"You need to be living, not observing."

For fear of being too dark, I haven't been writing. Not that life is bad, but thoughts tend to be dark when I allow myself to think, that is. I've been avoiding it mostly. I threw myself into Six Feet Under followed by Dexter and have been contently distracted. TV and movies are my vice. After a friend shared her grief over losing two friends, I was struck by her ability to dive in and feel it all. She wrote a beautiful poem for one of her friends dying of cancer. She shared the poem with me.

I shared with you that first moment
dreams of capsized boats, drowning, water washing me to the shore repeatedly. I didn't know until the telling what they meant. Looking into your eyes, hearing your story of encroaching death, I knew I was flooding, not from without, regardless of metaphor or vessel, but from within. Our first meeting one of hugs, tears, a knowledge of unspoken,unspeakable shared grief. I held you as lighthouse, beacon, revered mentor. You touched my tears, overlooked my fragility, allowed me to lean against you even though I, physically, was the stronger of the two. And as this, your end, draws near, you reach through space with strength I do not have. You touch me one last time to share words of praise, knowing how important goodbyes are for mooring, how lost I am at sea.
-Ronda Miller

Reading this immediately had me in tears. Just the idea of writing a poem to try to express the depths of your grief about someone so close to you dying. I've been too scared too write anything for fear it wouldn't come close to representing how I truly feel. I doubt I have the words to describe my fear and doubt that any words could even inhabit the weight in my chest. But, I don't have to be great at it, I just have to put it out there. If anything, to maybe see if anyone out there is feeling similar things. I can't be feeling anything original about death and dying.

I don't even understand my preoccupation with it. My (new) therapist says that it could be PTSD. That I have past trauma about death and those around me dying, therefore I'm just running scenarios over and over in my head. When asked to write down all the people I've known that died and how they died, I realized that out of close to 20 people, only 2 died of natural causes. The rest died tragically--car accident, overdose, suicide or cancer. So, she is going to do EMDR therapy with me. EMDR (Eye Movement Desensitization and Reprocessing) is a psychotherapy that enables people to heal from the symptoms and emotional distress that are the result of disturbing life experiences.  If it works, it seems that my obsessing about death could end. Also, my anxiety could be drastically reduced. I don't know much about it, but I'm willing to try anything. My thoughts lately causes me to distance myself from my writing, from talking deeply with anyone--because I suck at small talk and become a tv zombie. After telling Ronda my thoughts about her poem and how I've been avoiding most things, her response was, "you need to be living, not observing." Words couldn't be more true.

So although some posts may seem a little whacky, oh well...I have to write them anyway. So, we'll see how it goes. More to come.

S.A.D. is here!! Enjoy!!

I am shocked at how many I haven't seen! Now I'm excited.


It's Seasonal Affective Disorder time folks! Snuggle up, close the shutters, get some hot chocolate and watch some movies to escape from reality. I've been binging on Six Feet Under, so I'm right there with you. It's all about escape for me. (And my life is pretty good...??) It doesn't seem to matter if you are surrounded by a great life...for some reason, the blues can still creep up on you. I'm up and down. Today, up, thank goodness. But I had a day last week where I was in a pretty good funk. It's a hard feeling to deal with. And for some reason, even if you know it's going to end...at the time you are feeling it, you forget. At least I do. It's all about hopeless, cranky and not wanting to see anyone.

So, if you can't see people...watch them. Sometimes getting lost in a movie is the best thing. (or a book, of course...)


Enjoy.

http://www.pastemagazine.com/blogs/lists/2012/10/15-classic-fall-movies.html

http://www.buzzfeed.com/briangalindo/20-movies-to-watch-with-your-kids-this-halloween#kgcifx

http://www.digitalspy.com/movies/at-the-movies/a517123/12-brilliant-autumn-movies-good-will-hunting-500-days-of-summer.html#~oQGL1vqmoviWwf


I will promise to post my reviews of the ones I watch. I need to force myself to post these days. My lack of posting is in direct correlation to my ups and downs, I apologize. The Robin Williams death took me out for quite some time. It triggered so many things that came out of nowhere. Unreal.

More to come, folks.

If all else fails...go for an autumn walk and look at the gorgeous trees!!! it helps me.

On death and dying

I think my biggest fear is that dying will be the end. Just nothing. That everyone that has died so far is no where. They are just gone. They aren't looking down on us. They aren't in a better place, they are just in nothingness. I obsess over death and dying. I obsess over people around me dying. Every time Jason leaves to go anywhere...I always think that could be the last time I see him. I go over the entire scenario in my head. I've done this for years. The death of friends and loved ones haunt me.  I want to  believe that I will see them again. The thought of seeing my grandparents again has always been a comfort to me. It always felt like a sure thing.

I realize that this is a faith thing. That's something to address another day.

Robin Williams' death had a huge impact on me for some reason. I am devastated. It is like a close friend has died. I've cried a lot. I've spent hours on YouTube watching everything I could find that he was in. It was if I've beens studying him...to see if I could see something that would make me understand him more. Could we have been able to tell? Could I tell he was really depressed deep down?

