Prickly

I am dangerously prickly and sullen lately. Quick to take offense - and sure to give it. Being known for my rays of sunshine and optimism, this is hard to reconcile! I honked and "gestured" at someone who cut me off (he pulled up next to me and apologized), I refused to engage in an argument with a client and ended up losing his business (not because I was taking the high road...I simply didn't care enough to exert energy on him), and have been randomly glaring at one household child or another (so I am told).  I feel yucky on the inside but don't have enough spunk to commit to a change. 

I need a pep rally or something. I can see it now: Go! Fight! Be nice! 

Regret and Breadcrumbs

I feel an incredible amount of shame in regards to who I have been. It can be overwhelming. And this blog is a written record of it.

Deleting the blog is an obvious option. So is turning the more "odious" posts back in to drafts (which I have done already with some), so that I don't lose the content but am not displaying it for the world to see. And judge. Like I do.

I dunno. We'll see. I kinda like being able to see where I left my breadcrumbs of words so that I can tell which paths I should not traverse again.

I truly have lost touch with a couple of the people I used to be. And that is okay.

Rage on Down the Road

Home Slice, a photo by Gypsy Scribe on Flickr.

I have been trying to deal with this road rage issue once and for all. Every time I think I have it licked, I am sent a test from above. And I fail. 

A couple of months ago my test was sent in the form of a driver whose car apparently wasn't equipped with accessible mirrors or blinkers. Or the driver just didn't feel like using them that day. In rush hour traffic. So, of course the car slid right over in front of me where there was no room for another car - without signaling. I know, I know. I should have just let her in, slowed down to adjust for her presence and then focused on happier things. Things like this happen all of the time, right?

But no. I didn't. She not only cut me off, she was also going to go a full 5 miles lower than the speed limit IN the passing lane. (I do hear me sounding like a spoiled brat, believe me.) So...I honked at her. It didn't phase her. I honked again. Nothing. Flashed my lights. She slowed down. Tried to pass her. She sped up. Ugh.

After about 15 miles of this nonsense we finally came to town, and of course I was in the turning lane right behind her. So I decided to follow her. Where to? I dunno. I wasn't going to follow her home. But SHE didn't know that. She started to take turns, and so did I - nothing too alarming, but I was doing some fancy mommy talking to myself ("What are you trying to accomplish? How is this going to end well? Stop this right now!") and finally, FINALLY, I decided to let this slight go. There was no way to win. So, I conceded and drove past her when she made one more left turn. 

And wouldn't you know? She swerved back in to my lane behind me and then was following ME! HA! That was some scary stuff right there. I honestly didn't know what to do. 

I stopped in a gas station parking lot, yanked my car keys, jumped out of the car, and met her face-forward as she came in to the parking lot. I am so glad she didn't have a gun - and whatever look on my face or crazy tough girl posturing I was putting out must have worked. I motioned for her to stop and talk to me (whatever motion that is, I guess) but she just kept on going. Right back out of the parking lot.  Phew.

I was worried, SO worried, that she had called the police or had her family coming after me for backup. But then I realized: She really didn't have a leg to stand on in the end. In the end, she was the hunter and I was the prey. She was following me. I was the pursued, not the pursuer. Right?!

Ugh.

I need a chauffeur. 

Now is the Time

Implemental Slumber, a photo by tielji on Flickr.

In my mind, I am a terribly wonderful friend to have. Sweet, giving, understanding, easy to get along with and lots of fun to hang out with.

And I am. Some of the time.

But I also seem to have another person living in me. Another person who can make a guest appearance at any given, random time. This person is nasty, peevish, cruel, judgmental, ruuuuude, and irrational to say the least.

I shouldn't say that this person shows up randomly - it really isn't as random as I would like. She can show up any random time I am drinking.

I have spent the last 15 years trying to decipher her code, trying to ward off her appearance and to somehow predict her pattern. She just does so much damage all the while using my name and my mouth.

Maybe she only comes when I don't eat enough before I drink. Or maybe I shouldn't drink cheap(er) alcohol. Maybe I was just out of my element this time, giving her a foot in the door. Perhaps I was really emotional this time drinking and that brought her around. Maybe I just don't metabolize alcohol the same since I quit smoking, and my body will come back in to balance with time. Maybe it was because I was hormonal. Or maybe I shouldn't mix my alcohols. Maybe I should only drink wine. Or beer. Or blahblahblah ad nauseum..

It is sad how much time and effort I have had to put in to repairing damage caused in my personal life (and maybe my professional life if I am honest about it). I have hurt people that I care about so very much, I have embarrassed the man that I love with my whole heart, and have made my family come to me with their concerns more than once.

