There is a lot of red in my life. and candy. and toys. and christmas still lingers. (will, all year.) and red, in the language of chakras… tells us to get down and dirty with your roots. look at your stories, your family and what earths you, and unearths you. grab onto your precious self and dig deep.
Did i mention it was a FULL MOON? Time to see whats working, what you need to shift, and what you can let go. . .
so, i’ve met a guy. another one. not my type. want to know why? i think he’s just like me.
and so there is some work for me to do and i’m in a vulnerability hangover every time i think about it.
sheesh. have to go take meds. forgot again. hold on.
kay. but thats not the reason for the vulnerability hangover. listen, this is how it goes.
‘you can’t keep putting me first, thats not good for you’. me to he. ‘but thats how i am, i need to know you so i can be what you need me to be, for you’ he to me.
BUT THATS CRAZY!!! me to he.
we? agree to disagree.
the problem here is that he is saying things i’ve said, how i lived for a long time, and why in the end, marriage couldn’t be worked out for me. I’m not saying i was a slavish wife and only served my man.
i wasn’t. i began to have children, i’ve always had a personality, i’ve always had needs…but it begins with who gets up for the babies, doesn’t it…for me it did. who’s life is too important to be turned upside down?
i never was able to articulate what my needs were. and part of that was that everyone else went first. and now… i am being forced to practice, because i’m staring in a mirror all the time.
who gets fed first at your house?
i know thats a multifaceted question, and practicality and all, but really… its that dangling emergency oxygen….
and i swear, i’d die while offering it to others. just plumb up and die.
SO my hatred of The Magicians has passed. I mean, how can i actually ‘hate’ anything make-believe? its just silly speak and i’m moving on . . . see? the meds are with me.
cop-outs are everywhere.
and self-deprecation is the tool of the TRUE GODS AND GODDESSES… if only we weren’t so good at deflection, you’d be blinded.
(read that one slowly.)
and no, i haven’t lost my grip on humility. not even momentarily, sadly. (had to look up how to spell Eureka, for fucksake)
i do have moments when i can say good things about myself, i mean, i do. and i do thank my ex for that, because i have real moments of self-value that come simply from being taken for granted, and its really powerful to really deeply feel how much you matter to the world you’ve created. the kids do the same for me. … when i have to demand that they speak to me a certain way, or that they ask for things rather than demand…its respect, and i deserve it… little bits and bobs…
took me awhile.
but also, last night, i actually WENT to the gym i signed up for. and i’m proud as anything that i made it. because i was anxious about it for days. nervous about what people would think, how weak i would look, how sweaty and fat i would be… all irrational, to a large degree. its been awhile since i was fit, and i’m sad and a little embarassed by it. but i know i can get it back, i just have to put in the time, again, and make sure i do it for myself. utterly only? … which is nearly impossible for me. i definitely work better when i think there is some benefit that is broader than just myself. in this case? kids… want to stay strong and fit as a role model of strong fit woman for the kids…
but then it makes you think about the things you do overcome… and big and little and what pride you have in accomplishing things…
i’m running my household, i am truly the head of the household. always was, but didn’t know.
i’m figuring out how to value the simple way i move in the world. i’m not spending tons of time chastising myself for my hit and run socializing. i just get all frazzled after 15 minutes and have to run away. thats it… its not a huge statement about what an asshole loser i am.
i do wish i could spend more time, sometimes, but listening is just so damn hard, 15 minutes is about my limit. and i love people, even if they don’t know i do.
and thats another thing i value about myself. i love people, even if they don’t know i do. how cool is that?
anyhow. its a beginning. make your own lists, babes.
so, i read this book awhile back and it made me mad. it made me so mad. it moved slowly, i hated (detested) the characters, and nothing ever happened in it that made me feel better about it. and i read all the way to the end wanting something good to be there. but no.
then they made a tv show of it. and i said, HAIL NO. and then people kept reccomending it to me and then someone said it was way better than the book and then i had another night of being at loose ends and watching tv to numb myself.
so i tried it. Guess what?
HATED IT. DETEST THE CHARACTERS. HATE IT.
okay,so there are several things going on here, to start before we even get into what makes me so full of rage at this show.
Why am i so goddamn hopeful? it must have reached prescribable levels by now. what the hell is this pollyanna crap? why did i read the whole book? why did i try the show? why was i so unhappy for so many days but woke up hopeful each day at some point and stayed married?
There is magic in this show. and they never use it for delight. its always for some personal gain or to trick someone or to hurt someone else and if there is delight, it is incidental…there is no thrill and exhileration and no harry fucking potter and I WANT TO KNOW WHY THEY ARE WASTING IT!
There is a lot of privilege in the show. A lot. Its a class thing, i’m sure the show producers mixed up color and culture as best they could (still lame) but its money here. Kids who smoke and drink all day like they are not kids, but old drunks and country club ladies. . they think they rebel but end up just like the parents they despise. Too much Breakfast Club Claire. these characters hold no humor for me, only rage. The privilege of wasting your life. THE WASTE! OH MY GOD, THE WASTE!!sigh. the show? The Magicians.
if you like it, could you please tell me why? and stop me from trying to watch it again? because of the pervasive hope that i’m wrong thing?
So, these last few weeks have been full of small glitches in the routine, which, yes, I know are ACTUALLY the routine. but still. sick kids, sick me, sick them, sick middle of the day, procedures, appointments missed, car troubles, money troubles, and so on. . . fucking daylight savings time and missed buses! and you get my drift. . .
so, i’ve been off my routine. and one of the things i’ve done is been inconsistent with taking my anti-depressants. and thats had weird results.
somedays i have a really weepy afternoon, full of conversations (internal) with an ex, that will never ever happen, and shouldn’t and won’t. and the weep will make me realize i haven’t taken my meds, and will also make me realize i haven’t dealt with a certain something that is on repeat in my brain.
today i have forgotten to take it, and i have no excuse. its my Sunday of relax. I mean, well, i get from wakeup til one, when the kids return and we cook , or play video games or have family come by… today there’s another practice, which i hate, but whatever. i just texted the coach to see if she could do the driving for the kid. we’ll see.
i’m not depressed, i will tell you that. i’ve friends who are, have been, and what i have is not this. When the marriage was so hard, I had all the therapists tell me to get on meds, honestly, and I kept saying no because i knew my upset was situational and not chemical. ( i know i’ve talked about this before, but i think it bears repeating, again and again, in case someone needs it).
Once the separation started, the therapist at the time, said the only thing that ever made me change my ways. She said that being in a hard situation for so long will change your chemicals… and thats what i needed help in dealing with.
oh. so my crushingly depressing homelife, full of repetition and hope and deflation could be eased with a chemical? no. first i needed to be the only adult here, because i can really count on me.
and that matters a hell of a lot.
but . my point. meds and the medsing meds that i am not always taking.
what i wonder about is this: these things that are popping up on my weepy afternoons and my mind-ratatattat that i am hearing/feeling…. ARE they things that I must feel in order to have them dissipate? Have I somehow been dulling these details with the meds? –and the only way to actually heal from them is to FEEL all the feels, even these stupid, old wound ones?
i honestly probably need to seek a therapist, right? does some OTHER person have the answer to this? do I ?
ha. just occurred to me i might find an answer in both directions: if i get consistent again and also if i just stop.
blagh. but, as i need to count on me, and so do my kids, i should probably find out if there are repercussions to stopping before i do.
because hello. MOM.
so what if i just had raisin bran for lunch? i’m the adult.