A few weeks ago, after a customer commented on my new tattoo, I realized that I am growing up to be the person I wanted to be when I envisioned growing up. I have tats and piercings. I go to college and frequent my favorite coffee shop. My pants haven't fit my waist since I was seven, and I have the body to pull off LOW rise jeans. There are a few things that still don't work with my 15-year-old version of my 34-year-old self, but I'm getting there.
One huge component is how I live and raise our kids. I live a very modest life. My rent is my biggest bill and I gladly pay it because I love the home I have made this house into. The kids go to a laid back "hippie" school, it's a Steiner school, for anyone who wants to know. They are versed in all forms of art, music, drama and get to play in the sunshine, rain, snow mud and anything in between. They play sports and Number 3 is joining the Earth Scouts this month. I work only three days a week and go to school five days a week. My loans pay for most of my expenses right now. I weighed the consequences of taking out so much money to the benefit of being able to concentrate on my school work and, most important to me, being able to be with the kids.
My friend emailed me today and asked for advice. She is thinking about quitting her job and working from home. She's scared to death and asked for tips on how to do it. Without too much thinking this is the advice I gave her:
Sheer will, perseverance and faith that you can do it. Honestly, I'm not sure how I do anything anymore. I just believe that I can, take what comes and own it; good or bad. That doesn't mean I don't struggle, cry, scream, give up or complain, but at the end of one of those moments, I wipe my snot and remember that I have felt like giving up before and it's all worked out.
Most of the time, my plans are basic, not thought through. I'm not sure if that's good because I don't have expectations or bad because if I don't really have a plan, then I really don't have a back-up plan. Except I do have a back-up, I suppose. It is faith in my convictions, faith that, once again, I will be okay, faith that I am supposed to be where I am right now, no matter where it is. This isn't based in religion or God, just belief in magic, I guess. The magic in me.
I guess what I am saying is super-cliche, but follow your heart. Do what's right for you. In my case that meant breaking apart my family, losing my home and my car, leaving my friends and living without running water for 7 months. And that doesn't include what I have done to keep my relationship with Tris thriving. I believed that leaving [the kids dad], so many years ago, was what my heart was telling me to do. I believe that doing everything in my power, without giving up myself, is what I have to do for my romantic relationship. I believed that moving to Flagstaff was the best choice I could make for my family.
On my hard days, and I do have them, I remember what I believe. I make a list of the things I am grateful for and do not pause to mourn the things I have lost in my journey. If working from home is what you want to do, I support you. You may have to make a list of the things you are willing to give up to make that dream come true, but if you are willing to put them on the list in the first place, then you are probably willing to part with them. Simplifying my life was the best thing I have ever done, but that is just me. I know you will take the next step in the direction your life will take, just be willing to accept whatever direction that is.
Oh. And I make my bed every day because there is subtle satisfaction in doing one little thing for myself, even if the rest of my day is devoted to everyone else. (I learned this from my friend, Katy. In fact, she practically made me make my bed every day. Now, it's a habit and I relish in the fact that I get to slide into tight sheets every night. )
I retyped this mostly for myself. This is what I tell people and what it probably true, but from my perspective, I am only doing what I have always done. Maybe it's ordinary, maybe extraordinary, maybe it's just mi vida loca. Anyway you see it, I make my life the way I want it because, to me, there is no other option. I hope you are realizing your dreams and not letting fear hold you back from the reality that could be yours if you just jump. So plug your nose, when you are ready, and be prepared for whatever temperature that water is when you hit.
Friday, September 30, 2011
Thursday, September 01, 2011
talk to me about love
talk to me about love. there are different kinds of love.
there’s the love of a child for a parent. it is reverential, mystic, magical, necessary, obligatory. it grows with awareness, shrinks with stubbornness, then grows again with age and understanding.
likewise, the love of a parent for a child is obligatory, sacrificial, educational, so strong it can break a soul, and mostly unconditional.
friendship love is different. there’s no obligation, no ties that bind, in every moment, a choice is always present to continue loving. you can choose to sacrifice for her, be loyal to her, turn your back on her when she’s wounded, suffer through a loss with her, or feed her soul.
the love you can give to a partner is much the same, by choice. sometimes we feel morally and legally bound to suffer with and sacrifice for our lovers. sometimes we just want to; maybe for comradery, martyrdom, self punishment, empathy, sympathy, or simply because we don’t know what else to do.
all of this may (or may not) lead to love for self. love for self should be, well, selfish. there should be no comprise, sacrifice, obligation. it should always be unwavering, magical and even reverential.
there is a price to pay for other loves; and it’s mostly self love. compromise. you give a little of you, she gives a little of her; and not even at the same time. who’s the score keeper of comprise? the one with the resentments? do you have resentments because you are keeping score or are you keeping score because of your resentments?
wants and needs of a loving relationship...is there a difference? do you really need her to sleep by your side most nights? or do you just want her there? it’s nice to be warm, comforted, safe and companioned, but it is possible to fall asleep without her. do you need her to help with daily life? or do you just want her there to share in the joys, work, rewards and sorrows of family life? of course you want her there, but as proven before, she doesn’t have to help in order to get the job done. do you need her to answer the phone in a crisis? or do you just want to hear her supportive words and strong voice? the crisis will pass regardless.
do you stay in a love that is heartbreaking at the worst of times and soul changing at best, even if her soul is closed for renovations for a while? or do you choose to overlook that her soul and yours have been intertwined since heaven? when her eyes looked into yours for the first time, they read your fears and dreams. when her hand touches your body, measurable electricity is created. when she laughs, you know there has to be a God. when she cries, your heart tears open. when you make love, you know there is a possibility world peace. can you overlook these things?
you can choose to walk away. you can choose to find another, who will be all these things that she is not, but may also bring a new set of wants to the relationship. you can let go of all those what-if questions and move on. or you can keep them and wonder for the rest of your separated lives. will you always think of her when you walk into the forest? or feel her hand on your hip when a warm breeze blows your shirt? will you always feel her touch in another’s caress? smell her in a foreign place? will you always long for her arms to protect you in their strong embrace? will you remember how you fit into the c shape of her body when you two curled into each other and gave into asleep? will you regret it? or will you forget all about it?
would it be easier to never have loved her or anyone for that matter? would it be better to live an isolated life, void of any kind of love; distanced from all with the potential to love?
all love changes a person. all love is painful. all love is a choice, in the long run. what will you choose?
there’s the love of a child for a parent. it is reverential, mystic, magical, necessary, obligatory. it grows with awareness, shrinks with stubbornness, then grows again with age and understanding.
likewise, the love of a parent for a child is obligatory, sacrificial, educational, so strong it can break a soul, and mostly unconditional.
friendship love is different. there’s no obligation, no ties that bind, in every moment, a choice is always present to continue loving. you can choose to sacrifice for her, be loyal to her, turn your back on her when she’s wounded, suffer through a loss with her, or feed her soul.
the love you can give to a partner is much the same, by choice. sometimes we feel morally and legally bound to suffer with and sacrifice for our lovers. sometimes we just want to; maybe for comradery, martyrdom, self punishment, empathy, sympathy, or simply because we don’t know what else to do.
all of this may (or may not) lead to love for self. love for self should be, well, selfish. there should be no comprise, sacrifice, obligation. it should always be unwavering, magical and even reverential.
