Reset # 284

After a week that was comparable to the entire year of 2009, I think things have finally managed to settle down once again. Of course, not before we Dawson's had to clean house again, both literally and figuratively. And not before I had to go through some more self-examination after a series of wild accusations. Again.

There is something about me that attracts crazy. Of that much I have become certain. I am a firm believer that if you continue to experience the same type of drama it must be you who is creating that drama in some way. I'm willing to accept my role in these things, if only I could completely discern what it is I'm doing. Others have thrown out suggestions: "Perhaps it is your bluntness." Or, "Perhaps your need to communicate and clarify make others uncomfortable." Either way, the message is the same - I need to shut up. And truly people, I'm working on it. In fact, I've accomplished a lot of shutting up this year (seriously, you have no idea). But if you want me to continue shutting up, you need to do two simple things: Don't bring your shit to me AND don't ask. Plain and simple.

Whew, okay... that said... I have had to do another 2010 'Reset' this year. It took a little longer to accomplish than expected. For a week the house was trashed and I wanted nothing more than sleep. It all climaxed with an anxiety attack that was, quite simply, beyond insane (note to self: stay away from Excedrine Migraine at 3am - it contains CAFFEINE!) But thankfully that attack served to push me into the much needed 'Reset'. Now, three days later, the house is clean (or getting that way, at least), the crazy is gone (for now, at least) and my spirits are high. I'm back to "okay" - and these days that's all a stay-at-home-mom-dealing-with-the-outside-crazies can ask for.

hi-ho-hi-fricken-ho

I applied for 15 jobs tonight. I hate applying for jobs. I hate being broke more. In a fit of anger and frustration (I always get angry and frustrated when applying for jobs), I applied for a job at Walgreens, thinking I could work the night shift and enter the yearly Martyrdom competition. I must say, applying for a job at Walgreens is more complex and complicated than applying for a job at St. Davids as a unit coordinator. Odd. One of the many stupid and ridiculous questions Walgreens asks was this: "It is sometimes okay to give free items to return customers - True or False?" Why wouldn't it be okay to give "free items" to anyone? They are free, right? But of course we all know that isn't what they were getting at. Stupid.

So here's hoping I land that perfect job. Here's hoping it pays $50k a year. Here's hoping they offer 6 weeks vacation and stock options. Here's hoping I don't keel over and die after a full days work and 30 loads of laundry. Here's hoping.

playing mind tricks with death

I hate funerals. I really do. I know, I know - everyone hates funerals (well, not everyone as I've never known my mom to say "no" to one). But we can generally agree that most people aren't fans. But after giving the matter much thought, I've decided this: I would rather live in a state of denial regarding death. I don't want to say "goodbye". In all other aspects of life I say "no" to denial. But as it turns out, I prefer death come with a huge chunk of denial and a dash of mind games.

I've never lost someone that I've been extremely close to at the moment of their death. I've lost grandparents that played a huge part in raising me, I've lost great uncles that were beyond wonderful - but at the time of their death I could not say that we were extremely close. For one reason or another there had been space between us. With my grandmother (who I stayed with more weekends than not as a kid), I had grown older and she had created more space the sicker she became. With my grandfather (ditto on the weekends), there was a family falling out that separated us years before his death (luckily we briefly reunited before he died). With my great uncles and great grandparents (and I have been blessed with some wonderful great uncles/grandparents), it was distance that kept us apart.

For many years I wondered if I was cold inside because I did not "sufficiently" mourn their deaths. I say "sufficiently" because next to my mother I always came off as stone cold. My mom will cry for a good solid hour at the loss of your 2nd cousin twice removed if you let her. Me - well, I was always a little more reserved with my mourning. But as I lay in bed this evening mourning my great uncle Gene's recent passing I realized it was something else. It isn't that I don't care, it's that it doesn't register with me that they are gone. Most especially if I skip out on the funeral (which I will almost always try to do). And even if I get wrangled into going (and my mother is a pro at this), I seem to have some weird coping mechanism that allows me to think they are still here.

For instance, I know my loved ones are gone. I know this without a doubt. But in my mind I still think of Uncle Carl gathering corn from the fields and Uncle Gene cracking peanuts on his front porch. As for my Grandma, she is still sitting at her kitchen table drinking a Coke and skimming through the Sears catalog. My Granddaddy is off running the roads in his 'Green Machine' (a 1970's puke green wagon) looking for a good beer joint or fishing spot. My Great Grandma and Papa John are busy in the kitchen chiding each other on something someone said at last Sunday's church service. And because we weren't entirely close (in a call each other on Sundays kind of way), I will be allowed to go on thinking that as I grow old. None of them are actually gone.

I don't know if this is healthy or not. Perhaps I listened a little too well at the very first funeral I ever attended. I remember someone saying "they are still alive in your heart and memories" and it made perfect sense to me. However, that comes as no consolation to someone like my mother as she is breaking down in sadness during these times. Because obviously this sort of mental defense tactic works on very few people besides myself.

And in all honesty, I can foresee a lot of heartache in the future due to this kind of mental trick. At some point, hopefully in the extremely distant future, I'm going to lose someone I'm truly close to. Someone that I can't trick myself into still being alive. And when that day comes I will be completely unprepared with how to handle it, as all my little mental and emotional tricks will no longer work. And when that day comes, some distant person will most surely say "they are still alive in your heart and memories" and I will want to punch them in the throat. Because I'll know that memories don't call you to see how you are feeling and hearts don't visit on the holidays and I'll be mourning a pain I've yet to experience in this lifetime.

