How to let go?

The wasband gave me a reprieve over Passover from the constant barrage of "more stuff".  But this week, he again emptied bags and boxes of mostly garbage onto the sidewalk next to my car (he carries it around with him so he can do this whenever he finds me, no kidding).  I did point out, fairly calmly, the boxes of true junk equally owned by the two of us, and told him I would not be responsible for disposing of it.  But the bag of clothes - obviously old run-down stuff he finally picked up from the laundry room floor, as he cleaned for/from Passover - I accepted, along with some assorted odd-and-ends from the garden - which was definitely MY project, as explained previously . Actually, I didn't so much "accept it", as slump down like I had lost all muscle control and start to cry.  Then I threw the stuff in the car, and drove off without doing any of the chores I had planned.  I went home and ate and ate and ate (luckily it was mostly the produce I have left from the holiday), and watched hours of videos.

I went back to the 1st season of Frasier, and the end of the very first episode clearly reflected my situation.  The finish of the pilot episode features a call from a woman (voice of Linda Hamilton) who broke up with her boyfriend eight months ago (*eight months ago!) but cannot stop grieving.  Frasier shares the "Lupe Valez" anecdote, telling the woman that she is in mourning for "what she thought her life would be," and advising her that she needs to "let it go."
 

Okay, this is obviously good advice, as far as it goes, but HOW DOES ONE LET GO?  HOW DO *I* LET GO?  It doesn't just happen because you say it will, anymore then the average person can just lose weight but saying "okay, now I will lose weight."  The clearest answer to both is "get yourself good professional help."  But at the moment I haven't the time or resources...

I'm gonna stop here.  I not really that bad, most of the time.  But it is still too hard sometimes, and I am really bad at giving up ideals - a topic for another day.  Right now I have to pick up the videos the libraryis holding for me.

Finding My Voice

In college, there was a guy (one of the most conceited people I ever met, incredibly knowledgeable, and eventually a good friend) who had a bad way of interrupting me often. One day I got fed up and said "That's it, I'm not speaking anymore today." And everyone around us laughed. "You not speak? You can't keep that up for even one hour." And I was shocked - this was how they saw me. And I was even more shocked when I realized how true it was that I had so utterly changed from just the few month before when I was in high school.

I was shy and quiet as far back as I remember, quiet and shy throughout elementary school, and terribly depressed and frustrated in high school, felt terribly alone, and really was pretty much alone. I really did consciously spend entire days not speaking, waiting to see if anyone would react. Everyone liked me, I think, but I was just easy to overlook, which became a vicious cycle, becoming more unhappy and withdrawn, and therefore more invisible.

College started great, I can't say why; I guess I just started out more visible, therefore became more extroverted, and therefore more visible (and audible). But it proved to be very unstable and dependent on outside factors. A friend came to stay with me at "home" over winter vacation. After a couple days, she asked,"are you feeling unwell?" "No, I'm fine, why?" "You're so quiet, it's bizarre." "...I guess that is just what happens to me as I get closer to the Atlantic Coast."

Well, I don't know if there is really some geologic epicenter of my silence, but I am now physically somewhere between the state of my birth and the state of my undergrad education. My metaphysical position of verbosity is now somewhere in between as well, roughly correlating with the above.

So, when people ask me common polite questions, such as, "How are you?", "How was your weekend?", the answers tend more towards, "Fine...and you?". This is especially true if I am actually doing poorly. I may tend toward whiny, but in general, I am not a complainer.

But the Badass came out again when I was back in the old neighborhood over the holiday.  And this time, it was not just in a dream.  I was having such an utterly horrible time, I wanted to shout it out to the entire community.  So when people politely asked "How is your holiday going?",  I answered, "Really, really awful." while looking them full in the eye.  I think several people were sure they misheard me, as they just smiled, and kept walking.  The rest gave me some short condolences, then tried to give me a little lesson on how to keep a proper perspective. Only one person (ironically, the husband of a couple I just recently met) had anything helpful to say - basically, "You're sad, I'm sorry, it's hard. We would really like to spend time with you if you would like."

Was it better to speak up?  I'm not sure...Let me think about that, and I'll try to get back to you.

something's coming

don't know when
but it's soon
catch the moon
one handed catch...

so don't give up on me.
in the mean time, the dirty laundry keeps expanded, will probably have do some with the boys in tow.

Still around, just exhasted...

...so I haven't had a chance to write - it's a shame, I had lots of ideas.

Probably won't have a proper post for a couple weeks. But I am feeling tremendously satisfied: ready for Passover, and did it all by myself, with only one major breakdown, when I let the kids play with my phone while running errands, then got home and realized the phone was left somewhere along the day's travels.

copy of FB post:
Lost my phone somewhere along the many stops last evening. Freaked, kept babbling and asking G-d for a miracle. So torqued, stayed up, finished the kitchen cleaning - b'li eyin harah, ready to kasher tonight (well, early Thurs morning)- never ready this early before! Great quote from friend -"We talk about the 'finger' of G-d, 'hand' of G-d; you got the 'boot' of G-d. There is my miracle?;)

got my phone back fairly easily. While kashering stove, only distuction was melting the knobs, and I'm pretty sure I can replace those at Home Depot.
I liked kashering the sink, counters; that was always the wasband's job.