there is a price to pay for other loves; and it’s mostly self love. compromise. you give a little of you, she gives a little of her; and not even at the same time. who’s the score keeper of comprise? the one with the resentments? do you have resentments because you are keeping score or are you keeping score because of your resentments?
wants and needs of a loving relationship...is there a difference? do you really need her to sleep by your side most nights? or do you just want her there? it’s nice to be warm, comforted, safe and companioned, but it is possible to fall asleep without her. do you need her to help with daily life? or do you just want her there to share in the joys, work, rewards and sorrows of family life? of course you want her there, but as proven before, she doesn’t have to help in order to get the job done. do you need her to answer the phone in a crisis? or do you just want to hear her supportive words and strong voice? the crisis will pass regardless.
do you stay in a love that is heartbreaking at the worst of times and soul changing at best, even if her soul is closed for renovations for a while? or do you choose to overlook that her soul and yours have been intertwined since heaven? when her eyes looked into yours for the first time, they read your fears and dreams. when her hand touches your body, measurable electricity is created. when she laughs, you know there has to be a God. when she cries, your heart tears open. when you make love, you know there is a possibility world peace. can you overlook these things?
you can choose to walk away. you can choose to find another, who will be all these things that she is not, but may also bring a new set of wants to the relationship. you can let go of all those what-if questions and move on. or you can keep them and wonder for the rest of your separated lives. will you always think of her when you walk into the forest? or feel her hand on your hip when a warm breeze blows your shirt? will you always feel her touch in another’s caress? smell her in a foreign place? will you always long for her arms to protect you in their strong embrace? will you remember how you fit into the c shape of her body when you two curled into each other and gave into asleep? will you regret it? or will you forget all about it?
would it be easier to never have loved her or anyone for that matter? would it be better to live an isolated life, void of any kind of love; distanced from all with the potential to love?
all love changes a person. all love is painful. all love is a choice, in the long run. what will you choose?
Tuesday, July 19, 2011
fifteen months
I have been dealing with alcoholism and all the behaviors that accompany it for a little over a year. I have loved my alcoholic for over two years, but did not recognize the alcoholism for almost a year. It's quite a touchy subject to write about because some of you who follow know the person that I am effected by. I have wanted to share my story for a long time, but I know that I have to be in a non-emotional space in my head to do that. It seems that today may be that day. The purpose of this post is not to bitch about my life, it is to enlighten everyone, whether or not you are affected by alcoholism.
Being consistently drawn to people afflicted with the disease of alcoholism is a disease in itself. It is a form of co-dependency. Co-dependents often feel the need to help anyone and everyone, even, and maybe especially, when they don't ask for help. For me, in the beginning of this current relationship, I would just pop up with lunch when she didn't have any. I would research some herbal way to get her through some medical ailment, then purchase the supplies. I would take charge of her recovery, when she decided that going dry was a good idea. All of this I did without her asking. I felt that I anticipated her needs and hat made me a good girlfriend. I ignored the problem, then I stressed about it. I paid for doctors visits, before we were serious. (Let's be real, we were serious from the beginning, after all, we are lesbians!) Then I played the victim. I do all this for her and she can't even stay sober at such and such event. I hold her barf pan and stay up all night making sure she doesn't die of alcohol poisoning and she can't even (insert whatever I felt she should be doing here..) I felt entitled to be listened to and have my advice followed because I did all these things for her.
Then one day, after almost a year being together, but only a few months of feeling inadequate and less important than alcohol, it clicked. She has a problem with alcohol. My dear friend had been telling me this for a while now, but I didn't listen. I made many excuses for her behavior, another symptom of my disease. I lied to myself and to others. She only over-drinks on the weekends, she only really drinks beer, I've only seen her drunk only a handful of times and so on. I began talking to others living with/in alcoholism. Their stories were mine, although some were not. My alcoholic is quite functioning compared to others. (Even now, I feel the compulsive need to defend her. She's a good person. Those that know her can attest to that, those of you who don't can just take my word for it.)
I decided to seek help for me to deal with her problems. Can anyone see the problem there? I made a decision to be completely honest with my councilor, which seems like the logical thing to do, but I had gone to see a councilor before, but only told half the story. During the intake, after only an hour, L, the councilor, told me that I was co-dependent and that I was most likely in a relationship with an alcoholic. I was freaking out. I kept saying "I can hang out alone. I can go to the movies, out to eat, to the bar, and whatnot, alone". I came home and relayed the info to a friend who confirmed with a "Duh!". Friend after friend said the same thing. They were all wrong. They had to be.
Upon insistence from L, I read Facing Love Addiction, by Pia Mellody. Are any of you familiar with the 5 stages of grief? Stage one is shock and denial. I was shocked that there was something wrong with me! Afterall, I went to the councilor to get a diagnosis for her! Then I quickly accepted and five minutes later, I denied it again. This has happened continuously throughout my 15 month journey. I was even in a state of denial last week. Stage five is acceptance. I would say that I am there...most of the time. Owning up to my shortcomings has been extremely humbly and sometimes even makes me feel a little self righteous, because I can see my addiction in others so quickly.
I started going to Al-Anon meetings. Al-Anon is a twelve step program based on Alcoholics Anonymous (AA). I have been slow and thorough going through my steps. Just as I committed to honesty with my councilor, I also committed to honesty within the program. I am not going to push Al-Anon on anyone. It's not perfect, neither is anyone who goes to meetings. We all have short-comings, we all fall back into our holes of self-pity and self-righteousness and we all still enable our fellows to depend on us. The difference is that now, I see my shortcomings, I can crawl out of my hole faster and sometimes even sidestep the hole in the first place and I recognize my enabling and ask for help to contain it. I don't take on the world, only biting off what I can comfortably chew. It feels good to be in those rooms. I can be myself, in all my sadness and joy.
I also attend an AA meeting once a week. Hearing the stories of recovering alcoholics gives me hope. They still struggle. Even though the disease is under control, they still have it. I have seen women I love fall in and out and, humbly, back in to recovery. I have heard the stories of debauchery. I have been to some of the places they describe with my alcoholic. I find hope in that room that recovery, mine and hers, will be in our home someday.
She still actively drinks. I am not ready to give up on her, although I sometimes think life would be easier without her in it. All I can do is continue to get some sort of recovery myself. When I feel the angriest or lowest is when I have to force myself into those rooms. When I am happy and have joy to spread, I need to be in the rooms, because there may be someone who is at their lowest who may see me and feel hope, as has happened to me. I am not cured, not even close. I have not even begun to dig deep, but healing is beginning to happen for me. I feel an ounce of strength and hope today and that is better than yesterday.
Being consistently drawn to people afflicted with the disease of alcoholism is a disease in itself. It is a form of co-dependency. Co-dependents often feel the need to help anyone and everyone, even, and maybe especially, when they don't ask for help. For me, in the beginning of this current relationship, I would just pop up with lunch when she didn't have any. I would research some herbal way to get her through some medical ailment, then purchase the supplies. I would take charge of her recovery, when she decided that going dry was a good idea. All of this I did without her asking. I felt that I anticipated her needs and hat made me a good girlfriend. I ignored the problem, then I stressed about it. I paid for doctors visits, before we were serious. (Let's be real, we were serious from the beginning, after all, we are lesbians!) Then I played the victim. I do all this for her and she can't even stay sober at such and such event. I hold her barf pan and stay up all night making sure she doesn't die of alcohol poisoning and she can't even (insert whatever I felt she should be doing here..) I felt entitled to be listened to and have my advice followed because I did all these things for her.
