Brittle and white shells

Slowly starting to come together. I read somewhere about gold filled cracks of pots and China form to make something that is worthy of being shown tik the world.  I’m trying to start each dat by deciding yo be happy.  I feel like I have to keep this delicate balance I have going right now. I’m working on.my physical and mental health all at the same time and boy us it like spinning plates.  I pray I have the strength to keep everything balanced. I’m wanting to move forward on whatever path I’ve stumbled onto. Writing really helps. The music is back to comforting me instead of being a reminder of fucking up. It felt like that for a little bit but thar first night home, I knew all would be well. I actually felt it when I stared out the planes window and glimpsed the lights in portland. I’ve found home. And I’m doing ok today.

All these things that I have done

Its hard to look back and see the progress when you are in the midst of a change.

April 29, 2016 I was taken to the Adventist hospital in the midst of liver, kidney and respiratory failure. They couldn’t take me which I find really ironic when I pass their billboards that tout how wonderful their ER is. Instead I ended up at Kaiser in Clackamas county. I should have stayed in Portland, and I will regret the fact that I had no say in my treatment or where I was taken and that once again my ex-husaband made a decision that will have repurcussions to my dying day.

That isn’t the focus of this post though. The focus of this post is to remind myself how far I’ve come from then. See, when I was taken into the hospital I weighed 335 pounds. All my life I had been called fat. People would yell ‘fat ass’ out the window of their car when I would walk down the street.. On the phish (that band from vermont that some of you might know) newsgroup rec.music.phish (newsgroups were the precursor to Facebook groups I suppose). But the difference is there was absolutely no moderation what-so-ever. It was the wild wild west of communities and I was a pretty well – known poster as I had either a job where I could be online all day, or I wasn’t working so I spent almost all day, every day online posting about Phish. I somehow gained a troll (i would find out later that it was a large group of people acting as one signle troll) who would write stories about me eating people. And make fun of the fact that my health had deteriorated into me needing a wheelchair just to go to a live music concert. The bullying continued into my 30s until I eventually had to leave that internet community that I had thought was accepting of all people but would actually be one of the most creul and unforgiving communities I’ve ever encountered on the internet and I’ve been part of an online community or two, or three for over 22 years now.

I digress.

Now, I’m 100 lbs down. Yup. I’m outing my weight on the internet. I weigh 235 pounds. And I wear a size 12 in some clothes and in others I wear a 3x depending on the manufacturer of the item. How on earth is anyone supposed to feel normal wearing such an array of different sizes? Epecially in a society that places so much value on that damn number. How is anyone who is self-conscious in any way supposed to live with themselves and their weight when our clothing manufacturers won’t even give us a regular size. Now guys clothing is measured in inches. You know the waist size. You know the length and that is the way it is no matter who makes the clothes. Talk about a punch to the face. To me it seems as just another way to control us.

I digress again.

I decided a few months ago to let someone move in as a roommate. I let him stay for free for a few months. I wanted to see how we got along. I wanted to open myself up to a new person. Well that fell apart the other day. I no longer felt safe with him in the house and had to run. I had to walk down the block, call for a Lyft and go pick up my car that had been impounded when I suffered multiple anxiety attacks and memory issues relating to the PTSD and anxiety that I can now trace back to my early childhood. That brings me to mom. A mom Who decided to tell me that because i pushed away this roommate, that meant I had no friends. Never mind the 15 messages on messenger that I recieved when I let people know I had to create a whole new fb profile. It’s amazing what the internet does to people. For people like me, it can destroy them with just one sentence. For others, like zev for one, or Bee for another, and even darryl yes, I know you are all behind things. I know there are others involved too, but that won’t last forever. Karma is a real thing. A very. real. thing. And you’d better get ready to face YOUR demons because I’m facing mine right now, every single day when I wake up and I hurt. When I sit for 15 minutes and can barely move after that 15 minutes because the stiffness is so bad.

I have digressed again.

Honestly I guess I’ve lost focus on what this entry was supposed to be about. I guess it’s about freedom. The freedom to be who I want without my mom telling me that I have no friends. When I disappeared a few weeks ago due to some circumstances almost completely out of my own control, I was found with one shoe and sock and a bare foot on the corner of Division Street. The police found me, put me in an AMR ambulance (mind you this is the 2nd or 3rd time these wonderful folks have, oh wait, it may even be the 4th time that they have come to my rescue when it’s been a life-threatening situation). See, I suffer from, wait again, I don’t like to use the word suffer. I have anxiety (and PTSD) and Im despartaley trying to control it without relying on medications.