To get to the point where living is just too painful. When you feel compelled to make yourself disappear. When the thoughts of friends and family aren't enough to keep you here. When depression has completely taken over and you are left with no other option but to free yourself from it. When it is no longer a choice. That is what I focused on. That breaks my heart. And I am selfish for wanting him to continue his life that way.

On the Tuesday morning, the morning after he died, I woke up early to watch The Today Show. It was dedicated to him. Zoë crawled in bed with me just as it started. I had tears falling down my face.
Z- Did he die?
me- Yes.
-How?
-He was horribly sad. When that happens, it's just too much and you can't be here anymore.
-Is he sad now?
-(pause) No.
-Then why are you sad?

Geesh. So true. We are selfish...the ones left behind. In this situation at least. He was in pain, now he's not...but I don't care. I want him to be here still. I want someone to help him. The other thing I struggle with is whether or not he was ever happy in his life. If you get to the point where you have to die to escape the pain--it seems as if your mind and body could take no more. As if you've been struggling for so long, it has to end.

I began to feel really strange. Why is this affecting me so much? I didn't know him. He was a famous person. Other famous people have died and it didn't affect me like this. (Princess Diana's death is the closest to this one.) One reason, I think, is that he reminds me so much of my grandpa. His arms and hands. His mouth and the way he laughs...identical. The way he walks. Watching him in movies, I always felt comforted seeing those things. Unhealthy, maybe. But somehow I melded the two together.

But also because he always made me laugh. He was the sure thing. He was just happiness. He was kind. He was "always happy" and it was comforting. He was always a comforting presence...bring back those feelings of childhood and being around grandpa. I'm not sure I will fully understand the impact, but I guess it doesn't matter. I feel the way I feel. And it has conjured up so many emotions and thoughts. It stirred up a lot of sadness. It was like a release to sit and watch him and cry. A switch was flipped.

And I couldn't tell Jason. I couldn't really tell anyone. Well, my friend Ronda seemed to understand the most. I told some friends and they were very sweet to listen...but Ronda seemed to GET it. Suicide and everything that surrounds it haunts me. It scares me. It makes me feel hopeless and powerless. The love of family and friends isn't enough. The amazing place the world is...wasn't enough. The money and the fame--is never enough. It seems as if has been programmed and it is inevitable in some cases. James Taylor said that Robin's death was inevitable. I read that 2 weeks ago and wanted to understand why he said that.

Last night I read the Rolling Stone article about him. I will say that after reading it, I understand why he said it. If you put together all of the instances where people saw his depth of sadness, his way of deflecting and redirecting, his inability to stay present when asked difficult questions, his lonely childhood, his emotional breakdowns coupled with fits of performing...and performing as if it was something he HAD to do in order to get through the moments. All if it...this person was hiding. He hid in whatever he could find. Making people laugh...that seemed to be a drug. Drugs were a hiding place. He distracted himself with affairs early on. He distracted himself by riding his bike. Taking off and riding past it all...not having to be present with someone...not feeling he had to perform in order to be in control of the situation...ugh.

Do I believe his pain is gone? Yes.
Do I know where he is? No. But I want to believe I'll be in the same place one day.
I want to believe that I will be with my children forever in a way. The thought of dying and that's just it...it's too much to bare.

The whole thing has taken over my mind. Now I have to dive in and figure out why THAT is. It makes me feel extremely alone.

Steamboat by Adrianne Lenker

STEAMBOAT

Well I’m just a stranger
I’m only a walker
I guess I am human
But sometimes I feel like I’m only a ghost
Like I’m only a wall
If you come around honey
I’ll probably just follow you home
‘Cause it’s all that I know how to do
I was born by a body
I’ll die by one too
And places are nothing if they ain’t got you

And one day ima be a steamboat baby
One day I can be your freight train lady
I roll down the river and the miles won’t phase me

Oh I wish I was better at being alone
Still every night I call you on the phone
Oh I wish I was more than my skin and my bone

Well I’ve been arranging
each of my movements
All of my gestures
And trying to fool myself into thinking
That everything’s small
That nothing has reason
I woke up and cried
A convulsion of honesty
Brought me to life
When I thought I was gone
But I can’t put a lie in the 
Mouth of a song

One day I ma be a steamboat baby
One day I can be your freight train lady
Roll down the river and the miles won’t phase me
Oh I wish I was better at being alone
Still every night I call you on the phone
Oh I wish I was more than my skin and my bone
Oh I wish I was more than my skin and my bone

© 2013 Adrianne Lenker. All Rights Reserved.

Man...these lyrics resonate with me so much. Especially in my 20s and early 30s. How many of us have felt like this? Love it. 

Found this today...

I'm glad a lobotomy wasn't suggested...

I am doing a piss poor job of writing here. I haven't been real excited to sit down and pour out any thoughts. I've been turning over something in my brain for a few weeks now. Just wondering about some things. And of course, avoiding them as well.