Then one day, after almost a year being together, but only a few months of feeling inadequate and less important than alcohol, it clicked. She has a problem with alcohol. My dear friend had been telling me this for a while now, but I didn't listen. I made many excuses for her behavior, another symptom of my disease. I lied to myself and to others. She only over-drinks on the weekends, she only really drinks beer, I've only seen her drunk only a handful of times and so on. I began talking to others living with/in alcoholism. Their stories were mine, although some were not. My alcoholic is quite functioning compared to others. (Even now, I feel the compulsive need to defend her. She's a good person. Those that know her can attest to that, those of you who don't can just take my word for it.)
I decided to seek help for me to deal with her problems. Can anyone see the problem there? I made a decision to be completely honest with my councilor, which seems like the logical thing to do, but I had gone to see a councilor before, but only told half the story. During the intake, after only an hour, L, the councilor, told me that I was co-dependent and that I was most likely in a relationship with an alcoholic. I was freaking out. I kept saying "I can hang out alone. I can go to the movies, out to eat, to the bar, and whatnot, alone". I came home and relayed the info to a friend who confirmed with a "Duh!". Friend after friend said the same thing. They were all wrong. They had to be.
Upon insistence from L, I read Facing Love Addiction, by Pia Mellody. Are any of you familiar with the 5 stages of grief? Stage one is shock and denial. I was shocked that there was something wrong with me! Afterall, I went to the councilor to get a diagnosis for her! Then I quickly accepted and five minutes later, I denied it again. This has happened continuously throughout my 15 month journey. I was even in a state of denial last week. Stage five is acceptance. I would say that I am there...most of the time. Owning up to my shortcomings has been extremely humbly and sometimes even makes me feel a little self righteous, because I can see my addiction in others so quickly.
I started going to Al-Anon meetings. Al-Anon is a twelve step program based on Alcoholics Anonymous (AA). I have been slow and thorough going through my steps. Just as I committed to honesty with my councilor, I also committed to honesty within the program. I am not going to push Al-Anon on anyone. It's not perfect, neither is anyone who goes to meetings. We all have short-comings, we all fall back into our holes of self-pity and self-righteousness and we all still enable our fellows to depend on us. The difference is that now, I see my shortcomings, I can crawl out of my hole faster and sometimes even sidestep the hole in the first place and I recognize my enabling and ask for help to contain it. I don't take on the world, only biting off what I can comfortably chew. It feels good to be in those rooms. I can be myself, in all my sadness and joy.
I also attend an AA meeting once a week. Hearing the stories of recovering alcoholics gives me hope. They still struggle. Even though the disease is under control, they still have it. I have seen women I love fall in and out and, humbly, back in to recovery. I have heard the stories of debauchery. I have been to some of the places they describe with my alcoholic. I find hope in that room that recovery, mine and hers, will be in our home someday.
She still actively drinks. I am not ready to give up on her, although I sometimes think life would be easier without her in it. All I can do is continue to get some sort of recovery myself. When I feel the angriest or lowest is when I have to force myself into those rooms. When I am happy and have joy to spread, I need to be in the rooms, because there may be someone who is at their lowest who may see me and feel hope, as has happened to me. I am not cured, not even close. I have not even begun to dig deep, but healing is beginning to happen for me. I feel an ounce of strength and hope today and that is better than yesterday.
Tuesday, March 29, 2011
Thank You!
I know I haven't written on this blog, or any of my others for that matter, in forever, but I am grateful to everyone who follows my rambles.
Moving has been a little rough. More than a little I guess since I haven't even been able to write, but today the sun is shing and I can smile. My friend Leaner, who comments frequently on this blog had her third lovely baby this morning. It was a home birth. Congrats to you, love, and I wish you and your family my very best. I can't wait to read your birth story. I wish I could be there to meet little N!
Pushing for positive. I may be boring and non-emo for a while. Well, let's hope so. This is my life afterall and I can make it whatever I want.
Moving has been a little rough. More than a little I guess since I haven't even been able to write, but today the sun is shing and I can smile. My friend Leaner, who comments frequently on this blog had her third lovely baby this morning. It was a home birth. Congrats to you, love, and I wish you and your family my very best. I can't wait to read your birth story. I wish I could be there to meet little N!
Pushing for positive. I may be boring and non-emo for a while. Well, let's hope so. This is my life afterall and I can make it whatever I want.
Monday, December 13, 2010
Status Update
Sometimes I want my status update to say, "Hating myself right now." But I don't really want to hear from people regarding that. I just want to get it off my chest. Not really loving myself lately. Feeling like all I do is not really right. It's wrong in fact. Except that I know I do things that are good and right, but I let the screw ups over shadow them. I haven't been like this in a long time. It's a familiar, sickening feeling. Unwelcome and uncontrollably here. I am 33. Shouldn't be in control of my emotions by now? Shouldn't I be able to resist the urge to cry? I feel like a damn teenager.
Tuesday, November 16, 2010
In Silence
That's how I spend much of my week. I keep my mouth shut and my ears open. I learn about the people around me simply by listening. I still make judgements, but I don't do it out loud as often. In my silence, I listen to my own inner voice. I really pay attention to the thoughts in my head. I rationalize in a more rational manner. Being silent has it's draw backs. I question myself regularly. That's a very uncomfortable place for someone who is always right to be in. I make peace with myself more often and more quickly now. In a way I mourn the loss of my silence during the weekend. Alone, but not lonely. Ok with myself. What a place to be.
Wednesday, September 15, 2010
The Next Right Action
It has become apparent that I am the cause, root and be all end all of my problems. No surprise right? But nobody likes to look at themselves and acknowledge that. I did and now I am confessing it to all of you. I am it. I make my problems. I solve them, in by no means the best way possible, but with the only tools I have ever known.
Some words one never wants to hear, "I love you, but I don't know how to feel. You make me feel so guilty." And I do. I have done it to all my lovers. The only tool I have to fix that is silence. I just won't talk about it. That way the other person thinks all is peachy, while I struggle to convey my feelings without anyone feeling guilty. That actually doesn't work either, but what else do I have?
This isn't a poor me post. I am responsible for making men feel small, pissing off all of my relatives and pushing away my girlfriend. Just me. Not her. Not anyone else.
So tell me, what is the next right action?
Some words one never wants to hear, "I love you, but I don't know how to feel. You make me feel so guilty." And I do. I have done it to all my lovers. The only tool I have to fix that is silence. I just won't talk about it. That way the other person thinks all is peachy, while I struggle to convey my feelings without anyone feeling guilty. That actually doesn't work either, but what else do I have?
This isn't a poor me post. I am responsible for making men feel small, pissing off all of my relatives and pushing away my girlfriend. Just me. Not her. Not anyone else.
So tell me, what is the next right action?
Tuesday, August 10, 2010
changes
It's been a month of intense changes, true honesty, heartbreak, love, friendship and decision. We are doing well. Al-Anon is working out for our family, for me. I have a sponsor and I am working on working the steps. There are preparations that need to be done first; mainly reading reading reading.
She and I have had some amazingly emotional days. She supports me and my quest for health without admitting a problem herself. I question whether it really is a problem or not. I liked being in the dark and ignorant bliss almost as much as I am beginning to like being upfront and honest with her and myself. She is my life, my grown up life. We have the boys. We are a family.
