A Spring Lament

It's that season-in-between-seasons here in Colorado. Not Winter anymore and not really Spring yet - but almost. It still gets below freezing at night and can snow any given afternoon if there are enough clouds. Even if the forecast says 61 degrees.

We are past the Spring Equinox, and that should mean something!

All it really means to me is that I wore the wrong thing to work again today.

A New Kind of Year

Steeled Soul, a photo by tielji on Flickr.

2010 was a tumultuous, sickening, exhilarating, devastating and  an all around eventful year. I was so glad to be entering 2011 with all of the pieces of my life put back where I thought they oughta be. D and I had reconciled - although we still didn't have any idea what to do with this relationship to make and keep it healthy for both of us. My kids were doing well at home and at school - although I was starting to emotionally separate from my daughter in apprehension of her "leaving me" and going to college. My relationships with my mom and dad were both intact and everyone was - for the most part- happy and healthy.  I was at poverty level financially, but felt very wealthy in terms of friends and family. 


Part of any relationship is sharing with the other those things that make one feel special and cared for - and being honest about the things that don't. Being able to say "Hey! This is not okay!" is crucial to the health of a partnership. And I am not good at it. I am good at pouting. I am good at obscure references and the silent treatment. I can drop hints and exaggerated sighs like a B2 Bomber. But the straightforward approach escapes me.

This year, when planning out holiday celebrations with various family factions, it just so happened that D will be spending New Years Eve in Kansas with his family hunting and opening presents. I, on the other hand, am childless and now boyfriend-less on this very special milestone holiday. And while my brain gets the logistics of what our situation is, the little brat inside of me is throwing a temper tantrum because I don't get my way - I don't get to dress up, party, and kiss my boyfriend at midnight. Ugh. Such a terrible plight. 


But really, it's more than that. I don't want to spend any holidays by myself.


I spent the previous week simpering and sighing every time that NYE came up in conversation (something I do before every holiday or special occasion that doesn't pan out my way). I repeated all of my finely honed poor communication skills - with the expected poor results. Finally, in an obviously-channeled-from-a-healthy-person session, I very clearly said: Hey, I have to tell you something. I have a problem. I am not okay with being alone on holidays. And you know what? It was easy! And good! It works! Did D change his plans and ruin his kids' time with their grandparents so that I could have my way on NYE? No. Thank goodness. But we were able to have a conversation about my feelings and expectations.


I was surprised to learn that NYE is not that big of a deal to my boyfriend. I count it as one of my "High Holidays". I reminded him of how special the NYE we spent in Boston was. Of how much fun we had going to see Benjamin Buttons another year - we went to the theatre in one year and came out of the theatre in another year, etc.


Yet, today when I was getting my head and heart right to be okay with being "alone" tonight, it dawned on me: when I was reminding him of the special NYE celebrations we have enjoyed over the past few years, I did not mention last year. Not one word was spoken about the transition from 2010 to 2011, even with all of it's drama and events. You know why?


I can't remember what we did. Or if we were even together. 


I will have two special gifts for myself as we go in to the new year - one is the ability to trust that I can express my wants and needs in a healthy, constructive way. The other will be a newly written reflection of 2011. I don't want to spend anymore time this year dreading things that haven't happened or might not be as bad as I think they will be. I want to celebrate and be grateful for those moments full of joy and contentment.


Happy New Year, my friends. <3


 
 

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?

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.

Alcohol Malfunction

I drank tequila last night.

It was supposed to be an innocuous drink. A sangria swirl, if you will. Frozen sangria and a frozen margarita in one luscious goblet served with a straw.

It had tequila in it.

I spent what was supposed to be a beautiful night with my sweetheart laying away from him on the very farthest corner of the bed, listening to him snore. Fitfully snore. Randomly, he would even make that sound where the snore has plugged up his nose and is suffocating him to death. I stared at the ceiling, the wall, the pillow, and his nose (willing it to stop making those awful noises) for four and 1/2 hours.

And it was all my fault.

I drank tequila and unleashed my tongue.

Gah.

Crash and Burn...

...and she's down, folks.

(Be right back - looking for rock bottom.)

Do Something QUICK! ohwait...nevermind.

Well, crap.

Guess what?