Why would I continue down this road? I obviously have failed to figure out how to drink without having it turn out badly every so often. In fact, this game of Russian Roulette has more live rounds in the gun than it does blanks - more sorrowful Saturday mornings trying to piece together what chaos I have wreaked upon my loved ones than not.

The only way to guarantee victory over this particularly damaging part of my life is this:

I admit that I have a problem with alcohol. And I am committed to living my life alcohol-free from this day forth.

Not because I think it will make my life better, or fix any problem that I have right now - I just know that if I drink anymore it will make my life exponentially worse. And I am tired of hurting myself by destroying relationships and opportunities just because I haven't figured out the "right formula".

And I know that there will be many people in my world who will doubt that I can follow through on this intention - and that is okay. If I focus on what everyone else expects of me, I am sure to fail. And I may fail anyway - who knows?

But I have to say that the joy and freedom that comes to me through this decision (Yay! "She's" never coming back to hurt me or anyone else!) is liberating.

I feel free. And hopeful. And ambitious. And ...well, I feel good. Something I haven't felt in a long time.

Merry Christmas to you and me! <3

Man, Truck, Dog. Life is good.

Man, Truck, Dog. Life is good., a photo by tielji on Flickr.

It's been awhile, friends. And honestly - that is a good thing. I haven't been fit for company.

I must apologize for the poison and nastiness in my last post. I have actually been that angry and hurt-y inside all summer long, it seems. Not only did I have myself convinced that I was the victim, but I allowed myself the luxury of striking out blindly against the ones that I love the most. How in the world did I let that happen?

Last summer it was the broken heart. This summer it was the bitter heart. If I don't get a handle on things, who knows what my heart will do next summer?

Enough of all of that.

I need to take the reigns of my emotion back before I damage any more relationships that are important to me. I need to forgive, speak words of peace, and most of all - I need to remember to be kind. To everyone. Including myself.

What a concept, eh?

This Way

This Way, a photo by tielji on Flickr.

I have been thinking a lot about friends.

What is your definition of friend? Do you have many friends - or just a couple and the rest are just acquaintances? Do you have lifelong friends - or friends for a season?

I define friend as someone who can have a conversation with me at any given time of the day, on just about any subject. A friend will ask about my kids. A friend nods knowingly, with a half smile and twinkle in their eye when I recount (maybe in repeat) an escapade involving either bf, parents or rugrats. A friend knows when I an about to cry and quickly grabs a tissue or tells a silly joke, causing my tears great confusion - are we crying from laughter or despair? A friend will interject positive reinforcement when it comes to a conversation regarding me that might be going south - even if I am not present. A friend maintains hope that I will achieve what I set out for - even after I have failed to reach those same goals before.

A friend lets me see when they are hurting. A friend tells me about their bogey monster and does not feel like they need to candy coat their fear. A friend lets me hold them in a fierce protective bear hug when they are reeling from one of life's inevitable right hooks. A friend doesn't expect me to have the right words to say - and doesn't feel slighted when I have no words to say at all.
A friend laughs at my attempts to be clever and witty when I try to lighten the moment. A friend appreciates my effort to make them feel loved even when it's done with banana bread that tastes horrible.

A friend doesn't judge my value by what I wear, where I make my money, where I live, what I drive, who I love, where and who I worship, or what color my skin is.

My friends expect the best from me, forgive the worst about me, promote the vision of a perfect me, and appreciate the me that I already am.

And I am grateful to be blessed with more than a few friends - lifelong AND seasonal.

Willy

Willy Tank, a photo by tielji on Flickr.

I am supposed to be studying. I have a huge speech to give tomorrow, and two papers to turn in.

I am rebelling.

I am working on pictures and cleaning out drawers and making myself notes to remember to send birthday and anniversary cards to obscure friends whose special occasion dates I just happen to remember even though I sometimes struggle to recall my own checking account number.

I am setting myself up for disaster and I have no earthly idea why.

Do you know why?

Will you tell me?

I can always tell when I think things are "good enough" in my life.

I stop wanting and wishing and grappling and wrangling. I stop creating and fulfilling and ...well, I stop writing.

Not that my writing betters anything - or changes anyone else's reality. The only one who notices when I take a sabbatical is me. It isn't like I am letting anyone down with my silence.

It is, however, my way of communicating with the temper tantrum, fit throwing, attention starving two-year old in my head. Writing is how I "hash it out" with myself. Most people are emotionally mature enough to be introspective without this process - I am not. Often, I will feel upset or on edge...and it takes me a good long time to identify what the cause really is! Sometimes I will erroneously attach my upset to whatever train is passing through the yard in an effort to make sense out of my feelings.