She is taking a job in far far away land; like four hours away land. The kids and I are moving to two hours from here, two hours from her land. We chose this place to be closer to making our dream of homesteading a reality. I will continue to go to school, a slightly different major, or should I say majors? Forestry coupled with an applied environmental science. It's a good place for me to be.
I am scared shitless about selling my house. It is worth nothing and I did nothing to deserve a house worth nothing. I bought before the big housing boom, I read my paperwork, I knew what my budgetary limits were, I paid on time every month and I am the one being royally screwed. For NOT screwing up! On top of the "housing crisis", I have to contend with my hispanic neighbors, nearly 90% of my neighborhood, fleeing because the idiotic governor signed an awful bill making racial profiling legal! Bend over, insert bureaucratic cock! I have nothing to lose by not paying my mortgage anymore, I suppose.
I haven't told many of my friends that we are moving yet because it won;t actually happen before this semester is over. I have told him that we are moving and that we are taking the kids, but he hasn't responded. It could get ugly. Tomorrow is a big day for he and I. I am filing child support papers, which should surprise the shit out of him because he thinks that he doesn't have to pay. I really never thought this would get ugly. I am also, finally, filing for divorce. I know, I know. And I can tell you why I didn't already, but it really doesn't matter.
So there is the last month really wrapped up tight in a nutshell. I want to write more, but i seem really blocked right now, so a short update is all I have for right now. Even the other blog is suffering my word block. Sigh...
She and I have had some amazingly emotional days. She supports me and my quest for health without admitting a problem herself. I question whether it really is a problem or not. I liked being in the dark and ignorant bliss almost as much as I am beginning to like being upfront and honest with her and myself. She is my life, my grown up life. We have the boys. We are a family.
She is taking a job in far far away land; like four hours away land. The kids and I are moving to two hours from here, two hours from her land. We chose this place to be closer to making our dream of homesteading a reality. I will continue to go to school, a slightly different major, or should I say majors? Forestry coupled with an applied environmental science. It's a good place for me to be.
I am scared shitless about selling my house. It is worth nothing and I did nothing to deserve a house worth nothing. I bought before the big housing boom, I read my paperwork, I knew what my budgetary limits were, I paid on time every month and I am the one being royally screwed. For NOT screwing up! On top of the "housing crisis", I have to contend with my hispanic neighbors, nearly 90% of my neighborhood, fleeing because the idiotic governor signed an awful bill making racial profiling legal! Bend over, insert bureaucratic cock! I have nothing to lose by not paying my mortgage anymore, I suppose.
I haven't told many of my friends that we are moving yet because it won;t actually happen before this semester is over. I have told him that we are moving and that we are taking the kids, but he hasn't responded. It could get ugly. Tomorrow is a big day for he and I. I am filing child support papers, which should surprise the shit out of him because he thinks that he doesn't have to pay. I really never thought this would get ugly. I am also, finally, filing for divorce. I know, I know. And I can tell you why I didn't already, but it really doesn't matter.
So there is the last month really wrapped up tight in a nutshell. I want to write more, but i seem really blocked right now, so a short update is all I have for right now. Even the other blog is suffering my word block. Sigh...
Thursday, July 22, 2010
On Honesty
We returned from Alaska a week ago. The trip was good. Well worth the really dismal state of financial affairs we are wading through. She and I spent 9 days completely with each other. We talked, we cried, we took photographs and we laughed. I heard her laugh. That song I love so much. Her smile shined like the sun that was stuck behind the clouds through most of Canada. She was sober. She was guarded. I was very guarded. I told her about going to Al-Anon and liking it. I did not tell her I wanted to go back. I felt ashamed to be needing to feel that connection. I felt sad thinking that she would be feeling judged. I felt scared that she would leave me because I couldn't deal on my own.
Fast forward to present. That lovely sobriety has ended, but this time, I was able to self-talk my brain into believing that it was solely her choice and I have no control over her in any way. How can she hit rock bottom when I stand in her way? I have good days and bad days. I finally told her that I was going to go back to Al-Anon weekly. She agreed that it may be good for me, but not because of her. I am working only on me. I am establishing boundaries where ones were just assumed. My assumptions were correct for some and dead wrong for others. Up until last night, I was not being completely honest with her. She hurts me sometimes, though never intentionally. This hurt has nothing to do with the drinking. Curbing this hurt is another area of self-talk I am becoming proficient in. What it is that hurts is of no relevance on this blog, but what came of last night may be.
She asked me if I was frustrated by it. She knew I was, but it was a huge elephant in the room that we both have tried desperately to ignore. I said yes. No hesitation, no more guarding, just simply, Yes. I told her all I have been feeling. All the thoughts of self deprecation and the self-talk to leave those thoughts behind. I told her my observations and asked if I am wrong about them. I hurt her. Or rather a pain she has been hiding came forward. Neither of us is at fault for this. Neither of us has brought this pain, but we both retain it. Especially her.
I woke up this morning lighter than yesterday, which was heavier than normal. I woke up today knowing the weight of my honesty on her. How could I have been so selfish as to have thought I was dropping my load when really she was right behind me picking up my honesty, piece by heavy piece, and placing it square on her shoulders. Another load to bear. Another person she feels responsible for hurting. Any one of you can tell me that she chooses to carry this burden, she can choose not to. My logical brain knows this, my emotional brain has just begun new growth and still lingers in it's old ways. I love her. This millstone was to be unloaded by me, never to be picked up again by either of us. How can I tell her to drop it? How can I be honest while still being sensitive to her propensity to take on the hurts of loved ones?
Fast forward to present. That lovely sobriety has ended, but this time, I was able to self-talk my brain into believing that it was solely her choice and I have no control over her in any way. How can she hit rock bottom when I stand in her way? I have good days and bad days. I finally told her that I was going to go back to Al-Anon weekly. She agreed that it may be good for me, but not because of her. I am working only on me. I am establishing boundaries where ones were just assumed. My assumptions were correct for some and dead wrong for others. Up until last night, I was not being completely honest with her. She hurts me sometimes, though never intentionally. This hurt has nothing to do with the drinking. Curbing this hurt is another area of self-talk I am becoming proficient in. What it is that hurts is of no relevance on this blog, but what came of last night may be.
She asked me if I was frustrated by it. She knew I was, but it was a huge elephant in the room that we both have tried desperately to ignore. I said yes. No hesitation, no more guarding, just simply, Yes. I told her all I have been feeling. All the thoughts of self deprecation and the self-talk to leave those thoughts behind. I told her my observations and asked if I am wrong about them. I hurt her. Or rather a pain she has been hiding came forward. Neither of us is at fault for this. Neither of us has brought this pain, but we both retain it. Especially her.
I woke up this morning lighter than yesterday, which was heavier than normal. I woke up today knowing the weight of my honesty on her. How could I have been so selfish as to have thought I was dropping my load when really she was right behind me picking up my honesty, piece by heavy piece, and placing it square on her shoulders. Another load to bear. Another person she feels responsible for hurting. Any one of you can tell me that she chooses to carry this burden, she can choose not to. My logical brain knows this, my emotional brain has just begun new growth and still lingers in it's old ways. I love her. This millstone was to be unloaded by me, never to be picked up again by either of us. How can I tell her to drop it? How can I be honest while still being sensitive to her propensity to take on the hurts of loved ones?
