The black List

Not a wink of sleep last night; caffeine got me here but instead of leaving once his usefullness was gone he stuck around like the bad penny he is poking and prodding and denying me my escape into dreamland. What a rotten friend. Let's see, so far on the black list today is facebook going down for maintenance about 3:30am, the alarm that went off really loud at 5am and the hair dryer that blew out in the bathroom outlet (an ongoing problem) almost guaranteeing a bad hair day. Where is Pollyanna this morning? True, there are bluejays squawking up in the trees and there is herbal tea brewing. And I am clean if uncoiffed.

The daydream from yesterday is still clear in my mind. Speaking of my mind, I wonder what difference it has made replacing music with audio books. Do they use both sides of the brain like music? I'll have to google that later.  Dull dull dull. But writing each day is a muscle I need to exercise.

Sun Rot

Driving south to visit my Mother I had a few hours to think, and found my thoughts drifting in and out of the wreck of a relationship I was leaving at home for a few days.  And the vision that kept coming up was how my life had become like a bag that had been left out in the sun too long. There I was strolling along the beach in a wasteland of sand and sun and small broken branches when a small glimmer caught my eye. I go to pick up what looks to be a linen sack and as I begin to lift it up out of the sand it falls apart in my hands, the small weathered pieces falling between my fingers and drifting off into the wind scattering into a 'thousand little pieces', so to say. This is such a strong daydream that it is more like a memory; a very disturbing moment of de ja vu. I immediately grasp the obvious, that it is pointless to try and put back together what had fallen apart so completely.  Something entirely new would have to be forged out of this debri, or maybe it would be best to just sweep it up and put it out at the curb. But it is clear, the time has come to use a 'get out of limbo free' card and start moving the piece of my choosing along the game board.  Sorry, sitting here typing away in my Mother's house I guess it's easy to revert to childish allegories.

I am looking forward to spending a few days caring for my Mom and for myself. The pity train tends to serve fast food garbage and I need some extra greens and exercise in my life right now. I know that one full day of taking care of the details is all it takes to switch trains and get the healthmobile back on track. Bless her heart, there is a bag of dark chocolate covered power berries on the night stand next to my bed; it will be a healthy few days :)

Pruning Therapy

Whacking away at bushes gone wild is much cheaper than retail therapy plus it adds the benefit of burning more calories than strolling through a store. I realized recently, a week or so ago, that my backyard is an honest reflection of my inner-state; mind, heart & soul. I was enjoying a rare dip into the hot tub, delighting in the greenery and birdsong until my gaze shifted from the trees and birds down to where the jasmine was thriving, growing merrily away and strangling it's near neighbours,  the miniature pomegranate bushes. I also noted an unwanted fruitless pear that had volunteered it's presence in the same planting bed and had weaved it's way through the roses, the whole mess again the prisoner of the wayward and pernicious aforementioned perfumed vine. What a great jigsaw puzzle.

It has taken a week or so for the matter to ferment inside the mysterious workings of my brain. And today I was so bothered by my inactivity I succumbed to the lure of green tea and the hoped for energy it might supply to prod me to action; any action.   Said action turned out to be the backyard, my brain letting my body know without any consultation with 'me' what needed to be done and I found myself halfway through filling the large green waste container before I realized I was outside and actually doing something productive. Oh the wonder of drugs (caffeine) and a rare beautiful summer day. I have missed most dreadfully my cool, but clear and sunny, summer mornings when I could putter out back to my hearts content. Instead this year I want to pull on slippers and a sweater, brew my herbal tea and hibernate in front of Hal (a term for my computer borrowed from Poodle whom I have not introduced to this medium but for whom I have great respect and admiration. Anyway, I digress - think Space Odyssey if you need a reference.)

Thirst finally drove me inside, leaving the green waste container filled with just enough room left at the top for lawn clippings. My mind and body temporarily soothed by meaningful (to me) activity, and an hour or so gone that I did not have to fret over. If only they could all pass in such a gloriously unexamined way.

"It was a seven page fax, the first letter was F"

I once postulated that the whole reason we are born into these bodies, into this world, is to figure out how to deal with change. It is, is it not, everything? It's all around us in every facet of our lives, yet we seem to fight it tooth and nail by instinct, from out deepest gut; at least I do, and I see those about me in the same turmoil. Even when change will most likely be for the better, for everyone concerned,  we fight.  I heard once that we cling to what we know, that misery with what we know is easier than the fright of the unknown. Heaven knows what little beasties are out there to torment us.  So I decided that if change is such an intrinsic part of life for us here on this world we find ourselves in, and we are so bad at it, then we must be here to learn about it. Which begged the next question; what comes next that we have to be prepared to embrace change? Today, who cares. It's too bad there is no one in my life I can talk about it with, I would love to have some drinks and talk and ponder and ... but no one. A story for another day about yet something else that is my fault. Egads.

