. Would there be an extra part that I missed, clueless where it goes?
I'd love to dissect my life and being. Or have someone else do it. Tell me what I did right and what I did wrong.
I remember in high school dissecting the fetal pig, I picked one of the smartest girls in the class. I knew she would never compla…

The Asshole

I am surrounded by them, mostly because I am one.
Whenever the family gets together we always seem to find a running joke for our time together, otherwise known as we find something funny to say and beat it like a dead horse. This visits running joke was our quest to not be the "asshole of Thanksgiving."
It started when my brother took the turkey to the downstairs kitchenette, "Don't drop the turkey or you'll be the asshole of Thanksgiving." And thus the joke continued on for the rest of the day.
"Don't burn the gravy or you'll be the asshole of Thanksgiving."
"Don't trip with the bowl of mashed potatoes or you'll be the asshole of Thanksgiving."
"Don't spill your wine or you will be the asshole of Thanksgiving."
On and on and on until my mom goes ape-shit nuts and tells us to stop.
Of course there is only one asshole at Thanksgiving and that asshole is the one who eats the last piece of pumpkin pie.
I am not the …

Feel too much

I had a bad morning. I am trying to change my perspective of things. If a morning is bad it doesn't mean my whole day is ruined. If I had a bad afternoon the rest of the day is not shot to hell. Changing this idea is hard though. I am a holder on to things. I grasp hold of things and don't let go. The ones I love try hard to pry me away from these bad thoughts and actions that were bestowed upon me, it doesn't help much. I know I should not let things bother me, but I do. I am one who lives, breathes and gives with my whole heart and when something is said that hurts or offends I feel it with my whole heart.
I vent, I let it out and still feel the anxiety, the sadness and the hurt. I don't want to be a person someone thinks less of, and when I sense I am it kills. I'd love to be one of those people that says "Whatever" and moves on. I would love to not dwell.
But I do.
On a side note that will make you laugh:
When I called my dear friend to vent a…

A sign of our times

Meg: "Mom hold this to your ear," hands me computer speaker, "you can hear the ocean."
Today was like any other day. And so was yesterday. I have nothing new exciting to share.
And I am kind of liking that.
My small, round head is filled with so much good stuff I can't yet find a way to release it. I have drafts, half written posts in my list, they will never see the light of day.
And I am okay with that.
What I know is that one of these days it is going to hit me, that inspiration and all will be good.
Sometimes waiting is good for you.
Being patient is hard, but when my time comes I will enjoy it so much more.

Working

I have been harboring a secret detail of my ongoing life. A detail that might come in helpful to you my three readers. I don't know why I have been holding this piece of information hostage from you. I don't know why I haven't shared it, maybe it is because I was scared and nervous. Maybe I feared judgment. Maybe I was afraid that sharing this detail would come back and hit me hard in my face. Sharing something means you have to follow through. My rebellious nature makes me sluff off those things that are expected of me. Putting anything on my blog is equivalent to an expectation.
So my secret...
I am off my anxiety medicine.
Can I get a ScoobyDoo "HUH?"
I am guessing some people knew, like my mom. And my sister.
The thing is I wasn't really feeling better on them. Sure I would have a few good weeks, then the shoe dropped.
The tremors.
Or the intense anxiety beyond what I felt when I was not on the pills.
Or the feeling of wanting to take my fingers and rip…

Just chatting

I have been one hot mess lately. I border on emo depressed wannabe to frustrated bitch. Even a breath is not enough. I need a vacation.
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I have been knitting a lot, the desire comes and goes in the great circle that is my life. Reading, knitting and scrapbooking are always done separate, never together. I get bored easy.
My knitting spree is coming to a close. What happens is I have a desire to try something new and I totally bite the big one and give up.
This time it is cable knit and knitting in the round.
They can both suck it.
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I have had brain block for blogging and writing. I read a lot of my fellow bloggers are writing books. They blog, they write books and I can't even formulate a sentence. I am jealous.
I changed my blog to step away from the "stuff" that "mommy" seems to attract. I wanted to focus on honing a craft, as opposed to honing everything else a mommy blogs seems to come with.
It does seem cliche to say "I want to wri…

Lost.

I am feeling everything right now.
You know that pins and needles feeling? Every emotion every feeling is at the surface and you don't know which one to release first.
I want to cry and laugh and yell and whisper. I want noise and quiet. I want to be alone but I am scared to be alone. I want to be touched and loved and I want to hide in my room.
I want this all at the same time.
This I know is physically impossible. Most of everything comes out as displaced anger or frustration or I say nothing because I am afraid of the anger or frustration that could come out. Then anger at myself for overreacting.
or underreacting.
A thousand and one thoughts, ideas swirl through my head. I can't decide where they go. If I should forget. Compartmentalize. Give-up or go all the way.
I like to think all this is part of a cross road. I am scared of every decision and feeling because it is a more then a feeling and a choice it will be my life.

Taking Away

Dear Blog,
I have nothing today and yesterday and the day before that. A lot of thoughts and ideas go through me but it never makes it to paper. I am blocked. I apologize for neglecting you, and I might have to neglect you for a few more days. Hopefully my thoughts will settle and I will have something to say.
Till then....

29 days

It hit me today, a flip of the calendar page, a rise in my belly, the cannon through the heart and the start of a month long panic. It is November, the month the symbolizes a family parted. Brothers not talking to sisters. And a sister crushed by a mother. And a son forever disabling a mother and a family.
29 days I have to get to that day. That day the phone rang, my sister beyond the point of existent, it was like her world stopped. No, her world stopped. Off axis thrown into an unknown universe. When I heard her tears I thought I knew the answer, but of course I was wrong.
If you think there is nothing worse then a death of a child, I might have one for you.
What if your child does something beyond what you thought was possible for a human to do? So horrific in it's nature that you wonder if he born of your womb? That second you think that does that child cease, does he become a new child? Or is he always yours, is he the same boy you cradled? Is he the one you fed …