Thursday, June 17, 2010
It seems like:
All I ever do is bitch about the negative things in my life on this blog, huh? Well I kinda do. This is more my super secret hideout for when I feel so bad I am not sure what to do, so I write. I want to let my few readers know that I do have another blog that is kept much more current and is a little less emo. It is called Two Queer Hippies. I am not just a pile of mushy emotional crap, I actually do things too!
Also, after my super emotional weekend, I realized that I have hit my rock bottom with her drinking and I am now, at the insistance of my friends and therapist, going to Al-Anon. I chose to go. I do not feel forced and, boy, after my first meeting, I felt better. Even though it seems like I am all alone in this, even after I hear others stories, I for sure know I am not now. I know that it is ok and good to love her, I just need to find a different way to show her. She is my soulmate. For better of for worse, that's what I am signed on for. I just hope she still feels the same way.
I am going on a solo roadtrip to Alaska, starting tomorrow afternoon. I will try to be updating as I go. Some of the posts may be the same on both blogs, but you know there will be emo stuff on here. Haha. Akthough the roadtrip portion is solo, I am meeting her up there. She is also taking a roadtrip of sorts, She is doing a motorcycle endurance race called Hoka Hey. Seven thousand miles on a Sportster! She's crazy and I love her. I haven't told her that I am going to Al-Anon. I plan to tell her on this trip. I am pretty sure she will support me, since she doesn't dispute having a problem.
Viva Alaska!
Also, after my super emotional weekend, I realized that I have hit my rock bottom with her drinking and I am now, at the insistance of my friends and therapist, going to Al-Anon. I chose to go. I do not feel forced and, boy, after my first meeting, I felt better. Even though it seems like I am all alone in this, even after I hear others stories, I for sure know I am not now. I know that it is ok and good to love her, I just need to find a different way to show her. She is my soulmate. For better of for worse, that's what I am signed on for. I just hope she still feels the same way.
I am going on a solo roadtrip to Alaska, starting tomorrow afternoon. I will try to be updating as I go. Some of the posts may be the same on both blogs, but you know there will be emo stuff on here. Haha. Akthough the roadtrip portion is solo, I am meeting her up there. She is also taking a roadtrip of sorts, She is doing a motorcycle endurance race called Hoka Hey. Seven thousand miles on a Sportster! She's crazy and I love her. I haven't told her that I am going to Al-Anon. I plan to tell her on this trip. I am pretty sure she will support me, since she doesn't dispute having a problem.
Viva Alaska!
Sunday, June 13, 2010
A Letter To All Bar Owners and Bartenders
To All of You:
You dispense a killer liquid. If it doesn't take the body off this earth, which eventually it does, it takes the mind. It takes families and breaks them, shatters them, ruins them. And I am not so naive to think that it's you. I am fully aware of the responsibility of the drinker themselves. They ask for it. But in some ways then, doesn't the drunk girl at the frat party when she acts promiscuously and gets raped? Neither is informed coherent consent. Both are taking from the body and the soul and the mind. One is a blatant violation, the other is also a violation, but one we as a society believe can be chosen by the drinker.
We want all these freedoms to choose for ourselves what is good for us and what is not. I am not even sure what I am trying to say. I am angry. I am angry that you keep serving after a person has clearly had enough. I am angry that you ignore the part after they leave your bar. I am angry about how many people I see driving away after having asked for and been served way too many. All in the name of what? Freedom to choose? Sustaining a business? Greed? Ignorance? Why do you keep doing it?
My life is being destroyed. The woman I love can't stop. You have the power to tell her no. It may not be her choice. She may be mad at you. It may not even save us. But it could save her. A person you call your friend. Please. And don't worry, I have also spoken to her. I have asked her to stop, but she can't. It's this driving force. It's this demon. It's this fear that you won't all love her if you don't have that liquid toxin in common.
From the outside I can see that you won't remain friends when she stops ingesting your poison, but I don't tell her that. I don't tell her that in the end, it will be her eyes opening to the fact that she really has nothing in common with those who see no other way. Right now, I don't even tell her that if her eyes don't open soon, she will lose us. And we will lose her, more. We have already lost whole parts of her. So how about helping me? How about helping all of us? You could have a clear conscience and fall asleep right away, knowing that your "friends" made it home safe. You can know one family survived. One family is thriving. One family is pushing through recovery. Because we are a strong family, but right now we are on our knees, even the little ones, trying desperately to hold onto what we know we had, but can hardly remember.
I know you are not a cold person. I know that the demon is in the drink. I know that she chooses it, she chooses you. I know that she alone can make the decision to quit. She did last night, at the lowest I have ever seen her. Which, by the way, was very low. I have also made the decision to not enable her anymore. The only things I did last night for her were to drive her home, get her water and get her a pan to puke in. I watched her puke. I watched her pass out on the bathroom floor. I watched her struggle to get her shoes off. I watched her pass out on the ground. I watched her struggle to get to bed. I watched her pass out again in her clothes on the bed. I watched her to make sure she was breathing. I watched her dream and have nightmares. I watched her all night long, knowing the person I love is in the empty shell on our bed. This is what you close your eyes to, what you can never possibly see.
I ask of you to please consider the people who are at home, suffering. Please read my words and ask yourself why you are in an industry that destroys lives? It affects all lives. In an instant of distraction after a night at your establishment, a life could be changed, lost, altered. Even if that person is not possessed like my love is. Then ask yourself why we are like this? What is it, as a whole, that we are running from? And is harboring the runners the only stance you can take? Are you a runner?
Yours, in complete disbelief my life has brought me here,
J
You dispense a killer liquid. If it doesn't take the body off this earth, which eventually it does, it takes the mind. It takes families and breaks them, shatters them, ruins them. And I am not so naive to think that it's you. I am fully aware of the responsibility of the drinker themselves. They ask for it. But in some ways then, doesn't the drunk girl at the frat party when she acts promiscuously and gets raped? Neither is informed coherent consent. Both are taking from the body and the soul and the mind. One is a blatant violation, the other is also a violation, but one we as a society believe can be chosen by the drinker.
We want all these freedoms to choose for ourselves what is good for us and what is not. I am not even sure what I am trying to say. I am angry. I am angry that you keep serving after a person has clearly had enough. I am angry that you ignore the part after they leave your bar. I am angry about how many people I see driving away after having asked for and been served way too many. All in the name of what? Freedom to choose? Sustaining a business? Greed? Ignorance? Why do you keep doing it?
My life is being destroyed. The woman I love can't stop. You have the power to tell her no. It may not be her choice. She may be mad at you. It may not even save us. But it could save her. A person you call your friend. Please. And don't worry, I have also spoken to her. I have asked her to stop, but she can't. It's this driving force. It's this demon. It's this fear that you won't all love her if you don't have that liquid toxin in common.
From the outside I can see that you won't remain friends when she stops ingesting your poison, but I don't tell her that. I don't tell her that in the end, it will be her eyes opening to the fact that she really has nothing in common with those who see no other way. Right now, I don't even tell her that if her eyes don't open soon, she will lose us. And we will lose her, more. We have already lost whole parts of her. So how about helping me? How about helping all of us? You could have a clear conscience and fall asleep right away, knowing that your "friends" made it home safe. You can know one family survived. One family is thriving. One family is pushing through recovery. Because we are a strong family, but right now we are on our knees, even the little ones, trying desperately to hold onto what we know we had, but can hardly remember.