Back on topic. Here I am faced with a big upheaval in my life, a drastic change that I am not ready for, nor that I wish, well, maybe. Anyway, I've said the words and I feel .... awful. And the house is quiet. And the memory of a favourite book comes to me; something along the lines of...if you don't let someone know they have a choice, how can they make an informed decision? Why is it so hard to tell someone what you want, how you feel. Why is the very thought of hearing a no, or an argument, such a strong deterrent to sharing your thoughts? At this point there is nothing left to lose I guess, so maybe I will think about it. The problem is I don't really know what I want. Aren't I a little old to be so uncertain? Never the charging horse me, always the quiet one..."that's me in the corner." Right.  Damn.  And for two weeks I have been stuffing my face to make this icky feeling subside. Rats again.

Calm Morning

Another cloudy California morning, but today there is a swathe of light streaming in from the East, and the lawn across the street is a gleaming emerald beacon of the day to come. How it beckons me, tempting me out of my little room where I sit typing; tippity tap tap goes the keyboard as my feet stay firmly planted under my chair. Today is a walking day, I took yesterday off, and I know I should do it now to get the day off to a good start; planning to do it after work is...insanity. I am fairly certain it won't happen. But the sleep help I took last night is not conducive to a bright and cheery and movement oriented morning.  Time to switch back to herbal teas and see if I can sleep without the pm crap. But I am scared of what I may lay awaking thinking...we'll see.

History and and the Horrors of Repetition

I haven't been writing for a long time; sucked into the insanity of online gaming I have been struggling to keep my head above water there - thoughts of 'what the fuck am I doing wasting this day here' and 'I need to get up, I need to move, I need....something!' coursing through my brain as I sit immobile except for the flurry of my mouse finger and the occasional pattering across the keyboard. Ugh.  But I love to play and I don't see that going away.  

After my pathetic (but needed) dip into the pity pool last night I am rather calm this morning. I gamed a little, walked the dog & washed my wine glass, and spent some time reading back some of the posts I have written here.  I should rename this post something like, "The intimate ramblings of a bi-polar idiot."  My god, I have been in the same place emotionally so many times, will I never learn? Lets see, there is a good day filled with 'INSIGHTS' followed by the determination to 'FIGHT', and the 'LISTS' of all the wonderful plans on how to succeed. Ugh. then I disappear for a while, and all is dark and pitiful. And then...well just more of the same over and over.  So I guess here I am again back at the beginning YET AGAIN.  A good morning after a bad night and ready to slay dragons. How Dreadfully Boring.

Yes, yes, but lets move on to the lists :)

Goals:
Eat for nutrition - Log at PeerTrainer
Stay Accountable - Blog here
Exercise - Walk the Dog, Shoot my Bow, Start the 100 push ups program,  Ride my Bike

How Grateful I am to be able to do those things. And it might all change, so I will try to feel blessed by what I can do instead of being grumpy about how things didn't turn out.

Sigh.

Endings

Why are endings and beginnings so different? They are after all just part of the same thing. But I do think that how you begin something has a definite bearing on how you end it. Whether it's Love, or a Habit; a Job or a Hobby. When you rely on someone or something else to provide the impetus for action, when that person or thing shuts down, well, so do you. I guess. I have no clue how or why anything works or doesn't, and really, I guess my faith is pretty much in the toilet tonight. Faith in myself, in the universe at large, in Love.

I never imagined I would be who I am today.  I may have written about the day I was driving to school and listening to the radio. I heard someone say how they had wasted their life trying to figure out who they were and remember thinking, "that will be me."  How on earth could I have known - or at that moment did I decide my future. Do I wish I could go back and punch in another station before hearing those words? No. I haven't the energy to even think of starting over.

I loved reading that for a human life there is no control group. It's the one thing I can hang on to, that how I feel and grieve is just perfectly normal for me. But if that is true, how can I hate so much what I have become? I can feel barely a glimmer of light in my center screaming out, "I'm here, don't give up!"  Such a small and far away voice; a thought really, not even a sound. And so tiny.  But there it is, and I can't ignore it. I wish I could. I wish I could throw in the towel and just be who and what someone else needs me to be instead of being tortured daily by what I think I should have been. Lord knows I think I have fairly well slaughtered the hope of who I once thought I was.

I know I am loved, and valued, by at least a couple of people. I know deep down inside there is that girl who remembers how to love and smile. I just can't find her right now, and it's a very sad day.