not an epiphany

Every time I decide to be introspective, I find a new thing to be thankful for and amazed at. Two nights ago, I realized I do not dread going home. I don't fear it. I don't find excuses not to go home. I don't go to anyone else's house - in fact, while I love being at Ray's, I'd rather be home, where my friends and my dog are. I'd rather see Shawna and Davey and Danny and Guy and Mike and Cutty and my Shadow than be outside or in the park or doing extra hours at work or anything else. I am comfortable. My home is comfortable. It is safe. It is welcoming, and while cold in the winter, it's mine. I have my oasis of peace and my geekfest, books and computer, food and friends. I cannot emphasize how comfortable I feel. I wonder if this is one of the factors in why menopause isn't truly kicking my ass as it has to so many other women I have known. Or why I feel healthier despite my food sensitivities and IBS and TILT. I have a solid boyfriend; he's difficult but loyal, sweet and pissy, hardworking and a tad selfish. No matter where he is, he's mine; no matter where I am, I'm his. I feel like I have nothing to fear, for the first time in my life. This could also be the age I'm at - late 40s, content, hormones not fucking with my head, my mental illness no longer manifesting because my stress levels all live in NY.... Yea, I'm happy. And extremely grateful.

Written 5/4/2004

I am this woman: bright, cheerful, wise, loving, hurt, torn, shattered, bent, mother, daughter, grandmother, aunt, brave, bereft, bold, brassy, sexy, sensual, moody, chic, strong, fragile, brilliant, tired, capable, hopleless, worn, old. I am this woman, who suffers and grins, loves and loses. Tired of the pain, but life goes on. My mantra. What did I do to deserve betrayal? Be me - generous, loving, full of life and complexity. Intense, yes; perhaps obsessed. Not cowardly, not afraid; but left now with fear and broken hope. My heart is intimate with pain; my soul with hurt. Beauty abounds and I will not shy away from enjoying it. But fear now sits where trust once stood. Look what you did, manchild, cruel creature. Intrinsic in every facet of my life is my heart. I love with all I have. There is no other way for me. And I will not change; the pain remains, but I will not change. The glory of me IS me. I am this woman; be warned. I am Me. Today: 2013 I am more, because I did not allow myself to stay broken, beaten, defeated. There is no such thing. I am me. Diamonds and steel, flesh and blood, heart and soul, greater than my parts. I am me. Be warned, world; whatever you throw my way, I AM ME. And you shall not win.

Not an earthshattering revelation...

Today as I walked home from work - high speed, as I had to get to another job and I wanted to eat yogurt before that, so I had to be home first - I realized that I wasn't looking for escapes anymore. To frame that: as a kid, every new face, new person, new place, new location, new anything was a new opportunity to escape. Reading was an escape. School was an escape. My friends were an escape (whenever I could talk to them - I really wasn't allowed to have friends other than Jehovah). Sleep was an escape. When I went to assemblies, or new Kingdom Halls, it was a chance to maybe, perhaps, find someone who would help me escape (as the romantic ages kicked in, it was the idea that a boy could take me away from my parents...). I always sought escape from my life. It was the ulterior motive in every teen crush, love, etc. It was the ulterior motive for sleeping with the man I married and had kids for; it was the reason for the love affairs I had. It was the reason for so many temp jobs - all of it was an attempt to escape my life. As sad as it sounds, having kids was an attempt to escape - instead it locked me tighter to my parents and that damned religion. Falling in love was an escape. Then something happened and escape became not only possible, but probable. College started it, but meeting Aaron and his family solidified it. I could ESCAPE! Finishing college in York started on the rebuilding. Working and having to do for myself - and the fact that Aaron did expect me to handle my problems better than flaking the fuck out - created a new foundation. I made the choice and took the leap to move to Lancaster, with no funds, no idea what to expect, but into the oddly comforting arms of friends - like Thorne, who knew me back in my pathetic but wild days. Between her, Ray, Jackie, seeking work, learning more about myself was eye opening. Today I realized I was looking at people like people - either abstractedly or ignoring altogether, but they are/were people - instead as an escape. Today I realized I read much more for my own enjoyment and pleasure and less for escapism. Today I realized I loved my family, but I am happy at a distance away from them. I have my problems - there are many and strike at the core of my identity as a mother (but that's not my only identity) - but I am content with myself. I am and I like who I am. I am surrounded by people I could choose to be around, instead of people forced on me for whatever reason. I have the freedom to choose - to be - to relax. I can love without guilt, share without pain. I can withdraw if I want and my friends understand instead of preach to me. I'm no longer seeking an escape, or someone to rescue me. I am home. I like me.