When I was 19, I was diagnose manic-depressive and was immediately put on medication that I was on and off of for the next 10 years. Most of the medicine made me pretty nutty...I just thought that it was just me being crazy. I was embarrassed and insecure about it all--and a HUGE drama queen.

So, come to find out (I'm shortening this story for you) that I was diagnosed wrong. Isn't that a kick in the pants. After spending quite some time with my therapist and meeting with a doctor--they've both concluded that I have adult ADHD. I was sort in shock because in my head, ADHD means someone that can't sit still and can't stay on task. They said that it has nothing to do with me physically. My mind jumps around for me. (I've know this part.) They wet over lots of symptoms of my behavior that lead them to this conclusion. They said I was never manic-depressive. I probably was ADHD the entire time. The medication I was on to "correct" the other was pretty...well, it screwed me up pretty well. I lost a job, friends and time to my insanity I kept going by putting more and more meds into my system for something I didn't suffer with.

I cried. I thought about how long I've felt so weird inside and that I seemed to behind in maturity. My friends always seemed more focus and driven. I was flighty and completely unfocused. I'm not going to blame it for everything, but I do feel that it's very possible things could have been different. That being said, I ended up in about the best place I could be in--so I can't spend too much time looking backward.

My doctor said she's had about 100 cases where a person with ADHD was diagnosed as something else and put on the wrong medication. The lesson I got from this was...if I'm going to get 4 opinions for which doctor to operate on my hip, I should have gone to a few about what meds (if any) would go into my brain.

So yes, I've been put on medication to see if it will help me or not. I guess my forgetfulness, rapid thoughts anxiety and being a big escapist can be helped. You'll have to stay tuned for the results. I can't really tell anything yet. I'm not sure what I'm looking for, really.

Master Class--Warning--an emotional purge

I've been watching reruns of Oprah's Master Class series on OWN. It's really gets me thinking about so many things. I recently re-watched the two part episode of the one focusing on Oprah, herself. It's remarkable. Her life is so inspiring. But I think what I most appreciate is her attitude and view of life. She is an optimist. She can see the beauty of her own life. She appreciates her journey. Her beginnings were horrific. She knows pain that far exceeds my own. During college I wallowed in such things in my life that seem so small now. They were issues so many other people were having. My problems were so small, relatively speaking. It embarrasses me now. It shouldn't, but does.

Some people seem to be born with some type of inner strength. Maybe God put it there...maybe they developed it on their own-but I don't think so. When I see what some have overcome with such bravery, I am in such awe. It makes me feel as if they are made of different material than I am. I spend a lot of time wanting to be more. I always look at others and want to be like them. One of the things she said on the show was "the fact that you are...matters. You matter. The fact that everything came together in one single moment to create you--the fact that you are even here...proves you matter." (i'm paraphrasing) She also talks about the fact that one should quit looking to change. Stop wishing you could change. Stop looking to others to find how to be. You were created exactly the way you are for a reason.  Basically stop doing what I do most days of my life. I somehow lack a lot of self worth. I even hate THAT about myself. I am missing something. I've felt that all of my life. It's like God forgot to add an ingredient. Or have I not discovered it yet? Maybe it's a muscle that is completely unused.

I don't trust my own feelings. I don't have faith in my own ideas. I don't have an inner strength that others have. I have friends that do...and I am always wanting to be more like them. I want to be a different person for my children. I want to be someone they find comfort and safety in. My mother spent most of my childhood depressed. She locked herself away from the world a lot. She was sad and angry. She is reclusive. She is a good person. She is kind and very giving. She is so selfless in some ways...I think it hurts her. She doesn't live her own life...she helps everyone else live theirs. There is something about being selfish at the right times, that I feel is okay. I think it is okay to show your children that making hard choices in order to make yourself happy is okay. It might be hard for others to understand, but in the long run, you will be a better example of how to get through life in the best way.

I want to surround myself with positive, happy people. However, honestly, a lot of the people around me are hurt and angry. They struggle with obstacles in life. They have a hard time dealing with things that are outside themselves. What I mean is that they have a hard time learning from the outside world. They are so focused inward that they have a hard time relating to other people. They are easily frustrated unless things go the way they need them. They are not versatile. If you haven't figured it out, I am talking about one person in particular...but don't want to call them out. It's difficult to be around them at times. Other times, they are great. I'm not saying they are always miserable...or selfish. They are extremely giving...but I do feel that they do what they feel is expected of them. I feel that living a life of doing as you think others need--can store such a lifetime of resentment.

I lived in two extremely different households growing up. They couldn't be more different. I had to adapt. Children do what they have to survive emotionally. I feel like I changed my personality and how I acted constantly. I looked to others to know how to be. I didn't feel safe to just be who I was. My dad wasn't big on kids...you needed to act a certain way. You had to act like an adult really. He wanted you to have the insight of an adult...knowing how to act all of the time. He was irritated otherwise. My mom wasn't like that. However, she really wasn't around a lot. At least, that's my memory. I don't have a strong memory of any parent being really THERE. My grandparents were. They spent a lot of quality time with me. That's what a child remembers. Unconditional love. I try very hard to make sure my girls know I am here. That they are loved and adored. I know they will have strong memories of their parents. I think, for the most part, we are doing a good job.