Bright Copper Kettles

Quick Post (is better than no post):

I have been having multiple "Flowers for Algernon" moments, although not in terms of intellectual clarity, but emotional.  I have sudden euphoric moment, just doing normal things.  At least, they seem euphoric to me, but as I am not on any meds, am not having any other "manic" symptoms that I am aware of, and they really are just fleeting feelings associated with normal, nice activities, I am led to believe that this might just be ordinary "happiness".

The rub is, the feeling is so strong and foreign, it's really frightening.  For the past however many year, most "happiness" was dull any distanced, and strong "happiness" was always mixed with longing and more distance.  And any really strong feelings were NOT a good experience.  So I am frightened and it is hard not to pull back to memories of bad feelings. => I am going from dark into the light, but it is as blinding and frightening as going from the light into the dark.

Cows in the morning, and crocus in grasses,
Going to the car wash to clean the window glasses,
Bright purple houses, and hearing my boys sing
These are few of my euphoric things.

Well Hello There

I'm at work on Sunday again because, well I don't know why.  But I would hate for that last post to be the first impression anyone has of the blog.  Not that I really dislike the post, but it is kinda whiny, and the artsy tone is very much an anomaly.

I went out with movie buddy last Saturday night.  I was actually hoping to find a play or concert to go to, but somehow the pickin's in this burg were very slim this month.  What a disappointment.  So we ended up in the local multi-plex, scanning the listings...studying the listings...praying that we had overlooked something in the listings, because there was NOTHING we wanted to see (especially since I am NEVER wasting my time with another 3D veiwing).  So we went to the least objectionable offering: Woman in Black.

Now, I need to say that I do not watch horror movies, because I am a little frightened rabbit.  I learned this through the few low-level B horror movies I saw as a kid, and the time there was some "Tale of Two Cities" on TV.  The "Nightmare on Elm Street" movies came out right when I was in junior high, and everyone wanted to tell me about them, because my name is very similar to one of the characters. But it's not just homicidal-lunitic flicks that I avoid - as I said, "Tale of Two Cities"was too upsetting.  I don't watch movies about comets hurtling towards earth, orcs abducting children through bedroom closets, or aliens who travel the galaxy to ravage lush, weak planets.  In fact when "Independence Day" was in theaters, a friend invited me to go to the movie with her, and I really, terribly need a night out.  I told her I would go, but I was going to look away and cover my ears anytime an alien sighting seemed likely, and she would have to poke me to let me know when it was safe to watch again.  She thought I was joking.  She mis-poked once, I got a full-frontal view of the squid-like beings.  I had trouble sleeping the next few nights, had to keep thinking "imagine they are Star Wars aliens, imagine they are Star Wars aliens..." 

But I was out with movie buddy, and we had to see SOMETHING.  "Well, I will turn my head away. And movie buddy is big and strong, maybe that presence will make me feel more secure.  I don't know.  God, please help me here; I want to spend an evening out without paying for it in sleepless nights".  Okay - no more suspense, I had a good time, and with almost no bad after-effects.  This was the silliest movie I have been to in a long time.  The people behind us were completely obnoxious, talking through the whole thing, just as we were, which did a lot to lighten the mood as well.  The movie might as well have been called "Harry Potter VIII."  I do NOT recommend this movie, it was dumb as dumb, but I was so pleased.

I'm now realizing that the last time I gave a great review, it was for Super-8, another stupid (but, unlike "Woman in Black," immensely enjoyable) horror-movie.  And I really liked the latest Terminator movie, and I saw that alone.  What can I say?   My favorite movies are "It's a Wonderful Life."  and "This is Spinal Tap."  I would pick a movie with interesting, funny dialog over almost anything else, except maybe great fun musicals.  But thrilling is sometimes fun too.

A Box in Neon Pink Paper Outside My Door

I'm here at work because.
Because I have to change the medium on my transfected cells.
Because I wanted to play on the computer.  Because I eat if I sit at home alone.  Because I can.  Because I have nothing better to do.

My mother sent me gifts.
She loves giving gifts.
She loves giving gifts to me.
I hate these gifts.  Big problems that I need to keep or toss or find another home.  And I need to say how wonderful they are, how much I love them, how much I love getting them.

I don't like poetry.
I don't think this is poetry.
I don't know what to write.  But I need to connect.  But I need to feel that someone knows who I am.  Even if I feed her all the lines.

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It seems to me modern artists insist it isn't art if it doesn't shock and provoke.  When did it become lowly for art simply to be beautiful?  To reflect the beauty of the world, to provide beauty to ingest.