God help the human who is nearby when I am looking for a train to hang my upset on. My cargo is not light.

Sometimes it will take years for me to recognize my inappropriate identification of the issues,  sometimes just days or hours. And sometimes you can't say you are sorry for the damage caused during the processing time involved. Or have already said it too many times to be effective.

So, I write.

And I can feel the bratty two-year old gearing up for a tantrum. Let's hope I can find out what her problem is before it becomes someone else's.

Blustering

Johnny's Farm
Originally uploaded by tielji

I am hoping that since I used the "Blog It" feature on my Flickr Share button, the picture will turn out clean and sharp. A few times I have been disappointed with the end quality. I am crossing my fingers...

So. What's been going on with you? How was your Thanksgiving? Are you getting ready for the Big Show AKA Christmas?

Things here are odd. I don't know what to call my relationship status, I am still unemployed, and my head is still a bit too noisy for my comfort.

But all in all, I am still a very blessed girl.

I am dreading Christmas, though, and that makes me sad. Dec 27 seems to be a much more preferred day - the pressure of providing a memorable Christmas with all of it's trappings is over, but the excitement of celebrating NYE is still in the anticipatory stage.

*Noisy Head Alert* I hope that I won't be spending NYE alone this year.

Or if I DO end up spending it alone, that I have a nice supply of cabernet, cheese and crackers.
:)

Trails of Bread Crumbs

I am steeped in others' blogs right now. I think I have read about 22 from beginning to end. Some of them are really long, too!

Some of them are inspiring and educational- but then I go and ruin the feelings that they leave me with by reading tomes of sadness and heartbreak and depression and overindulgence - everything that I am trying to escape.

To be honest though, it is nice to identify with other souls. I just don't think it is always very healthy.  With some, it feels like wallowing.

I am going to put the internet on hold tonight and tomorrow - the only things that will be read by me are going to be books that I can hold in my hand. Physical books without links for me to follow like a lost Gretel headed straight for the Witch's Oven.

I am clearly on the wrong trail.

Emergence

Emergence
Originally uploaded by tielji

What an unusual day. What a fantastical, magical, unusual and wonderful day.

Everything is just as it should be. I am overwhelmed by a profound sense of gratitude. Not sure how long it will last or how the intensity can sustain itself, but ohmygawd, I will take it!

My neighbor next door is a shaman of sorts. Maybe not a shaman - but definitely a strong woman of medicine and spirit. Her knowledge of herbs, meditation, spiritual access, reflexology and physical/emotional relations is astounding. I am in awe of her - and sometimes intimidated.

But not yesterday. Yesterday, my neighbor took me in to her home. She brought me into a room of muted purples and greens with soft music and fabrics and smells and a carefully prepared environment for ministering to my body. My poor, sad, ravaged and heart broken body.

As I climbed under the sheet on the table, feeling uncharacteristically comfortable with being naked, I marveled at the level of vulnerability that I was willing to achieve just to feel anything differently than how I have been feeling.

Before she even laid her hands on me, I started to weep. Silent tears streaming down both sides of my head, dampening the the hair at my temples and the lilac sheet I rested on. Searching for words to explain the tears (in case I needed to explain), I realized that these were not tears of pain or loneliness or heartbreak. These were tears of gratitude. Gratitude for the kindness I was being shown. Gratitude that I was safe and being cared for. Gratitude that I am going to be okay...

She massaged and kneaded and coaxed the muscles in my body for over two hours. Lingering on those places that seemed to want to hold on to hurt. Persistent with those areas that tried to hide the poisons that want to infiltrate the quiet places of the heart and mind.

It was wonderful.

She called me last night to check on me - sometimes breaking all of that loose can cause severe reactions in a person. But it seems that she took the brunt of it, as I had a wonderful and productive evening, and she ended up taking a three hour nap that left her disoriented and shook up upon awakening. Somehow, she took all of my "yuckiness"...

I don't know how all of that works, but she assures me that it happened just the way it is supposed to. This is her ministry. This is her gift. To me.

I feel like a brand new person. And I am so VERY grateful. :)

Happiness is a Flotation Device

The Egger Fence
Originally uploaded by tielji

I have had a pool for the kids (I don't know why we call it Mommy's Pool) every summer since 2001. It's a ritual. Gathering up the kids for the Pool Gathering Expedition, hoping we aren't too late in the season to get the one we like the best (the kind that you just put water in and it rises by itself, but it's big enough to float two rafts in at the same time), reminding each other what toys we need to replace from last year, and of course, getting ice cream on the way home - it's the way we signify that summer is here.