I realize it's a filmed and edited program, but Oprah comes across so calm and so at peace with who she is as a person. She is confident and makes no apologies for who she is. She comes across so wise and as if she has some inside information on life itself. She has a stillness that I want. I feel like my insides are always jumbled. My mind constantly doubts my actions and words. It creates anxiety and makes me very unsettled. I hate to stir the pot. I hate to cause ripples. I do at times. I speak my mind and then spend weeks feeling sick about it. So sick that I am almost paralyzed. I lack confidence of being.

This could go on and on an on...it's more like a purge. if you made it this far, wow.

If anyone has a book they recommend...please let me know. I need an Eat, Pray, Love wake up.


BTW--I use the term God...I also use "the universe"--God represents so much...it's an all encompassing force that creates nature and the internal stuff inside of people (soul, I guess) that is unique in everyone. I will admit, it isn't a Christian God. It's not restricted to one type of person. It's just a term I use for the feeling I have inside and all that was created that I am in awe of.

Crawling out from my rock.

So, it's been about 2 months. I've been cheating on you. I took a couple of writing classes and put my focus there, but now I'm back. Creative Journaling was fun. It focused more on creating writing from many different inspirations. Discovering your feelings by going in another door. I thought it was cool. I learned a lot. The other class was a class that focused on motherhood. We went out to a beautiful retreat in the woods for a day. There were only 4 of us. They were lovely women. I focused on writings about the girls mostly.

This blog is always in the back of my head..."you need to write." However, I never wanted to be a slave to it. I wanted to want to write.

I dipped a bit into a little bluesy feeling. I'm now newly medicated and feeling much better. In the past, the medications I was on made me feel drugged. I don't feel that way now. Just less anxious. Working out helps. I go about 5 times a week now. Trying to get in shape for Tough Mudder.  I started running. I HATE IT. It just sucks, honestly. I will never run for enjoyment. I can't even comprehend that. I am instantly tired. I thought I was in shape. Nope.

I feel like I need to take the blog in yet another direction. I feel like i've said that before. Instead of having pointless posts, I thought about writing ABOUT something. The creative journaling class opened up a new way to look at blogs. There will some daily thoughts, but also some writing that has more shape.

I'll put the idea in the subject and we'll see what happens.

But today is just catch up.

Cresting

Seriously, I am okay. My blogs in the past months are really damn depressing. Yikes. I will blame Seasonal Affective Disorder and move on from it.

Today...we need something light.

Zoe told me her favorite movie is Frozen. It used to be The Wizard of Oz, before that The Princess Bride. She might finally have one appropriate for her age group. ha.

She asked me what mine was...I always say the same thing, The English Patient. However, I have lots of movies that I put on constantly that are sort of like going home. I'm not saying they are uplifting...but I seem to lean toward the script. I love good dialogue. I love good conversation. I love movies that shed light on fucked up families. And some that have great scripts that just make me feel good.

In absolutely no particular order...I'm choosing the first ten that come to me, or I'll sit here for hours and do this.

The Big Chill
One True Thing
The Family Stone
Wonder Boys
Moonlight Mile
The Way We Were
The Four Seasons
When Harry Met Sally
You've Got Mail
Out of Africa

Okay, one more...because I can't leave out Tootsie. I really love Tootsie.

See! I made it without anything grim or whiny!!!

(The sun is out today...that helps.)

I made it through the rain! (I love Barry....)

I was going  to reread my post from last night and decided not to.

Today was a new day and I  unplugged my brain a bit. Yesterday I was desperately floundering. I will say that Jason said some things last night that helped put things into perspective. The heaviness is gone in my chest. I didn't give him enough credit. I don't normally talk to him when I'm feeling a bit crazy...worried that he'll be disappointed or annoyed for some reason. ?? Like I'm  his girlfriend and not his wife. WTF? I  have issues. Anyway, he kept seeing me sneak off and have phone conversations with friends and I think his feelings were a bit hurt. "You are talking to them about how you're feeling? Why aren't you talking to me?" I told him I really didn't think he'd understand. I told him a few thoughts and he whipped into "You are looking at this ALL WRONG!" mode. I won't go into the point by point discussion we had where he basically disproved everything negative feeling I had about myself...but I will say that I felt loved. Today, I just feel relieved. Relieved that I have people I can talk to when I'm whacked. Relieved that one of them is actually in Rochester! (that took a while) Relieved that Jason is on my side. I think I put him vs me for some reason. Yesterday, EVERYONE was VS ME.

I just watched a show I taped on OWN about women and aging. Sharon Stone was on. She is now 56 and said that she really didn't have peace with herself until she was 50. Oprah seemed to agree with that. That was a relief as well. I was looking at 40 like I had 5 mins to pack up my things and take off in a plane or something and my room looks like a tornado hit it. Where's my bag? What clothes? Where am I even going?? Like I was TOTALLY unprepared to be who I was supposed to be. As if there is an alarm and when it goes off you can't grow anymore. You can't learn...you are done. Put your pencils down. I felt like I had to be a complete person by a certain time. I'm not sure where that feeling comes from. More therapy questions.