I am not feeling anything. Not hoping, not caring, not loving, not hating, dreading or fearing.

Nothing.

There is no angle in my limited little world that is holding true to form. Rather, every detail is blending...all smooshing together in one muddy swirl.

I think that I am trying so hard to feel something - anything - and only nothing can come from such misguided exertion.

I have been wrestling in this quagmire for quite some time. Years, I think. Causing drama on an ever increasing level to get that sigh of relief from knowing that I am still capable of change in altitude.

Does this have anything to do with D? Or divorce? Or my mum and pop? Or some repressed anger from childhood? Or perhaps an undiagnosed demon? (HA!)

Nope.

It's just me. Me, and my closed up doors and windows with the phone turned off for good measure.

And a tall glass of wine. Not tall in the Starbuck's sense, either.

I am sure to be better soon. It's my pattern.

...night.

Instant Reincarnation

Dawn and Travis (D's Cousin and Wife), me, and Darin closing down their restaurant/bar in NE one early Sunday morning.

Someone tell me a joke and do it quickly! A good laugh is supposed to be an altitude and attitude adjuster.

Things have gotten too heavy and too complicated and too hard to decipher.

I am going to reboot.

Vanilla Pudding in the Shade

My boys in my back yard. It backs right into heaven...great for late evening walks!


This weekend I got bored. And boring. Ugh.

I woke up this morning on my red leather art deco couch in a puddle of sunlight to the sound of cartoons. Anyone who knows me knows that I don't watch TV. But I have been doing just that this weekend. And apparently it is sucking the brains right out of me to the point where I can't even make it to bed!

Dielji is at "Fish Camp" this weekend...all weekend. Plus two weekdays. In his absence I could have gone to the lake with friends or gone bar hopping and dancing with other friends, but I decided to start acting like a sane, balanced woman who can be by herself for a couple of days without throwing a breaker. I stayed home.

I floated in my pool, did pilates, laundry and dishes. And watched two movies. I worked out on my elliptical and made a menu for next week so the kids and I can go grocery shopping when I pick them up from their father's house.

That is ALL I have done...and I will tell you this:
I cannot be by myself for a couple of days without throwing a breaker. I get boring and stupid. Next time I am at this crossroads - watch out, world! I am coming to play with YOU!

Grading Metaphorical Dives

Criminy. It is my pattern. It is how I roll.

I get to running so fast, so beautifully, just screeeeeamin' right along - and then I trip. And land flat on my face.

It is getting harder to pick myself up these days...partly because I only have myself to fight, so I can't use my ex as motivation for locomotion. HA! He was really good for that, wasn't he?

Does everyone have to give themselves pep talks? Is this normal? Do YOU have to tell yourself you are alright? That things will work out just the way they are supposed to?

I won't be musing anymore tonight, don't worry.

But I will tell you one thing: there is someone out there who is as big of a fan of me as I have to pretend to be of myself. And he will be so proud of me. And proud to be with me.

...I gotta wipe the mud outa my eyes from my latest digger so I can see him.

Better Left Behind Closed Doors

I am a mess. A freakin' mess.

Friday I will sign papers that end the last 22 years of my life.

I will be a single mother of three children. One of them a teenager.

I have had to start worrying about utilities and credit card bills instead of road trips and drink money. The kind of worry that makes you vomit when you think about amounts due and due dates. Makes me feel like I have wasted the past two decades only to start again at less than ground zero.

WTF?!

Want to know what is the worst part of all of this? Watching my youngest child disintegrate into a rageful puddle of violence and irrational behavior. Right now he is sobbing in his bed because he lost at UNO and I wouldn't let him trounce his older brother into oblivion for winning. He is so angry and thinks the world is against him...I don't want this for my baby.

I didn't want this for any of my children. I want them to be able to to experience normal emotional growth, and deal with normal childhood worries. Not this all pervasive fear and anger.

This is why I don't believe in divorce.

I don't think I believe in marriage now, either.

Sorry, Mom. I will be drinking myself to sleep tonight.

...how proud you must be.

There she goes...there she goes again...

I have some good news: I am not crazy anymore. Or at least my moments of clarity are lasting much longer.

I have some bad news: I am very depressed. And all of my monkey-like pressing of the levers is not bringing me joy or relief like it used to.