What went through my mind today?

Today, I celebrated that Karen Crafton and Bill Pham had their son, Kai, on Wednesday. At the same time, I grieve for my friends Joel Woelfe and Jennifer Benton for the choice they have to make for their failing child, Shealynn who was premature and has respiratory damage. Also: Turk and his comment on how we view our friends of over 20 years - as they are, or as they were - and frankly, I do view them as my memory serves, even when they're face to face with me and they have gotten older. It distresses me. I saw a house for sale and daydreamed of being able to buy it, and build a life with my grandbabies. Only my grandbabies. I pondered breaking up with Oddity due to his inability to change - I have changed! I've become a driver, a permanent employee - three jobs, in fact - and making inroads on my bills. I am stable and can soon provide stability for my grandchildren - and that's where we run into the fork in the road that will divide us. He can't understand 'family'. And it saddens me. I also dealt with a broken hearted, grieving young woman regarding her cheating, grifter boyfriend. I think she has the strength and presence of mind - and maturity - to make the right decision, but oh, the agony she is suffering! I wish I could take it on myself (I've the calluses to withstand the pain) so that she can heal faster. I also stood above my granddaughter as she slept and felt awe that this child is spawn of my spawn, that this marvelously complex and intriguing and exasperating person is the fruit of my daughter's womb, and part of my story for a while. She is so beautiful. I also thought of my grandson and how I will see him, and hope he sees me as his nana, and that I want him more than anything. Money matters interwove through all these thoughts, as to how to make my payments, not having enough money to treat my grandchild to frozen yogurt, upset at my youngest daughter and my son for having to give up $30 of my hard earned dollars because they did not make proper choices in their lives. And I worry for them and grieve for them, and rail at them in my head and heart. I also listened to Kilroy was Here by Styx and Operation: Mindcrime by Queensryche, and developed my album storyline with Planet P Project and The Buggles' only album as starters, spanning fads and epochs - now I need a final concept album for this current timeframe. Along with all that I ate breakfast, fixed my hair, played Forge of Empires, visited Facebook - which was the real reason I started this train of thought, because a quick few words, a status, a twitter feed, cannot show the complexity of every hour of every person who wants people to know who they are. Iris - Goo Goo Dolls Bittersweet Symphony - The Verve Alien - Bush

I'm so glad I'm driving now after my 40s... I can't imagine myself any more calmer or centered!  And working three jobs makes it necessary to have the car! And having my granddaughter visit.

I'm aging. It's so fascinating, and scary, because I never wanted to really age, yet it's all kinds of normal. Why do we deny it? I still think we weren't meant to age, but some thing or some one fucked around with our DNA... then again, I believe in fairies.

Sometimes I wonder what would it be like to outlive everyone else... then I think of outliving my kids and... no. I don't want to. I'd rather age and die and have my kids live out their lives as they should. Without me freaking out.

wah wah wah

I hate impersonal government agencies. I wish Teribaby would own up (and her man just man up) and try something else. :( I miss My Michelle. I just want to be left alone. I want to do my own thing, work a lot and sleep, read, eat without anyone trying to interfere or put their two cents in. I want to move in with Ray but not in that tiny apartment. I don't want to move away from Gypsy. sigh. I want my grandbabies. I don't want to leave my jobs. I wish, however, that I lived close enough NOT to have to drive; adversely, I wish for more free time to drive more! I love driving! (yea, that is a huge paradigm shift for me!)

What do I write about? I'm trying to organize all the bills I have to pay. I know payment agencies have to force the issue, but that totally makes me want to not pay them. I don't care about my credit score at this time; it's bad, and won't get better because I go hungry. So they can kiss my ass. Getting the vehicle ready to be driveworthy is more important. This will enable me to say "yes, I can pay this off" instead of "kiss my ass" to the collection agency. Hard luck story indeed. The entire US of A is undergoing a hard luck story. Gonna miss the Sexy Beast car. Almost as much as I miss my Michelle. Oh, saw another dog I would so want to have - but she's not good with cats! WAH!!! and I dn't have the time. Her name was Lucy, sne was a mini pinscher, tan colored, and just awesome face. sigh. I want another dog. I want a life of my own. I want to have my own things in my own place and be able to support myself without resorting to asking another for help. I want my own kitchen and my own bathroom and my own living room to setup as I please. I love having three jobs. I realize I am not happy the way others are happy. I am happy when I'm productive, when I'm moving, when I'm active and self-sufficient. Sitting and relaxing does NOT make me happy. off for other endeavors.