Today...Z was sick (it wasn't pretty...ugh.) and I took care of her. She got her bath tonight. She drank fluids and ate her crackers and she didn't have an episode after noon. I had to break Harper of her pacifier cold turkey because the dentist told me that it was ruining the shape of her mouth. She said I still had time for it to "grow out" and she'd be fine, but NO MORE PACIFIER. (Z had hers until she was 2 1/2 or something crazy.) So, Harper cried (sort of all day) out of frustration. As if she was in detox...I held her and tried to be as soothing as I could. She went to bed tonight...without even a whimper.

It was a good day.

The Incredible Shrinking woman...

At 39, I feel no more put together than I did as a kid. I felt that my anxieties about family and friends would go away. That I would be stronger and more confident. That I would have built a life of my own and not feel as if I were so emotionally tied to my family....since I felt they were a source of stress for me. I know that many people feel this way about their families...but my chest still caves in at the thought of conflict. If I feel that people are upset or distant...I feel out of balance. I have anxiety attacks. I was co-dependent for such a long time...and although moving helped that...it didn't cure me of this feeling. My family (with the exception of my step sister) doesn't talk or really address their feelings. They tend to ignore major events that cause trauma and move on as if the mountain will look smaller the further they get from it. "See...it wasn't that big..." Time does not heal all wounds. With some people they become calloused and numb with time. With me, I feel as if things just fester, blister and cause a chronic, painful abscess.

Growing older has been great--with finding Jason and having the girls. It's been great to meet the friends I have and creating life long experiences that I can share with them. It's been nice to make some type of shape to my life. From the outside looking in, I think my life looks great. My facebook pictures portray a happy me.

And it isn't that I'm not. I guess I thought I'd be more secure. I thought I'd have more direction. I thought I'd be less insecure and full of anxiety about what others think. Inside, I feel as if I'm still in grade school. I feel as if I am still trying to get more love and attention from my parents. I feel as if my older sister and I are not close--thinking years would change that fact and it hasn't seem to. In a way, she and my dad are so similar. I feel they are both good people. They are kind to me...and they like me--but they find it difficult to be around me and don't have any desire to be close to me. My dad sees my girls once a year.

Okay, I did move away. And as I've felt a lot of times in  my life...I wonder if I moved away to see if anyone would come see me. That's a childish way of looking at it all. As if they only saw me because I was within reasonable reach...and now that it takes some effort...it's not worth it. Did I do all of this to prove myself right? To give myself a reason to feel left out of things and to confirm (unfairly) that my original feelings were correct? My family seems to think that since I moved away--I put the boundary in place. As if it was a tactical maneuver to live away from them--and therefore, they feel rejected. ??? I'm so whacked out about this.

Some of my friends come off so strong. They have a "take no shit" attitude. They make healthy choices with their lives. They seem SO MUCH stronger than I do. I still feel like a weakling emotionally. I really hate it. I especially hate it for my girls. I need to get it together so that they don't learn bad habits from me and grow up feeling nervous and insecure about things. What is it going to take??

Frustwriting. (sounds like I'm Aussie!)

So after enrolling in a class at Writers and Books (a writers haven in Rochester)--my class was cancelled due to low enrollment. DAMN! This is the 3rd time. However, this time, I felt horribly let down. I was so excited to get back to going to a class and forcing myself to write and be around other writers. They are a different breed of people. Mostly focused inward--sadly, but still creative and fun to be around.

I'll try again.

Going to take a nap now...ugh.

The Kill (I'd only watch if you like TSTM or The Shining)

Artifact

I watched Artifact last night. It's the 30 Seconds to Mars documentary about their fight with their record label. A lot of scenes with them working and creating. Jason said he could not relate to it at all. I definitely have been around people like that. They are hard to comprehend for an engineer. "I don't relate to this at all." Half the time when I hear him on the phone it sounds as if he's speaking another language.

He's not a creative one and I think creative people come across as crazy or immature. Most of the time they are wandering or constantly questioning things. Nothing is black and white. They are emotional and in tune with their emotions--even if they don't share them. Most of them need a lot of counseling. HA!

Anyway, I dug it. When someone is able to tap into something that feeds them in every way and they feel like THIS is what they were meant to do. I am in awe.

ARTIFACT - OFFICIAL TRAILER (Thirty Seconds To Mars Documentary)

Missing: Sense of self. Please call if found.