The last couple of years were pretty rough on my Pool Time. (That's the time between 11 and 1 when I just float around and around and around on my green raft, doing nothing but listening to the neighborhood and daydreaming.) I was able to fit in a few weekend days...but not more than that. Workworkwork kept getting in the way. The kids enjoyed it, though, because mommy couldn't hog the water and ruin Pool Games.

This year it is a much different scenario. I work when it's NOT Pool Time. I tell you, it makes all the difference in being a Happy Terri...and not. Ha!

The only people not as happy as Happy Terri during Pool Time is, of course, the kids.

But, they are bigger than me this year and for some reason making me share. Boo.

Sybil's Ride

I haven't decided yet whether or not my writing is going to be through rose colored glasses or just plain ole gloom and doom. 

Why the indecision? Here are my states of being:

I am happy and safe and grateful and loved and employed and well fed (just ate a whole tube of Ritz with a chunk of aged cheddar cheese and a glass of Malbec - nice!) and all of the things that make a girl glow in her writings as well as in person. 

On the other hands, I am lonely and confused and tired and stressed and a bit malnourished (please review what I just ate...that is the third time I have had that exact thing for dinner...ugh) and all of the things that make a girl whine in her blog as well as to her friends.


It can get a little tricky monitoring which side of me gets to come out and play. I prefer the happy, grateful, blahblahblah side of me, of course, but I feel that sometimes that specific act cheats me of bouncing ideas and situations off of my girlfriends - in effect, not giving them the chance to share with me the advisement they are sure to have collected over the years. I forget that I don't have to figure out what to do or how to proceed all by myself all of the time.  

But, the trouble with letting my Debbie Downer out for a stroll? Sometimes she just doesn't want to come home! Sometimes I am stuck in my whirlpool of emotions and ambiguity with no desire to climb out and dry off. That plain sucks. No one wants to be around that. Including me. 

So, I am going to bed. Whichever one of me gets up in the morning gets to share next - and don't you even worry...there are plenty of anecdotes to support all angles. Buckle in, my friends. We have some reading and writing to do.


;)t

Indulgent Lament

(Image found @ Caedes.net. Artist is Kodos34...one of my favorites.)

Please explain to me why I can't figure out how to make a life where I just take pictures and make crazy things with them and post them for everyone to see.

Please share with me why I can't amass a fortune writing random things in random forums. I am good at it - well, if quantity equals quality in this case. 

Please tell me why I can't pay my bills with the emotional currency of hanging out with my boyfriend and going to music festivals and eating nachos and drinking beer at lunch on swanky patios. 

Because those are the things that I want to do. Those are the things that inspire me and make me feel alive.

And right now it is important that I feel alive.

Have you seen my White Jacket?

I  am writing in the wrong blog again. 

I don't care.

They are my blogs and I will write wherever I please. So there. 

(I used to fancy me a Norwegian once who would say "So that!" ..I really did enjoy watching him misappropriate silly English phrases.)

Do any of you know what to do with panic attacks? I have had them since I was a teenager, but always thought it was something else. Inner ear infection, pregnancy, malnourishment, etc. As I got older I started labeling them my intuition...my warning sign that something bad was happening somewhere. And I would also take a pregnancy test just to make sure that it wasn't THAT. 

I have had one ongoing panic attack since Saturday night. I cannot keep food down, my heart races, I am dizzy, nauseous...it's ridiculous! My only reprieves have been when I have finally fallen asleep, or when my dear friend fed me beer until I couldn't feel my heart pounding through my shirt anymore. The worst part is the wrenching in the pit of my belly. Ugh.

I think I am starting to panic about my panicking.

And yes, I already took the pregnancy test. It has been so long that I had to look the results up on the internet to make sure I hadn't read them wrong. It was negative. Don't you worry. 

Now, you tell ME not to worry.

Casting Call for Swift Kicks

(picture found at www.with1eye.com)

Ah - yes! This is what I do! I create something, invite everyone to look at it, promise upcoming features if they will just continue to come back to look at it, stop creating, and then hide until everyone is gone.
God, I suck.

I am weary of me. And I don't even have to act like I am just a little down so that my readers, friends and family won't tire of my whining. I sent them all to look at a DIFFERENT version of me! Ha! Ugh....