Scared, but with a solution in sight - i am making my landlord suffer and I feel horrible about it, but things have to be paid as well as rent. I don't know how or what to do. But it will all be paid - can't let the car or phone lapse though. dammit. While I smile and seem calm, this fear of the financial realm has me near catatonic. I hope things work out, and that the situation I would like does come up and work out for me!

Music is Magic

There are songs that make me feel/think magically, like if it were to move me into another world. Dream Weaver, Gary Wright Let My Love (Open The Door) Peter Townshed Almost anything by The Who, Cream, Led Zeppelin, - hrm.. I'm noting it's a lot of 70s, like The Beatles and a great many of the folk/hippy stuff, and the classic rock stuff. Albums that tell stories - there aren't many of them anymore. :( The Beatles, The Who, The Doors, Alan Parsons Project, Queensryche, Queen - what were they called, concept albums? they were magical. Even modern music has this ability - in a different way, on a different level, techno, synthpop, industrial and goth open doorways to other places for me.

on JWs and life

I find myself still bitter and resentful not only towards the JW organization but towards society itself for trying to railroad me into being a good little female. I'm not... I'm proud of being a whore and a bitch and a cunt, a scifi/fantasy reader and a geek and a nerd; a weirdo who dresses funny and wants to act and walk and talk and fight like a man, who worships a female entity on odd days and taoist on even days.. a crazy person who doesn't want to care what society says, but must conform a bit just to be able to get a job and a home and a family... Oh, and oddly enough, my friends all think I'm too happy-go-lucky and joyous to be real... I love being a contradiction. Why is it so strange, when we as humans are dichotomous by nature? Nature itself is sweet and cruel, harsh and easy, cold and hot, all at the same time! Why can't we be contradictions in our own flesh? Why the need to conform?

I really like being able to drive. I don't have to drive every day; that is very liberating. But I like having this independence, and freedom. Gypsy was right! Now, how to keep it? I may end up working my ass off September-December and learning how to severely save, to have my own car. I know generally what I want; a simple, efficient four door sedan. I'll settle for a 2 door if it has good gas mileage - after all, I suspect it will be, for a while, solely for me and my dog. I want to bring Teri here with Neno, but she's not free of her need to be in a relationship with Neno's father, and I don't want him around unless he can provide. Now, that's a catch-22 - 'cause if he can provide, then there's no need for my kid to come live with me. I want to care for this house so bad; fill it with simple furniture and comfortable things. I want to live in a place without fur in every corner and be warm. I may have to leave once Michelly passes away; this fills me with pain but where can I find a good, safe but cheap apartment that will allow my dog?

Home...

Back home from NYC. First time I felt a connection to the city in years. I admired the fashions, the shoes, the energy... I loved it. I still was anxious to return to Lancaster. With grandbaby. both, but at this time I content myself with the eldest. It was pleasant, being in NY this time around, even though I just wanted to go back home to Lanc. I could relax. And with next trip, I will, 'cause I'll stay with a friend as well as with Ebo. I love my life.

Personal, yet online...

I like that no one knows of this, truly. I can often spill (when I remember to spill) on this freely. I have my granddaughter for a whole month! I still have to work et al, but I get to spend time with her and talk to her and feel her grow a little. I was with her the first few months of her life; now I can reconnect. Soon, I'll find a way to help my youngest child and her son, and have them HOPEFULLY close enough to see my grandson and influence him more. I have to sacrifice my rather madcap life path, but... it may be worth it to salvage my grandkids...

We live, to die. I have this idea that we weren't originally meant to do so, but via mutation/interference we lost immortality. Then again, cancer is a sort of immortality (something about cells reproducing out of control, malignant and devouring, unable to maintain). What if cancer is our organism's way of trying to achieve/return to the state of immortality? I don't know if I want to live longer than I may be living. I'd love to see what happens, and while I'd never want to revisit my teens, it would be beneficial to be younger and more able to survive/withstand/prevail any future if I were at a peak physical age (personally, my peak was 30...) Out of money and time to make money. Feeling fearful for the next few months, as Ivy will be here and I have to pay phone, rent and car rental. But at least I have a car... as fearful as I am of it! Want to go to extravaganza this weekend; really wanted to camp out, but if with Ray, then I'll have to leave early enough. Not happy about it; but compromises have to be made. I feel bad for Ray as I get more used to driving about; he will wish for the days I didn't, as there are things I want to do that he doesn't share with me. I would have been content to do whatever he wants, but he would go on these rants about how I don't have this skill or that stability and now, well, he's gonna eat his words. off.

I feel so terribly comfortable walking at night. It's a little scary sometimes, that I feel safer outside than indoors. eh. love dancing. Gotta organize my room. It's like a bomb went off in here. I have yellow roses. Daydreaming. Good night.