I've always felt that I had something to say...well, that I had some type of writing that needed to be done. As if it were one of my purposes in life. I can't figure out where to start. I can't seem to write every day. I think I need to start with one sentence, or maybe a subject to break through the block. I'm at such a strange part of my life. Staying at home with the girls has been odd for me. I love them and I'm so happy with who they are becoming, but I am lacking in being interesting--I feel. I'm quite boring, actually. I'm a little needy. I come across as wanting a connection with someone so badly that I feel it's a turn off. I've been going to a women's group...well, I had my first session this past week. It was eye opening, sort of. We all had very similar feelings about raising children and about feeling boring and lacking a real connection with anyone. We all seem to have lost our true sense of self. Maybe it isn't just a mom thing...but a human thing. Some just seem more put together than others. I'm not sure I've ever been put together--at least not how I'd like to be. I am always insecure about making new friends. Insecure about my "weirdness."

I have a general high anxiety level that makes me feel set apart from other people. It makes me want to talk about how I'm feeling a lot in a way to understand it or to compare it to how others feel. There are about 3-4 people in the world that I always feel comfortable talking about how I really feel without worrying what they are thinking.

At this point in my life...I continue to wonder if I will always feel like this. If I will ever have a strong sense of self. If I will be able to come across as confident and wise to my daughters. If I will always have issues with anxiety and the feeling of not being complete. There seems to be a crucial thing missing from my life--and I can't figure out quite what it is.

I'm hoping I'm a late bloomer.

I'm trying to write every day and it isn't working out. Either I forget, am too tired or I'm uninspired. I'm going to take a class to jumpstart myself. It starts in 2 weeks. I think writing has to become a part of your day, like a habit or daily ritual. A lot of people write in the morning. I don't have time until mid day or evening...and then I'm spent.

The girls are growing. I can see things changing. Life will be different once Harper isn't a baby anymore. She is technically a toddler...but when she really starts talking, it will be a new ball game. Things may get easier. Some are more challenged during the teen years. I am definitely not a grade school person. I like conversation and ideas...I can't wait to watch REAL movies with them and discuss. I have no idea what I'm going to do with myself a year from now. Harper will be starting pre-school and I will need to find a place in society again. That causes my chest to be heavy. I've never had a career. I have daydreams about things, but I've never worked toward completing any of them. Maybe I will have the courage by then.

Spring needs to come. I'm claustrophobic.

The Friendship Connection

When I was young, my mom used to tell me, "If you get to the end of your life and you can count your true friends on one hand...you are lucky." I remember thinking to myself, "only one hand? but I have tons of friends!"
I ha
Now I get it.

Life shows you a lot about yourself. You put up with a lot when you are younger that you don't when you are older. I was naïve and hadn't had a lot of highs and lows...not a ton of empathy. I was sympathetic, but having not been in a lot of situations where I had first hand knowledge of love and loss...and tragedy...and how to comfort, I was clueless and came across as unfeeling. Knowing how to truly comfort someone in a time of loss or tragedy was something I had to learn. I am still learning. Some are born with that gift. I wish I had been. My friendships were solidified during my hard times. I was very trying. It was a trying time. True friendship is a commitment. I'm not saying to keep someone around who is toxic, but we all go through hard times and to stick with someone and see them through to the other side shows love. Love defines it all.

Moving away from everyone is an interesting test to friendships. I've done it a few times. Some reach out. Some don't. Some come see you. Some don't. Some can't. But there are those that when you finally catch up to each other, nothing has changed. It's not surface...we dive right in. I appreciate that. Even new friends that can dive into real conversations instead of small talk. I'm not good at it. But then you meet those who are not comfortable with anything more than surface...I start talking and they look at me as if I have another head. I used to feel insecure about it. Now, I just feel like exiting immediately. I don't have time for this. I almost get irritated. REALLY non judgmental of me. I just know that I'm not their time of person and this isn't going to work.

I find it harder and harder to find good friends. It's probably because I'm spoiled by the good friends I already have. I'm open to it, though. I've found 2-3 here since I've moved here. 3 in 5 years...not awful. It's better than nothing. And the friendships continue to grow. Different stages of life seem to bring about different friends...as others drift away. The drifting is hard for me. I have a hard time letting people go.

Cherish your friends. Try to keep in touch no matter what stage you are in. No matter what mood you are in...they are going through the same moods with ups and downs. We're all in this together. It's hard. It doesn't matter if you have kids and they don't. If you are married and they aren't. If you are 20 years younger or older...it's the connection. If you can find it, grab hold.

Another Day

Everyday she takes a morning bath she wets her hair
Wraps a towel around her as she's heading for the bedroom chair
It's just another day

Slipping into stockings, stepping into shoes
Dipping in the pocket of her raincoat
It's just another day

At the office where the papers grow she takes a break
Drinks another coffee and she finds it hard to stay awake
It's just another day
It's just another day
It's just another day

So sad, so sad, sometimes she feels so sad
Alone in her apartment she'd dwell
Till the man of her dreams comes to break the spell

Stay, don't stand around and he comes and he stays
But he leaves the next day, so sad
Sometimes she feels so sad

As she posts another letter to the sound of five
People gather 'round her and she finds it hard to stay alive
It's just another day
It's just another day
It's just another day

So sad, so sad, sometimes she feels so sad
Alone in her apartment she'd dwell
Till the man of her dreams comes to break the spell

Stay, don't stand around and he comes and he stays
But he leaves the next day, so sad
Sometimes she feels so sad

Everyday she takes a morning bath she wets her hair
Wraps a towel around her as she's heading for the bedroom chair
It's just another day

Slipping into stockings, stepping into shoes
Dipping in the pocket of her raincoat
It's just another day
It's just another day
It's just another day

Another Day--Paul McCartney

This song is in my head today. And I figure, if you haven't heard it, you should.I love the song..except for the line, "Til the man of her dreams comes to break the spell." uhh..not necessary. (but this was written by a man...)