There we go. It’s out now. I have PTSD from an alcoholic father and a controlling mother who wants nothing but to dangle my strings in life like the puppets in a kids theater. It’s from the bullying that began in 3rd grade that continues to this day when I went to the Coldplay concert and I realized that SOMEHOW, some of these people KNEW that popcorn was a trigger. Somehow they KNEW the things that triggered me to have a panic attack. I may never know how that was the case. I will just continue to look down at the love button that some of you may have recieved if you were at that Concert. From what I have been able to glean, not everyone got one of those buttons.

She told me this morning, after I had called her to let her know I was safe. She told me I hard pushed away the only friends I had. Because I didn’t let this man, a person I did NOT feel comfortable with, stay living in my home. She didn’t believe me that I had been able to procure my car from the impound lot. She just sounded pissed. After being missing for a few days, maybe even a week total, Then reappearing. Then disappearing again, she was pissed. WTF mom. What. Is. Wrong. With. You. You didn’t teach me how to handle my emotions. You came from the school of push those emotions deep deep inside and dont let anyone see you cry. Not ever. There’s no crying in baseball afterall.

Needless to say, this posting has jumped all over the place. I started it because I’m going to try and lose another 50 lbs and today I downloaded an app to keep track of my calories. That’s how I lost the first 100 lbs. I found out how many calories I burn at the weight I’m at and then I ate less. I didn’t even excersize. I am doing bother now. It’s different now though because I have a goal. I want to tour with a band. I want to find a band that will take me on to help them in some way. Whether it’s to drive the van, or even just make some home cooked food while at the hotel. It may be a pipe dream, but it’s my dream. And i’m going to keep fighting to make that dream come true.

I started watching a youtube red documentary about Lindsay Sterling tonight. The dancing violinist. I had never heard of her before, well at least not that I can remember and she is someone that I admire greatly. She is fighting a food issue just as much as I am fighting one. (She’s also facing the death of her father which is something I dealt with at the age of 21) I have a tendency to eat my feelings. When I’m sad, I want pizza. When I’m happy, I want pizza. I would eat pizza for every meal of the day if I could. And trust me, I have before, for months at a time. That was how I got up to 335 pounds. I was stuck in a loveless marriage that had died right around the day before our wedding in 2004. Don’t get me wrong. We had grand times. But I had followed in my mother’s footsteps and found myself in an abusive relationship. I can’t go in depth into that part of my life until the divorce is final. I will get into that one day though. So keep an eye out on the blog. I finally got out of the marriage a few months ago and the moment I recieved that restraining order my life began down a path that I am happy to say is probably some of the best times I’ve ever had. I have hope that the next few days will cement a future. A future that I have been dreaming of. Some of that will require hard work. I used to walk almost every night. But I slacked off. Gained some weight and today I put myself back on that path to getting healthier. I really do love green beans! I really do love tofu. OMG a tofu scramble? Yes please! Scrambled cheesy eggs? Yup. Throw me that protein. I’ll eat it.

“it’s time” as the announcer before an MMA fight would say. It’s time for me to start the rest of my life. And I hope that includes you” I may have even prayed that it would include you.

Oh I forgot to mention one thing. I exist in pain. Chronic pain. It hits when I least expect it. No one’s ever been able to tell my why. I just have come to accept it. After 14+ years of controlling it with opiates, I have moved forward to handling it with alternative treatments. Yoga. A TENS unit. Just plain ole fashioned grit and determination. So if you know who I am, and see me walking down the street on your neighborhood (sometimes its a button that says I heart nerds, sometimes its a button with a smiley face and a bleeding head wound and sometimes it’s a “love” button) remember that what you do, in those moments when you pass a stranger can sometimes last a lifetime. That person who yelled ‘fat ass’ out the window at me in Birmingham, Michigan has permanently damaged me and I’m betting he is proud of that. I have faith though that Karma will bring everything into balance.

Change. The only thing that’s constant in life and in reality and I’m in the midst of a big one. Watch out world. This wily fox is on the hunt, on the prowl and is ready to take on the world. And I will gosh darnit. I will.