I know you are not a cold person. I know that the demon is in the drink. I know that she chooses it, she chooses you. I know that she alone can make the decision to quit. She did last night, at the lowest I have ever seen her. Which, by the way, was very low. I have also made the decision to not enable her anymore. The only things I did last night for her were to drive her home, get her water and get her a pan to puke in. I watched her puke. I watched her pass out on the bathroom floor. I watched her struggle to get her shoes off. I watched her pass out on the ground. I watched her struggle to get to bed. I watched her pass out again in her clothes on the bed. I watched her to make sure she was breathing. I watched her dream and have nightmares. I watched her all night long, knowing the person I love is in the empty shell on our bed. This is what you close your eyes to, what you can never possibly see.
I ask of you to please consider the people who are at home, suffering. Please read my words and ask yourself why you are in an industry that destroys lives? It affects all lives. In an instant of distraction after a night at your establishment, a life could be changed, lost, altered. Even if that person is not possessed like my love is. Then ask yourself why we are like this? What is it, as a whole, that we are running from? And is harboring the runners the only stance you can take? Are you a runner?
Yours, in complete disbelief my life has brought me here,
J
Saturday, December 26, 2009
I Just Can't Seem to Shake This
I am trying not to still hate Christmas. I think for the first time in a long time, the kids had the full magic of Christmas morning. I didn't though. They let us sleep in until 7. Exactly. Then when they came to wake us up, TK got mad. I had to whisper in her ear that it was her idea to get up then and that it was Christmas. So she was grumpy from the moment we woke up. I was trying to keep a light tone, but she kept bringing it down. Was a super hard day for me. Normally, I would have been sad to let the kids go with him, but yesterday it was a relief. I will be happy when all this shit has passed. I made a wagon wheel coffee cake, a tradition for my family, another thing I haven't done in several years and I made breakfast. Was OK, but there is this heaviness that is hanging over the house. Something uncommunicated. Something so sad. I hate it and I hate Christmas. I guess I was really hoping she would be my Christmas star, some light on this shitty time of year, but she was darker than me. I just want to be normal. I don't want to think about what I am eating, how many resources I am consuming, my kids exposure to brain numbing media. I just want to be the same as everyone else, just for a bit. Then my family would like me. Then I would not be so alone in a world that thinks all I ever do is preach. I want to wake and and be back in classes and worry about that stuff so I don't have to deal with this stuff. I hate Christmas. PS Jesus wasn't even born this day, so all those stupid cards are just an ad ploy.
Sunday, December 13, 2009
The Number One Reason I Hate Christams
TK left the house today in a self-loathing rage. She barely said goodbye and she blew at least one stop sign, which means also that she is gonna speed the whole way to work. Why? you ask. Well, I will tell you. Money. And not the money to pay the bills because that's done, but money to buy gifts. Obligation. She doesn't want to be perceived as the poor sister. It's Christmas, that's just what you do. Who fucking says? Why is it that Americans are forced to grow up with this STUPID notion that Christmas is all about who gives the best gifts? Fuck everyone who teaches their kids that a store bought, designed obsolete, polluting, plastic pieces of shit are better than anything handmade. All these people who are getting second jobs to buy their kids the next big landfill item, remember these toys are designed to fall apart after so long or become last years technology. Also remember that the "happiness" that toy brings is fleeting and the "joy" of giving is forgotten once the credit card bills come in. Consider what it even takes to make all those toys and electronics. And so it begins, there is not enough money in the world to make someone happy, but there is enough LOVE. Practical and beautiful hand-made gifts can be the wave of the future and the way we save our souls and planet. We all have talents that we haven't tapped into. Reflect on this before you buy anything unnecessary. I can't tell you all enough how sad my heart is right now.
Saturday, December 12, 2009
Let's Talk About Sluts
It's a soapbox kind of day. Sorry.
Yesterday I was listening to the radio and the DJ's were talking about Tiger Wood's recent indiscretions. The woman DJ called his lovers sluts.
Two things:
Number 1: Tiger's private life is just that. He can do what he wishes, when he wishes. It is not up to the people to judge him, to say that he must be held to a higher standard because he is in the public spotlight. Dear people, you put him there. These are your morals that you are imposing on him, obviously not his. If he is not being an appropriate roll model to the children, too bad for you. He is a golfer. Why don't you try turning off your television and becoming an appropriate roll model for YOUR own children? I know, it's hard and you are not even in the public's eye, but I think you can do it.
Number 2: Why is it that the women who slept with Tiger are the sluts? They had CONSENSUAL sex. What makes only a woman a slut? Why can men have all the sex, without a label, that they want and even be exalted for it?
Argument 1: the Bible. Only Jesus was immaculately conceived, people. That makes Mary the only non-sex haver in the bible, until she birthed Joseph's non-Messiah kids. And lets get this straight, your Bible is full of incest, legal rape, legal murder and bastards. Abraham and Sarah were half siblings, sharing a father. Furthermore, up until recently, only the very rich could marry. That would have excluded most of us and all of the humbled Bible figureheads, including Mary and Joseph.
Argument 2: the very definition of slut. A slovenly and promiscuous woman. So she is dirty and likes to have sex. Hmmmm.... I am pretty sure that the women Tiger had sex with were not slovenly. (Having had sex with a pro-golfer for many months, I am somewhat of an expert on what they look for.) I am also sure that having sex does not make someone bad. Even having oodles of it. We've already surmised that not everyone is married, now lets look at why you are having sex, married or not and regardless of gender and sexual identity. It feels fucking good! That's why. Obviously, I am not having sex to make babies and neither are most of you. So there is no other reason when we boil it down. (Sorry if you are one of the people who aren't finding pleasure in consensual sex.)
There is no reason to label anyone who has sex. Not even with a famous person. There are many men, even famous one who have sex with people other than their wives, Republican senators with men, Presidents with interns, rock stars with fans, sports legends who spread AIDS, etc. and who takes the bad rap? The one with the vagina is always to blame. (Except in the case of the gay seducer.) The words of the local poet Selah may sum this up, "see, you may find a woman tempting, but that does not make her a temptress". Let's all change the way we think.
Yesterday I was listening to the radio and the DJ's were talking about Tiger Wood's recent indiscretions. The woman DJ called his lovers sluts.
Two things:
Number 1: Tiger's private life is just that. He can do what he wishes, when he wishes. It is not up to the people to judge him, to say that he must be held to a higher standard because he is in the public spotlight. Dear people, you put him there. These are your morals that you are imposing on him, obviously not his. If he is not being an appropriate roll model to the children, too bad for you. He is a golfer. Why don't you try turning off your television and becoming an appropriate roll model for YOUR own children? I know, it's hard and you are not even in the public's eye, but I think you can do it.
Number 2: Why is it that the women who slept with Tiger are the sluts? They had CONSENSUAL sex. What makes only a woman a slut? Why can men have all the sex, without a label, that they want and even be exalted for it?
Argument 1: the Bible. Only Jesus was immaculately conceived, people. That makes Mary the only non-sex haver in the bible, until she birthed Joseph's non-Messiah kids. And lets get this straight, your Bible is full of incest, legal rape, legal murder and bastards. Abraham and Sarah were half siblings, sharing a father. Furthermore, up until recently, only the very rich could marry. That would have excluded most of us and all of the humbled Bible figureheads, including Mary and Joseph.