Woody Allen. (if you even give a shit about it...here's how I feel.)

Okay, I'm just going to discuss this situation because it's bothering me. I hate the part of growing up when you witness a parent or an adult close to you do something and you think, "Shit...I thought you were perfect."

Here's the thing. I love Woody Allen movies post 1975. I'm not a fan of his earlier work. But his movies that deal with human relationships with all of their complexities and such have always interested me. His has a gift for dialogue and story. He gives women leading roles and started my love affair with Diane Keaton--albeit one sided.

I knew about his relationship with Mia's adopted daughter. I was 17 though...and I just moved past it. (I didn't really start getting interested in his work until about 20, I think.) Husbands and Wives was the first movie I thought...yeah...I like how this works. His movies have such insanely flawed and corrupt people. Some of his movies are bombs (for me). I'm not a fan of everything...but I grew to be a fan and collect his movies.

Now...here we go again. Dylan's open letter to the New York Times. I read. I was sickened by it. But part of me wondered...is this true? I am ashamed to doubt her. I am ashamed that it is so hard for me to knock him off of his pedestal. I feel awful for the entire ordeal. I searched the Internet to make myself feel better. "Someone write SOMETHING that makes his untrue!"

I found it here:'
Not So Fast...

Thank God, I felt. Okay...I have another reference point.

But I just keep thinking about it. I saw Rosie on The View and she said something along the lines of how awful it was for Dylan to go through what she did...and then to have the public doubt her...it was worse. My god. I know. Of course it would be.

I had a friend post on my Facebook page the open letter article and she stated that she would NEVER watch another Woody Allen movie.

(big sigh here.)

Here is another article that says, Let's turn a blind eye to this because it's really sucks to think about...

It's none of our business!

Okay...as a mother...I would kill him. I really would. And I am split down the middle here. Part of the reason he may create such great stuff is probably because he is fucked up! Some of the greatest books, movies and poems come from REALLY messed up people. People you probably wouldn't want alone with your children.

So here it is...I love Woody Allen's movies. I love his gift. I am in awe of him. But...yes, there's a lot of things that are not adding up. This poor child--whether she is telling the truth or not--has been through HELL. Let's face it...she is wounded and scarred by what has happened to her. If Mia brainwashed her. If Woody assaulted her. She's a broken person and needs healing. I feel awful for her. There is a dark cloud over Woody now. I can't help it. I HATE IT.


But here's the worst part--and I am partly ashamed of it. I'm not going to stop loving his movies. As a film love and a lover of the written word--good scripts are so hard to come by. They just are. And the film maker who is really looking at human relationships--the light and the horribly dark of it all...and talented in portraying that is hard for me not to watch.

Damn. I'm just sorry about it all. Woody Allen now isn't just love now...it's love and hate. (and I don't even know if he did it...but I have two little girls and I'm tainted now.)

movies.

A quick entry about movies.

My faves this year were Her, Philomena, 12 Years a Slave and The Wolf of Wall Street.

Her-- Perfect script. Beautifully shot. I loved the colors. When I heard him (Jaq's character) talk about the fact that he didn't believe he'd ever feel so in love (with Scarlett...) and feel so deeply--that he was feeling new feelings...when he felt he'd only feel lesser extremes of feelings he'd already felt in his life...(I'm paraphrasing)--man, did I get that. There comes a point when you have to wonder...so, is this it? Is this the greatest amount of love and joy I'm going to have and everything else will just be equal or lesser than this?? Will I ever feel something I've never felt before...again? Wow.

12 Years-- Difficult to watch, but mind blowing for me. I cried, I looked away and I felt pretty much sick afterward. But, I'm glad I went. (And I am glad I was alone.) The amount of pain on every front...the amount of agony and cruelty that people had to endure...it's hard for me not to have profound thoughts about my existence at this point in history.

Philomena--My dad is adopted. I've been researching to find his mother and not being very successful. It's a long, hard process...with lots of road blocks. I loved Judi in this. I find it hopeful and heartbreaking.

The Wolf--Hmmm...a lot of people hated this movie. I loved it for what it was. I loved the performances--crazy as they were. I was on the ride with them. I was in awe of a type of life I would never want. The riches portrayed are ones I have no interest in at all. I'm glad to know that about myself. It's a more is more movie. It's not for everyone...but I loved it.

Oscar picks are coming...

A stepford day.

Some days you just want to go back to bed. You want some one to come take care of your kids and you want to be alone. Some days you're just tired. I want to wake up and have everything done. You want to feel refreshed and happy. You want there to be food on the table that you didn't cook. The groceries bought and everyone just sitting there smiling at you.