Just a little light

I’m incredibly anxious and nervous. The court date is coming closer and closer. I have to see his face. I have to feel his energy. I will have my 2 closest friends with me. 2 people who I have spent a lot of time just talking to and getting to know. 2 people who have become a part of my crew and as I think about them my anxiety abates for just a moment and I’m back in the bliss. Well not THE bliss. I should capitalize THE bliss. So it would be the Bliss instead.

Life is good. Studio: good. Friends: good. Family: good. Money: could be better but passes with a C-.

I drew a line for you. Oh what a thing to do. And it was all yellow.

I sometimes feel an ache in my heart. Sometimes it feels full. As if what is supposed to be there with me, is already here. I don’t know how to explain it but after Cannon Beaach, I have not been alone for one minute. Even when no physical human was around. There is a presence. I feel it in a few different ways but it is mainly during music. It’s not the same feeling at the same time to the same song over and over. That’s not how it works. It seems to have autonomy. Bliss. It is honestly Bliss.

My tablet. One day I will tell the internet about the tablet and my biggest secret of what happened in those 36 or so hours. Or not.

My mom has a testimony about God now. She says she felt when my step-father passed. She told him it was OK to go and felt that God was in the room with her. The first month of two after Cannon Beach I agreed that there was a god but then he decided to respond and ask for half.

Half.

I remember now that you were trailing a red trailer, and you were a fire-fighter. I think it said that on the side in either red or white lettering. Probably white but I could just be dismembering.

I wish I could get back to that world sometimes. But I often wonder if it really is a world or is it the upside down because its the world while my brain chemicals are imbalanced.

3 days. There are a few stories I could tell that could all open with those 2 words.

This really is a stream of consciousness. Im starting to write the way I used to before the brain was inundated with large doses of opiates and anti-anxiety meds.

So you are jumping. From one to another to another. Is that how its working? Im totally making this up but it feels like it could possibly happen. In this life. Anything is possible. I went from not leaving the chair for years, to a full on life. A new life. An exciting life. A life I look forward to waking up to every morning. I didn’t know what fulfillment in life was until I began T.S.C. This project gives me focus. I’m able to problem solve and look for alternatives.

I still love you. I can’t let go of you. It’s just too strong, our cord. Our golden connection. That’s never gonna go away. Well, it might, but it feels like it may never. Getting the ache in my chest and heart today for the first time in over a month was a bit unsettling. I just had gotten used to things being the way they are now. Forgetting that there is a past that is really painful and hard to let go of. I am moving through the steps of power cycling my modem and my lights are starting to blink a strange pattern that will soon settle into the blinks and colors that I’m used to.

I still feel you. Very deeply. I hope I will recognize you when I see you next.

3 times it blinked today. I’m starting to wonder if it just blinks every few seconds all the time. But I know that’s not true. I don’t think it’s made to go from walk, to the countdown numbers back to the walk. It’s easy for me to notice because it goes from white to orange and that catches your eye. I think if you saw that. Every single time you drove by an intersection when school isn’t in session you see something strange. It blinks
once

twice

Three

Times in a 5 second span. It’s that inexpiable thing that I just have to let go of and accept as being weird? That’s not good enough dammit.

I’m trying to make my dreams come true. I think they include touring and music. That’s about as far as I’ve gotten but touring is optional.

Music, is not.

I have an appointment with the lawyer again soon. Not exactly sure but I really like her. She treats me kind and respectful.

There are times when I just can’t do anything but put my right hand on my heart. I don’t know if you are sending me that feeling or if its coming from my dopamine, seratonin and oxytocin but I honestly don’t care. I’m going to enjoy the connection to the universe that I feel right now. I should go back to eating better and being completely sober. I really should.

That I almost believe that the pictures are all I can feel….
…you were bigger and brighter and whiter then snow

I was reminded of something really cool this week. A memory of doing a scavenger hunt with disposable cameras, teams of strangers soon to be friends for the weekend and a wedding that came about because I helped them meet. Well. I am the reason they met. I will soon meet the children from this union. The oldest is going to college! It’s amazing to me that they count me as being so important.