2010 - Start writing again

Never before have I gone this long without journaling in some way. I'm honestly confused as to why it's happening - that I just don't have anything to say. Actually, that's not right. I have a lot to say. I think the difference is that, in a weird way, I've found my voice in person and have had nothing to get out independently. I've always been a communicator, but these days I over-communicate. I've been drawing boundaries, expressing feelings and clearing up misunderstandings. I've been voicing my insecurities, my frustrations, my hopes and my dreams. I've been doing so much damn talking, I haven't had a whole lot of time to reflect. And reflection (and bitching) has always been what most of my journaling has been about.

2010 started out right. It's been the best time I've had since my early 20's. I was selfish, I made some difficult choices, I took a lot of action. It's been a very external time for me. Thank goodness, as I was about to explode internally. But tonight as Chris and I had one of our future-at-a-glance discussions I realized things weren't going to stay this way. A lot is coming down the pipeline. Issues with our families, new work situations, me possibly going back to school. The selfish fun is going to minimize a bit as we reevaluate and renegotiate our life. And this certainly will bring me back to writing. I think a fragment of why this year has gone so well is because I spent some time out of my head. Because of this my anxiety abated, I stopped analyzing so much and I was able to gain some fresh perspectives regarding a lot of issues. And I stopped writing. And because writing is no longer routine (a first in over 10 years), when I do write it feels awkward and fragmented. It feels uncomfortable. Which is why I've stopped. But yet here I sit, writing away, once again figuring out things about myself as I type and I realize how much I've missed it. Hopefully I can get back to it soon enough.

2010: Choose for Me, Phase 2

Okay, I'm finally going to try to write something. I have no idea what this block has been about, but as life has been good I've decided to take it as a good thing.

I am going into Phase 2 of Choose for Me this year and I wanted to spend a little time focussing on those goals. This year has, thus far, been a great time to finally make things happen and clean things up. Phase 1 was awesome and included camping trips, river trips, wedding receptions, birthday parties, a weekend of SXSW and a long weekend spent in San Francisco. A BIG shout-out to my Mom who helped make those things happen. Without her we wouldn't have had the freedom to do most of it. But as Izzy said the other day, our "vacation is over". And really, what better timing as we are broke, Izzy is at a fantastically fun stage and quite honestly, I'm worn out from the fun and ready to re-establish some kind of routine (I use the term "re-establish" loosely, as I can't remember the last time we actually had a routine).

All that said, today is the day I deemed the beginning of 2010: Choose for Me, Phase 2 (the get shit done and save money version). Here are just a few things I hope to accomplish by the end of this year:

* Get a job. I've been saying this for 2 years now, but the time has finally come. I need to get out of the house, Izzy needs more structure, education and friends and we need more money!

* Go back to healthy eating. When we lack routine, we lack discipline. It's time to go back to planning meals and cooking every night. This has always been a challenge for us, but it's super important to both of us that Izzy grow up healthy and unfortunately it's our job to make it happen.

* Start some sort of exercise routine. I've considered yoga, pilates and and kickboxing. Hopefully in the next several years I'll have done all 3 - but realistically I need to pick something and go with it. Every picture of myself I see lately just makes me want to crawl into a hole. My extra weight is actually becoming physically uncomfortable and quite simply, I'm tired of it.

* Create! I'm broke, I want new fancy stuff and the only way I see to make that happen is to learn to start making it myself. I'd like to get back into making jewelry, as well as some yard art and some original stuff to decorate our house.

* SAVE! Above all else we need to start saving again. If Suze Orman says one needs to have 3-6 months salary in savings, we are 7 months behind. The credit cards also got used in our last couple of trips, so we need to work at having those paid off by this time next year. Luckily we never stopped contributing to Izzy's CSA, and I just checked it the other day and almost fell out at how much we had saved (not a drop in the college bucket - but not bad considering how terrible we are at saving.)

There are a TON of small details involved in Phase 2, but I think this is a pretty accurate summary. I'm feeling more confidence than usual that it can all be accomplished, only because this year has already been so different from other years in the past. I'm feeling hopeful and optimistic. Capable and oh-so-ready.

dry spell

I've got absolutely nothing. Again.

Too many X’s

Time stopped. The sound of the dryer stopped. The tv goes off. There was only the sound of the music. I stepped into the imaginary jail cell, closed the imaginary door, locked the imaginary lock and threw the imaginary key. Me now was on the outside, me then on the inside. The nostalgia was almost too much to handle. Painful even. And yet I wrapped the feeling around me like a heavy, soft fleece blanket. Unable to give it up. Drum beats could be heard in the distance. I let my mind go – not bothering to fight. More came flooding in. Me on the inside could vaguely hear me on the outside yelling to make it stop. But I opened to it, relishing it, not bothering to feel the guilt of it. More pain. More bliss. I wrapped the blanket around me tighter. I swallowed the lump in my throat – even the me on the inside had no tears about it anymore. I let the last of it come over me in a wash of ecstatic pain. And then it all rolled away as the music faded. Softly, slowly. I dropped the blanket to the floor and slowly opened the door to the cell. Reluctantly, the me on the inside walked out, joining the me on the outside. Looks were exchanged. The clock on the wall started to tick again. The sound of the dryer faded back in. I turned the tv back on. Back to now, and we've both come to terms with it.