It sounds very scary actually. Like a robotic world. right?

Yeah...I know. that's what I want today. 

sadly pathetic. annying.

Well, anxiety is getting the better of me today. And it's anxiety over nothing important. Things that I WANT done aren't getting done and I feel as if I can't keep up. Well, sort of important I guess. Like getting to the gym. I just can't seem to get there. I'm bogged down by house chores and find myself at the end of the day feeling exhausted and defeated. I haven't been in 3 weeks. I feel as if I should just admit defeat and when my trainer returns from his vacation--go in, with my head down and say, "we may be starting from the beginning...but at least I'm here." Unless I have an appt, I don't seem to go at all.

My priorities are off. I feel as if things have to be in their place before I can do anything outside of the house.

I REALLY want to be part of a book club. There are two groups that have invited me. I can't get the books read. If I'm not immediately captured by it, I get bored and move on. Annoying. I do want to be a reader. I'm more of a movie watcher and it makes me feel almost lazy--but it is what it is. However, I don't believe book clubs are meant to cause anxiety. I just want to be around a group of women again. I need a social life!!

Is all this making me sound pathetic?

I'm afraid it is...

The thing is...I want to be a reader and a movie goer. I want to write about them. I want to get letters off to friends. I want my house to be clean. I want my children to feel loved and spend time with them doing art projects and reading books. I want to be a good cook and have every meal planned and perfect. I want to go to the gym! I want to be in close contact with my good friends and check up on their lives so they know I care. I want to be on top of it all. I can't seem to do it. I'm failing in fact. And...the anxiety continues to creep in. 

UV twinkle lights need to be invented.

Look at me. 2 days in a row.

This weekend starts off the Oscar season--which means that I need to get to the movies. Jason sits with the girls while I go and see all my flicks. I don't mind movies alone...and sometimes, I'd rather. Tonight is Wolf of Wall Street. Tomorrow is a double feature of August:Osage County and Inside Llewyn Davis. I can't wait. Jason and I trade for time. He goes on bike rides (even in the cold!) and I see movies. It's a good deal.

Good movies help the winter along. Without them...it would seem just cold and joyless. Not really, but for me, it might. I look forward to Oscar season. I always know the theatres are packed with good films and I know that Dustin is on his way for his annual visit. Having annual get togethers are important. We try to have an annual 4th of July in Lake Placid and the friends and family seem to be growing in attendance for that. I think that as I grow older and my friends are far away with their own families and careers...you have to set aside time. Some aren't so friend-o-centric...but I always have been. My close friends are a part of my family.

The week has been slow going, but it's starting to get better. Last night I sat in bed and felt overwhelmed and tired. The night is the worst for me...in those moments I need to just turn off the light and go to sleep. My heart always feels heavier in the evening and a good night's rest can rejuvenate me for the next day. The day to day gets to me.

Seeing the brightly colored birds in the winter cloaked trees helps a lot. It's a nice spark of color. Hope.

I took the tree down before we left for FL. Today I have to tackle the rest of the decorations. It's a sad day. The comforting glow of lights around the windows at night always made me feel better. I'll just have to light more fires.

YES I HAVE A PROBLEM WITH SEASONAL AFFECTIVE DISORDER!

It's awful.

Deep breath. Put on a mix from 8tracks.com and drink another cup of coffee even though it's horrible for me. whatever works. Harper is sleeping. Z is at school. It's time to be productive.

Still here.

But it's been a while. I felt like my posts were feeling like broken records. SAD grabbed a hold of me and I was a bit negative. Thought maybe I shouldn't throw that into the world. But, I'm back now...medicated and better. HA!

Let's speak to that. I did go on Wellbutrin. Was having trouble sleeping and then was feeling so anxious about it. I went to the doctor and this seemed to be a way of handling it. I tried another medication first and it made me sick. Awful. Anyway, so far so good now.

November and December are some what of a blur. It included a road trip to Orlando. We won't be doing that again for some time. A 1 year old and 4 year old aren't the best road trippers. They were troopers, but it was hard on them. We are working now on sleeping schedules. I depriving them of naps to handle it. Not winning any mom awards lately.

Jason finished is Master's Degree. Thank GOD!!! That just sucked. If anyone is working full time and going to school...they are a wreck and so are you. Sleep deprived and cranky...it is all on you to do the rest. He rocked it and got an A in his last class--without even turning in one of the papers he just couldn't get to. Unreal. He's just like that. It is sort of annoying.

I'm currently in pjs and a robe...my uniform for this week it seems. I've been in it for 2 days. Since being home, the goal is to put the house back in order. Unpacking, laundry, etc. It shouldn't be this hard. Tomorrow, Z goes back to preschool and that will help immensely. Yesterday I was so tired, I walked around in a fog.

So, for the new year...more posts. I won't back away, even if I'm feeling blue and cranky. could be humorous to someone out there.

Happy New Year.

(See, I feel this post is boring, but I'm still posting it!!)