Argument 2: the very definition of slut. A slovenly and promiscuous woman. So she is dirty and likes to have sex. Hmmmm.... I am pretty sure that the women Tiger had sex with were not slovenly. (Having had sex with a pro-golfer for many months, I am somewhat of an expert on what they look for.) I am also sure that having sex does not make someone bad. Even having oodles of it. We've already surmised that not everyone is married, now lets look at why you are having sex, married or not and regardless of gender and sexual identity. It feels fucking good! That's why. Obviously, I am not having sex to make babies and neither are most of you. So there is no other reason when we boil it down. (Sorry if you are one of the people who aren't finding pleasure in consensual sex.)
There is no reason to label anyone who has sex. Not even with a famous person. There are many men, even famous one who have sex with people other than their wives, Republican senators with men, Presidents with interns, rock stars with fans, sports legends who spread AIDS, etc. and who takes the bad rap? The one with the vagina is always to blame. (Except in the case of the gay seducer.) The words of the local poet Selah may sum this up, "see, you may find a woman tempting, but that does not make her a temptress". Let's all change the way we think.
Who has the control?
Last weekend I went to the Tempe Arts Festival. I have been trying to only take the bus and rail or ride my bike at least one day a week, a commitment I upheld this day. After a hour and a half, I arrived in Tempe. Where the train let off was where the fair started. I went to cross the street, against the light with no traffic coming when I heard a man yelling.
"HEY HEY HEY!!!!"
I turned to see who was yelling and at what. To my surprise, it was a cop yelling at ME.
"You can't cross now", he said.
"Why not?" I asked. I told him I wasn't asking to be insubordinate, but because I was sure I was breaking no law.
"Do you see the little red hand?"
"Sir, what I see is you being condescending to me. Now what is the law I would be breaking to cross this street. I am at an intersection. There are no cars coming. So, so far, I am not jay walking nor am I obstructing or impeding traffic."
"I will write you a ticket."
"On what grounds, sir?'
"It's a..." He looks to his partner fro a little assistance.
"Isn't is a 28...6...46?", the partner says.
"Yeah, that's what it is."
So I did what any decent citizen should do. I googled a 28-6-4-6 from my phone. I check Maricopa county and Tempe police statutes to no avail.
"Thank you." I turned to a woman and her husband. She said that there was no reason for us to be held here and she again thanked me. I thought about just razing the crowd and having everyone cross, but surely I would be arrested or ticket for something riot like then.
"Sir, according to your website, this is your website, right?" I held the phone to him. "According to your website, there is no 28-6-4-6. Do you have anything else that might hold me here?"
"I will ticket you for going against a traffic light."
"Sir, I am not traffic. I looked both ways and behind to make sure I wasn't going to get in the way of a right turn. If I was in my car, I would most certainly not try to cross against the light."
Then the other one said something about making sure we don't get hit by a train. The train was behind me. I inquired if the train would be derailing and sliding into the intersection I was about to cross anytime soon. At that point, the light turned to green.
"Do you see the little green man now?" That was the sarcastic first cop.
I looked at him and I said, "Well, I see a little man." Then I crossed.
Before anyone gets defensive about their cop husband or wife or self, please note, I was respectful until his last sarcastic comment. I didn't and still do not believe I was breaking any laws by crossing an empty street. I also think that this man wasn't stopping me for my own safety, but instead for an unconscious need to control. I think this is a perfect example of the state's control over the citizen. Our government is getting away with being voice for the people instead of the people being a voice for our government.
The people have grown complacent and lazy. This may be an innate human condition for most, but not me. I am tired of keeping my voice quiet while a small minority of people make the rules for a large majority and I am so tired of the majority's apathy. This country has reverted to the monarchy we were before we fought the British for our independence. The congress and the Senate are the new Parliament.
What are your issues? What would you like to see done in this country? I, for one, would like to see true equality. I would like to see the people running the government, not the other way around. I would like to see this war for oil ended and the war on pollution started in a big way. I would like to see mpg laws for cars and trucks raised so much that all new cars MUST use hybrid technology. I would like to see an honest government who doesn't take money in exchange for votes, in other words, I would like to see lobbying outlawed. I would like to see an intelligent community thinking about future implications of their right-now-wants. I would like to see a day when I couldn't be arrested and suspected of terrorism for writing this blog. Thank you, Patriot Act. I would like to see that the government cannot limit the use of the Internet. Here are two articles I found:
http://newsmax.com/Newsfront/obama-internet-fcc/2009/09/20/id/335106
http://www.wired.com/epicenter/2009/09/net-neutrality-announcement/
I don't think all laws are bad. I want to have honesty and integrity upheld. I want the people, my friends, to remember that we are the voice! Start speaking!
"HEY HEY HEY!!!!"
I turned to see who was yelling and at what. To my surprise, it was a cop yelling at ME.
"You can't cross now", he said.
"Why not?" I asked. I told him I wasn't asking to be insubordinate, but because I was sure I was breaking no law.
"Do you see the little red hand?"
"Sir, what I see is you being condescending to me. Now what is the law I would be breaking to cross this street. I am at an intersection. There are no cars coming. So, so far, I am not jay walking nor am I obstructing or impeding traffic."
"I will write you a ticket."
"On what grounds, sir?'
"It's a..." He looks to his partner fro a little assistance.
"Isn't is a 28...6...46?", the partner says.
"Yeah, that's what it is."
So I did what any decent citizen should do. I googled a 28-6-4-6 from my phone. I check Maricopa county and Tempe police statutes to no avail.
"Thank you." I turned to a woman and her husband. She said that there was no reason for us to be held here and she again thanked me. I thought about just razing the crowd and having everyone cross, but surely I would be arrested or ticket for something riot like then.
"Sir, according to your website, this is your website, right?" I held the phone to him. "According to your website, there is no 28-6-4-6. Do you have anything else that might hold me here?"
"I will ticket you for going against a traffic light."
"Sir, I am not traffic. I looked both ways and behind to make sure I wasn't going to get in the way of a right turn. If I was in my car, I would most certainly not try to cross against the light."
Then the other one said something about making sure we don't get hit by a train. The train was behind me. I inquired if the train would be derailing and sliding into the intersection I was about to cross anytime soon. At that point, the light turned to green.
"Do you see the little green man now?" That was the sarcastic first cop.
I looked at him and I said, "Well, I see a little man." Then I crossed.
Before anyone gets defensive about their cop husband or wife or self, please note, I was respectful until his last sarcastic comment. I didn't and still do not believe I was breaking any laws by crossing an empty street. I also think that this man wasn't stopping me for my own safety, but instead for an unconscious need to control. I think this is a perfect example of the state's control over the citizen. Our government is getting away with being voice for the people instead of the people being a voice for our government.
The people have grown complacent and lazy. This may be an innate human condition for most, but not me. I am tired of keeping my voice quiet while a small minority of people make the rules for a large majority and I am so tired of the majority's apathy. This country has reverted to the monarchy we were before we fought the British for our independence. The congress and the Senate are the new Parliament.
What are your issues? What would you like to see done in this country? I, for one, would like to see true equality. I would like to see the people running the government, not the other way around. I would like to see this war for oil ended and the war on pollution started in a big way. I would like to see mpg laws for cars and trucks raised so much that all new cars MUST use hybrid technology. I would like to see an honest government who doesn't take money in exchange for votes, in other words, I would like to see lobbying outlawed. I would like to see an intelligent community thinking about future implications of their right-now-wants. I would like to see a day when I couldn't be arrested and suspected of terrorism for writing this blog. Thank you, Patriot Act. I would like to see that the government cannot limit the use of the Internet. Here are two articles I found:
http://newsmax.com/Newsfront/obama-internet-fcc/2009/09/20/id/335106
http://www.wired.com/epicenter/2009/09/net-neutrality-announcement/
I don't think all laws are bad. I want to have honesty and integrity upheld. I want the people, my friends, to remember that we are the voice! Start speaking!