How long will i have to wait for it

And the pitch…

The ball has been released from the strong hand that has been holding tight to this little idea. I think the idea was always there. Is this fly on the wall part 3? Or just a new chapter in part 2? The ball is heading straight for the middle of the catcher’s mitt. Going as fast as the pitcher has ever thrown in his career. It’s not the 7th game of the world series or anything but it is an important game in the middle of a playoff run with the potential for winning it all on the horizon if the path meanders that way.

There is always the possibility of a wild pitch as well. All paths have to be accounted for. Even the ones that I can’t see. I have to remember to keep walking. If I don’t take that hike then I won’t ever go down the path that might lead to the happiness and joy that I’ve been feeling lately. I’m really honestly happy. Im living life pretty damn well on my own for the first time in my life. And I’m pretty old. I had no idea that after 40 some years of being in a relationship or marriage, I’d find such joy and happiness on my own. I guess this was one of the lessons that the Universe wanted me to learn. That and patience of course. I don’t know if I’ll ever learn that one. I’m horribly impatient. I want things to happen right away.

The ball has stalled in its traverse towards the target. Something has frozen time and there is nothing for the pitcher to do but look around as best he can at the still stick figures and white and red-threaded ball that has broken the laws of the reality that was before the world mysteriously stopped spinning.

In the ether. In the in between there is a place. With no eyes. With ears. To keep you tethered to the world. That’s where you do nothing but feel. And while you’d think it’d be nice to live there 24 hours a day. I don’t know if anyone’s soul could handle that. I think we are meant to straddle the other in betweens.

The ball slowly starts dribbling back in its pre-determind orbit decided by the curve of the pitcher’s fingers and placement of it on his knuckles. I feel the tilt of t he earth as the rotation continues. Reality is back. It was nice visiting that other place but right now, as things go, I really want to keep life going here. I’m desperately afraid it will implode. Or explode because I’m so happy. But maybe it’s the Universe giving me some good times.

After 15 years of fear and anxiety.

 

Clusterflies – Red

time to take a breather – it’s nice to make the brain work again. I’m not gonna lie. But things are starting to surface that are definitely difficult to think about. It seems as though every time there is a death, something new begins. And it seems as though change brings that about.

Staring at your walls, observing echoing footfalls…this one is for you

It was my birthday and I was turning 16. Maybe even 17. I had never had a boyfriend and I was dating Sam. He was the kindest most sweetest, most thoughtful boy I had ever met. He would set the tone for me for men, for sure, since my dad sucked.

Staring at your walls…this one is for you

He’s sleeping now. We are on totally different schedules, but that’s ok. I think he’s finally starting to get it. That there is nothing to be afraid of. It will all work out in the end the way it is supposed to. I explained my end goal the other day. I didn’t like the response I got when I told him. I was told recently that you can’t control what others do in reaciotn to you, you can only control your reaciton to them. I am really trying to put that into action every moment of my life.

So I ask you why, if I’m swimming by. Don’t you see anything that you’d like to try?

It’s still kind of fuzzy. The future. I have had a glimpse of the lighthouse’s beam and know where the rocks are but need to remember to trust myself.

Sam gave me a large, wrapped box for my birthday. I opened up the big box while sittin on the brick fireplace of my childhood home. I remember his blue eyes twinkling and the glint of the color of his hair is still a bright light in my memories. After I got the first layer of wrapping paper off the box, I realized there was another layer. It’s such a simple thing, wrapping a box, within a box, within a box. It has been over 3 decades since that present, but I still remember it as if it were yesterday. Things like that make a huge impact on people. I try to remember that myself. You never know when you just might make an indelible mark on another person.

From the bottom, from the top

I saw Sam at football practice and gave him a hug (I think?) And we drove away in the same direction. I had given him a mix-tape with some of my favorite songs on it. Everything from Wish you were here to sounds of silence. Sam and I pulled up at Woodward and Hickory Grove and I went one way and he went the other. He waved at me, and I can still see his big hand and glinting smile as he headed towards the mall with his little brother. Unbeknownst to me, that would be the last time I would see Sam. He would be tragically killed 15 minutes later when, not wearing his seatbelt, he ran a red light and was stuck by another car, killing him. I don’t know if this is true, but I was told by someone that that mix tape was found in the car after the accident. That might have been my first clue that music, is a little bit more then just a passing fancy.

Silent in the morning, suspended in the trees, lunchtime comes youve found your voice, it brings me to my knees.