So. Let's get down to brass tacks. I am:

• Unemployed
• Divorced
• 40
• Depressed beyond all reasonable doubt

I am alienating my boyfriend...he thinks he can't do anything right. How sad. I make him feel that way when I tell him how once again he has made me feel bad about myself. Why do I do that? Me - of all people- the one who used to preach about how we are responsible for our own feelings and reactions, now making a perfectly wonderful man miserable with my unhappiness. WTF? (Sorry, Mom.)

I keep reading about infinite possibilities and positive thinking and how we are all in control of our future if we can get our thought life under control. I read amazingly inspirational books written by amazingly inspirational people and experience profound paradigm shifts - only to forget whatever insight I gained the very.next.morning. What a waste.

I am at a critical point, folks. I do not have many options for success or fresh starts left - and yet, I am still walking around in dream state. This isn't going to work.

What kind of proverbial kick in the pants is it going to take to get me back on track? What is my track, anyway?

OMG. I am scared. And lost. And ridiculous.

Hope is a cute pair of shoes

Photo courtesy of PostSecrets 1-4-09

This year is going to be amazing. I can feel it in my tummy! I know that the economy is bad, and I know that the politics are jacked, and I know that Yellowstone is probably going to blow up in the next few months and wipe us all of the face of the earth. But - there is something else, too.

Hope. HOPE! It's all bubbling around in me...in my head, my heart, and yes, even my tummy. Hope for better relationships with my mom and my dad and their families. Hope for a more stable relationship with my ex husband and his crazy, cannibalistic freak show of a clan. Hope for growth and exploration with my children. Hope for solidification and stability in my friendships.

And hope for finally being where I am supposed to be. And hope for being loved like I have always needed to be loved. And hope for growing into my own skin and becoming who I was intended to be.

This year is going to be amazing.

:)

Wise and Unwise Why's

PostSecrets fascinate me. I read them every chance I get. They are addicting! No, I haven't done one myself...mostly because I am not nearly as creative as those tormented (or delighted!)souls.

I found my own PostSecret at Target. I was in one of my hibernation spells - you know, where I don't answer the phone or the door or my email - but I needed to get some inserts for my little planner, so venture out I did.

As I looked for just the right paper product for my life changing (HA!) organizer, I came across the most extraordinary thing smack dab in the middle of a notepad on the shelf. I don't even know what made me flip through it!:


I do know this, though - it changed my whole night. It still affects me when I look at it now! Who wrote this? Was she (I am assuming the gender of the author and I know that is wrong. Sorry.) cheated on? Did her man (or woman - not assuming here) leave her for someone they knew? Or someone she trusted? Or someone the cheatee considered "less than"?

Perhaps the "her" in question got the job (or just the recognition) that the writer coveted. Or perhaps something unfathomable happened to the "her" and the question is aimed at God.

I am stunned by all of the perhaps's that these two words create.

And I am stunned by the answer that keeps sing-songing in my brain: Why NOT her?

Tberri's Overactive Lens

This is an actual marketing technique...these shoes are airport friendly! Does that mean that they slip on and off easily when moving through the Gestapo line, or does it mean that you can't store devices in them without being discovered? Does it mean that they won't make alot of noise when you are running to your gate only to find out that your plane has been delayed? Perhaps it means that you can jump up and down on the escalator and people mover while trying to entertain the children who have been stuck in the terminal for the last 13 hours? Perhaps they help you find your lost luggage...just perhaps!

Gotta get me some.




Hey - here is a plea for humanity...Don't take my contenner away please...please!! FGS! I love my contenner and I won't have you jackin' it from me again!

(This drip-catching contenner was found in front of the Chinese restaurant D and I go for lunch on Saturdays last year during the many weeks of melting and freezing snow.)

(Cute, isn't it?)





Oh yeah...got caught speeding again.

Thankfully, this time I was not the one sitting in the driver's seat.

I still may have been the cause for the excess speed...depends on who you talk to.

I feel innocent enough.

:)

Gettin' Crazy Wid Da Postin'

E, the new Sax player for P-nuckle. Soooo good. We saw them last week at the Oriental with Pepper. Also soooo good.

Two postings. Within twelve hours of each other. What??!

I thought alot about what I wrote last night...it sounded to me like I was relying on someone else to make me feel good about myself. And that is not the case. My only feeling was that I want all of my intense emotions to be reciprocated. (I am a princess, dammit!)

And I don't feel like they are. And that makes me feel like a fool. And more than ANYTHING, I don't want to be a fool. (Clearly princesses are not supposed to feel like fools.)

I don't know whether to jump and run, sit and wait, yell and scream, or smile and ignore.

Again - is this a common feeling?

My tummy hurts.