Wednesday, December 02, 2009
Day 12 of Thirty Days of Gratitude
his plump little hand in mine,
but it won't be forever
as the baby fat leaves
his tiny fingers,
his need to hold
me close will also leave
I've seen it already
with the two slender fingered olders
for now though, I will
hold tight to the grime of his day
Sunday, October 18, 2009
Irrational, I Know
I haven't had my period in 7 years! Yes 7! I had number 3 and then I got an IUD and left it in for an extra year. It's been out for about a month and the thing is coming; I can feel it! I have cramps and bloating and soreness everywhere! I don't really remember what it's like and I don't remember how to deal with such a monster! I decided to bleed again because it's natural and because I want another kid. (I know, I'm ridic!) And, since I am going balls out with this post, the sex is way better without it!
So I decided to buy a Diva Cup. She's my new best friend and I don't even know if she works yet. Wish me luck!
So I decided to buy a Diva Cup. She's my new best friend and I don't even know if she works yet. Wish me luck!
Saturday, October 17, 2009
How Long Will Stuff Mean More Than Love?
A woman down the street killed herself. She blew her head off with a shotgun. Brain matter flew across the street well into the empty lot. She was new to the block, in fact when she did it, she had been here for two weeks. She moved in with her sister and niece after her husband died. Not only did he die, but she lost her home because she couldn't afford it anymore. Why did she do it?
Several people at TK's work are getting engaged and committed. They are all wearing these huge rocks on their fingers. All paid for on credit. Are such huge diamonds really necessary? The real rarity of a diamond is controlled by the blood-filthy diamond industry, why pay so much and really own nothing?
TK woke up this morning early. I envisioned a morning of coffee and cards and hopefully love making. She called the bank to inquire about a car loan. We are down to one gas guzzling truck. The solution, trade it in and get a smaller vehicle. Sounds good, right? It's the American way. By doing this we would be spending much less money on gas and helping the world by not consuming. We would also be adding to our monthly debt and apparently ruining my sweet morning.
My solution is to ride my bike more often, to and from school. Or take public transportation. Her solution is to hide in herself and feel inadequate. I cannot abide by this. I cannot see how a car could ruin a persons whole day and put a person in such a tailspin of self hate. But all people have experienced this. The need for something overshadows the love others have for us. Or in the case of the flashy diamonds, takes the place of.
The two people with the huge rings have major problems. One of the people has only known and was only seeking material love (of her own admission), one of the people wants real love, but feels contractually bound to the giver. What has the grandness of gaudy fashion really afforded them? What can it afford any of us? Why do we insist upon living so far out of our means and searching for happiness among mounds of things when as far as we need to look is under our own roof? In the bed next to us. In the next room taking tiny breaths. Across the phone line wishing we were home. Who needs all of this shit? Not me. And not her. Because it makes no difference what I die with if I lived with unhappiness.
Several people at TK's work are getting engaged and committed. They are all wearing these huge rocks on their fingers. All paid for on credit. Are such huge diamonds really necessary? The real rarity of a diamond is controlled by the blood-filthy diamond industry, why pay so much and really own nothing?
TK woke up this morning early. I envisioned a morning of coffee and cards and hopefully love making. She called the bank to inquire about a car loan. We are down to one gas guzzling truck. The solution, trade it in and get a smaller vehicle. Sounds good, right? It's the American way. By doing this we would be spending much less money on gas and helping the world by not consuming. We would also be adding to our monthly debt and apparently ruining my sweet morning.
My solution is to ride my bike more often, to and from school. Or take public transportation. Her solution is to hide in herself and feel inadequate. I cannot abide by this. I cannot see how a car could ruin a persons whole day and put a person in such a tailspin of self hate. But all people have experienced this. The need for something overshadows the love others have for us. Or in the case of the flashy diamonds, takes the place of.
The two people with the huge rings have major problems. One of the people has only known and was only seeking material love (of her own admission), one of the people wants real love, but feels contractually bound to the giver. What has the grandness of gaudy fashion really afforded them? What can it afford any of us? Why do we insist upon living so far out of our means and searching for happiness among mounds of things when as far as we need to look is under our own roof? In the bed next to us. In the next room taking tiny breaths. Across the phone line wishing we were home. Who needs all of this shit? Not me. And not her. Because it makes no difference what I die with if I lived with unhappiness.
Wednesday, October 07, 2009
Sticking Up For Me, For Us and For the Future
On Monday, I left my Gender Studies class in tears. When I first walked in, one of my table mates made a "That's so gay" comment. I promptly called him out on that. Later in the class we were looking at paintings from the Renaissance and more modern times when someone said, "Homo" and another said, "I see a whole lotta fruit in that painting." I tried not to be defensive, I tried to not let it bother me, but it did. We then had to show pictures that we chose to epitamize masculinity or femininity. I chose a photo of Leslie Feinberg, a transgender author, activist and speaker. My group chose me to speak up about my photo, but I couldn't. I could not get past the earlier ignorance, I did not have it in me to try and teach people who I deemed unteachable.
Since Monday, I have been plotting what I would say to the class. All of my scenarios included using other derogitory names and inserting them where gay goes in "that's so gay". I finally had my chance to speak up in class today. Even though we were running late getting out of class, my classmates lent me their ears and I eliquaintly stated my case as to why "That's so gay" makes one look ignorant and can hurt the people around said one.
If even one of those kids leaves class with a sense of why we should be careful and think about our words, then I have changed the world. Even if someone leaves the class and makes fun of the sensitive lesbian in the gender class, s/he will have relayed this lesson to someone else's ear. "That's so gay" is such a trivial thing to fight against, but even the biggest buildings use sand to support the cement foundation. I am just one grain of salt, but I feel mightier than a boulder today!
Since Monday, I have been plotting what I would say to the class. All of my scenarios included using other derogitory names and inserting them where gay goes in "that's so gay". I finally had my chance to speak up in class today. Even though we were running late getting out of class, my classmates lent me their ears and I eliquaintly stated my case as to why "That's so gay" makes one look ignorant and can hurt the people around said one.
If even one of those kids leaves class with a sense of why we should be careful and think about our words, then I have changed the world. Even if someone leaves the class and makes fun of the sensitive lesbian in the gender class, s/he will have relayed this lesson to someone else's ear. "That's so gay" is such a trivial thing to fight against, but even the biggest buildings use sand to support the cement foundation. I am just one grain of salt, but I feel mightier than a boulder today!
Sunday, September 27, 2009
They Seeds Are Sown
My number one and I got up early this morning and buried the seeds in our new garden. It's the first time that I have not been the sole gardener. It feels so great to have her by my side while we turn the dirt and plant our food. I want to cry when I think of how amazing she is and how much I need her in my life. I have never needed somebody like I need her. I have always had the attitude that I could do it all on my own and that I never needed anybody's help. Now that she is here, I want to share her load and mine. Here are some new pics.
Just watered.
The schematic of what's planted.
Just watered.
The schematic of what's planted.
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