I have this overwhelming urge to dump everything in my life and start all over. A new creation.

I think I will wait this urge out just a bit longer.

Perhaps it is just more crazy in disguise.

ofgs...

Why? Why am I selfish? Why am I not a good wife/mommy etc. just because I don't want to die a slow, rotting death in this house? Why am I irresponsible because I want to LIVE? Why am I shortchanging my children when I participate in group activities and enjoy social events? Why am I acting like I am single if I go out for drinks and dancing with my girlfriends?

I get that he doesn't want to go anywhere or do anything and could be perfectly happy sitting in his easy chair drinking beer and watching netflix movies. I even can still love him.

Why? Why don't I get the same allowance?!

I am sick of this.

Can You Take Me Higher?

We are once more at the cyclical portion of myself that moves forward too fast, and forgets to move my feet. I am flat on my face emotionally tonight...

Time again to be stuck in my little glass coffin, face pressed awkwardly against the surface, features smeared, watching the rest of the world whirl by.

I gotta figure this sh*t out.

This is the worst part of being Terri.

Why Can't I Be You?

Tonight I have to do dishes and laundry. I just know deep down inside that I was meant for SO much more. I was supposed to be a rock star. I am sure of it.

And you know what else? Tonight I found out that the Boy that promised to pine after me...adore me...love me forever although I wasn't willing to change a thing for him (like being married) and could never reciprocate in feelings has moved on and found a girl he can actually have a relationship with. WTF??!!

(...this is not a photo of him...this is my friend Jeff.)

I just don't understand. ;)

I'm a Little Tea Pot...

Note to self:

Self, if you want to feel inferior, you must lock yourself in your office with a bottle of wine and hit "next blog" about 452 times. And then you should feel ashamed of yourself for the amount of time you wasted doing that. Inferiority and shame - two equally powerful emotions. Let's do that again real soon.

Cough Hack Snort Sniffle Whine

Ugh...the kiddo's are sick today. My middle child has a fever of 102.5 - has been running it since yesterday. Although he went to the school nurse twice, they were not able to get ahold of me and so the poor baby spent the afternoon sleeping in her office. That makes me feel like such a bad mommy. My youngest has a cough that sounds like a seal - it is his normal cough for a simple cold, but it raises quite the alarm with school districts as it sounds like whooping cough.

So I called in to work today so I could stay home and take care of them. THAT makes me feel like a bad employee...

I never was very sympathetic when my staff would call in to say they were home with sick babies. Remembering all the times I rolled my eyes while talking to them on the phone makes me feel like a bad employer and friend...

I am angry at the J-Man because he flat out refused to be the one to stay home. Some important project with a deadline, blahblahblah. I am frustrated with my extended family who tells me to "just call if you ever need me!" 'cause that apparently has stipulations. My anger and frustration with other people just because I am the one to stay home to care for my family makes me feel like a bad PERSON.

So, lets recap. One kid with a high fever, one with a scary sounding cough, and me with a case of the bad's. This is going to be a great day.

This one may never get published. This one may be a draft for it's entire life...only accessible by the one (or four? who knows anymore? I write them down...dumb*ss) who knows my password.


("The one who knows my password" was supposed to reference me...but now it could mean anyone. Great. Whatever.)

Ever been sick of you? Of who you are right now? At this moment?
(This is a rhetorical question, of course. Which question is rhetorical? Oh. All of them.)

Not in a sad, pity, woe is me, forlorn-y way...but ANGRY sick.

Like a For-God-Sake-Shut-UP! kind of angry sick.

WHY have I been feeling sorry for myself and rolling around in some imaginary mire? Good f*cking grief! HOW did I become the quivering, flailing freak anyway?! WHAT happened that made me so falsely brash and adolescent-ly (I realize I am making up words) impudent and grossly self-absorbed? (This is starting to shape up like the Five W's of reporting - only HOW begins with an H...OHMYGOD! SHUT UP!)

Oh, poor confused terri...trying to sort it all out...blah blah blah. Truth is, I f*cked up. This is my doing. I made myself this way. D*mn it.

And now I have made everything so foul and ugly and shameful and disgusting...and it's my mess to throw out and start over.

So start pitchin', sista, and stop the whining. Enough is ENOUGH. No more...