I'd like to know why it's never been explored, that each of our bodies are uniquely individual. There truly is no size fits all; we all have different reactions to many different things. I can only dwell on myself. I can't eat bread; drink apple juice; eat pizza; drink regular milk; use certain makeups; take medication normally... etc etc etc. Am I overly sensitive, or just very very aware of my body's reaction to things? I often don't feel my possessions leaving my person, or being attached, but I do feel every fucking bite I take and how it is digested in my body. There was a time I thought eating was a punishment; I was always in pain and always uncomfortable eating. A random article, well into my 40s, about a person with the inability to gain weight - no matter what, but instead had abnormal reactions to what other people ate to gain weight started me on the search for what the hell was wrong with my body. It seems I may have IBS - however, I'm not so sure it's a bad thing. It's helped me avoid the pitfalls of beer belly and middle age/secretary's spread. It certainly has saved me the discomfort I grew up with in my belly!!! Then there's the possible schizophrenia/ADHD... now I'm not sure if it wasn't just a physiological reaction to what my body was undergoing fighting with the foodstuffs and drugs given to make me better. I hallucinate, I hear voices, I feel things, I believe some wildly unbelieavable things... but now, without meds, without certain foods, with narrowing my intake of things and watching/monitoring what I use and eat, I've lost all that (well, except for being hyperactive) and again.. I've always been thin, but now I don't feel like my middle is weighed with iron or stone. My head feels clearer, I am less inclined to fly off the handle, and less indulgent with the 'bad days'. Then I read about how many of the things I felt weren't really a mental illness, just things the brain can do to itself. And I wonder... was it due, again to reactions of my body to things? Or was I in fact mentally ill (am I? not sure still). Nothing is strange when it comes to how your brain, your body, your emotions, your digestive system, your bones, etc, will react to things that are either uniquely beneficial to you, or uniquely malicious to you. You have to listen to your body to find out. That's my theory.

I went through all the old pictures I had hidden in the basement. Humidity made some of them tacky. I did the rest...

Anyway, something my best friend gypsy told me in passing kept coming back to me: "you've been skinny all your life..." I'm looking at the pictures from when I was a wee lass, all through school, pregnancies (I burned all those), kids, the various bfs, etc etc etc, and while I am not very pretty in a handful of them, indeed, I have ALWAYS been thin. Where the hell did I get the thought that my stomach protruded, or that I was chunky in the thigh area? Not even the pictures that were at my worse (and boy, do I think I look ugly in those) do I look anything but slim...

and I was/am pretty. I never thought I was pretty. As a young girl, I had a fragile sort of look, all big eyes and lips and fine face. As a mom, depending on the situation, I looked well or very sickly. Yet you can see fine features in all of them, even the goofy ones. Perhaps its age; they say when you look back at 40, you realize you were prettier than you thought you were.

I'm gonna be 50; gone are the full lips and the tight skin on the face, yet I have fine features, strong and well delineated. I am still slim and not saggy at all. Even my skin, showing it's age, still looks like it glows. Dare I enjoy this? I don't know. I just wish I hadn't taken all this time to see the pretty girl I was/am/will be.

My son living with me for the nonce; wondering how my baby daughter is doing. She got a job at a restaurant. I hope she can learn how not to use people.

I feel horrible! My daughter was sending my granddaughter to me, and we weren't aware 11 was too young to travel on train alone. So I don't have my granddaughter. The sorrow and dissapointment she must be feeling is killing me; I love that child so much!!! I want her to myself for ever so long, just to have my baby with me, my first grandchild, this amazing wonderful delightful smart and precocious child.

I wish I could take my heart out, it hurts so bad.

I resented him, sometimes. I knew he was needy for a reason - brain tumors, increasing pain from a back injury from a job, coupled with the desire not to be dependent on anyone and to be alone - I understood this. Sometimes my life doesn't allow me to be where I am needed by people, and I do resent that.

He committed suicide. He called me to be there. And now, I am haunted that I could not be more for him. He was just a friend, a guy who was bitter at how life had treated him, what it had handed to him, how it had left him. I see him everywhere now (which can be just the drawbacks of a small town). I see him at the Weis, at the restaurant I work, walking up the block painfully, or at the top of the stairs, asking for some assistance. He was lonely, and sometimes I feel I let him down.

I was there for him when it was worth it, though. I cared for him through his attempt at suicide, and then his body just gave out, and I found him there, cold, stiff, lavender skinned. I helped dispose of his effects.

In a sense, I'm glad I am haunted by him. I am glad I knew him. I am glad I found out about him. I am sorry his life became what it was these last few years. He is at peace now.