Thursday, January 28, 2016

thoughts of the right now...

Overwhelmed. That was the feeling I had yesterday. Walking into my house that had a mess in almost every room. Messes made my the girls...Jason. Blankets all over the couch that they cuddled in. The dishes all over the kitchen that we all ate on and talked about our day. Clean clothes that I didn't get put lucky they are to have so many. I thinned out the toys and the books. I need to thin out so much more. We have too much. It's embarrassing to me. At one time I could survive a week with 20 bucks. My car only needed 10 to get to my job and back and the rest went to bread and milk. I had pb and jelly at home. I dressed in the clothes that I had packed. I didn't buy new ones. I read the books I had. I wrote in whatever I had. Granted, it was a confusing time and I didn't have children...but it is horrible consumerism that took over my life. I sit here drinking Starbucks...the one I frequent to get out of my house and write. I enjoy the coffee and the people. I like that I know the baristas. Everyone one around me is either talking to someone very passionately...or two guys laid back and laughing. One man is like me...he is plugged into headphones and is banging away on his laptop with a very serious face. My face is more happy than anything. Curious. Wanting to take it all in. Life goes on no matter what you do at home. In the end, having everything just so doesn't matter.

I'm a writer because I write. I listened to a book about children yesterday--The Gift of Failure. Lisa recommeneded to me and it's blown my mind. But one point it made was if you over praise a child for a certain gift, say writing, the child will develope a fear or have anxiety about writing something that people will not like and that will make you average again. had a gift.  A gift that you need to just dive into and do-------------and I'm so afraid to fail.

This morning around 1, I was up because I went to bed around 9. Z was in my bed and I wanted to sleep next to I was exhausted--anyway, I found 2 playwriting seminar/ workshops that I was interested in.  If I complete something, I could get it to Geva and they could read it. I could have my work on stage. It is in me. I need to let it loose. I just need to know the basics. I think I'll dive in. At least I can say I tried...I will regret it if I don't.

Tuesday, January 26, 2016

Just me....writing in Starbucks...

So, it's just me now. No class prompt to help me write...just do it. If you are a writer, then you just do it. I'm a writer. A scared one. A hesitant one. An unpublished one. But a writer, indeed. It's because I have to write it all down...I can't wait to write down my thoughts. I see something happen and I think...damn, I need to write that down. Like the other day. Harper was at the table eating Pirate Booty as her snack. I was doing the dishes.
Hey Mom...
Remember when I threw water at you...
Yes...but you said you were sorry.
It still wasn't nice...
It's okay.

I go back to the dishes.
Hey mom.
Yes Harper
You always make your daughters happy.

I melted a bit. I told her that that was a really nice thing to say and that I appreciate it. We have our moments when we aren't happy...when I get upset.

Yeah...but it's because we didn't listen.

I'm reading a book--The Gift of Failure. Listening to it rather....and it's great.
I'm doing so many things wrong...but I do a lot right according to the book.
Another parenting book.
I don't seem to feel my "gut"...I need to find it.

"She Thinks" is the prompt...Farewell Dillon's

10 minute writing prompt for class...we are not allowed to stop, correct or anything, just keep writing no matter where it takes. you.

"she thinks"

She thinks the world would be better without facebook...and twitter. I enjoy the internet, but no one really talks anymore. I'm a talker. More one on one, but if I'm comfortable,a group is fine. Letters are nice. I sent one last week. How many people still do that?  I want to get letters. I miss the paper in my hands and knowing their handwriting. I can still see the handwriting of my friends in my head. Does anyone take notice of it now? As a kid, I incorporated it with their personality was a part of them...just as knowing what their voice sounded like. I miss phone calls. Texting is great at times, but a quick call...just to hear how the other person is...if I hear stress or if they sound just can't tell in email. They may be struggling with so many things. With my old friends, I can tell by their voice when they are covering how they feel. But I have to hear it. I used to love to watch my dad and mom sign their names on checks. My dad was a judge for 30 years...I watched him sign a lot. I used to practice their signatures. I never thought of using it when I shouldn't, I just wanted to see if I could do it. I think it's great that we can all live where we want to live, but I do see how moving out of a community, especially in Kansas, can affect if the town will continue to thrive or not. My little town of St. John, Kansas, population 1100, just learned that their town grocery store, Dillon's, is closing within 2 weeks. There will no longer be a grocery store...I am so shocked and saddened by this, still. I have so many memories there. I used to sneak out of music class in 7th grade to buy cookie dough (you know, the ones in the tube) and go back so that my friend, Erica and I could eat it. The store clerks knew I shouldn't be there...but they never said a word. Everyone that worked there graduated from the same school. My mom taught there for 40 years. My friends parents were either teachers, farmers, lawyers (there were only 3 practices I think) or worked in the court house. Being the judges daughter had perks...I never got a speeding ticket. But I only got pulled over a couple of times...I didn't abuse it. I never used my parents' city stature to better my situation...I was just proud. They still live in St. John...not together, but still there. My older sister and her family are there. But a lot of my friends' parents moved to the area their children settled. There used to be more the 50s and 60s, you stayed there after you graduated. You were part of the community. Only a couple of my classmates are there. I graduated with 23 others. And the town square, where all the businesses were...lining the streets with the town park in center...with a fountain...and enclosed by cement wall...a square. There was parking all along it...and at night we would cruise it...we would stop at Dillon's and get a pop and junk to eat. My dad went every day. He never over bought...he just got what they needed for a day or two. He and his wife are very concise. I would walk in with Dad and everyone would say, "Hi judge!" He didn't act like he was any better...he mostly liked to fish and talked about it with the people we ran into. My mom always sent me to the store with a check she'd signed. The store was a staple in my childhood. It's a staple for our community. The elderly will struggle to get groceries. The nearest grocery store is 25 miles in a much bigger town...with lined streets and stop lights. We don't have those things. It was great. But it seems this could cause it to be more like a ghost town. Slowly things are leaving. Most of the businesses are empty around the square. It's so depressing to go there. And now, to go home and not see Dillon' heart is broken.

Tuesday, January 19, 2016

I'm afraid

I'm taking a writing class and my prompt is:
 I'm afraid.

10 mins of writing...starting

I am afraid of being afraid of so many things. I have anxiety every single day. It used to be chest crushing, but it eased with medication. I've been a victim of my emotions for a long time. I hate the word victim, but I strive not to be that in almost every way. In order to not fall victim to my anger and irritability that seems to have made a permanent home inside...I take meds. I've been on some type of meds for 20 years. Even that makes me sound a little nutty...or that I'm seeking happiness through pills instead of doing the work myself. I've been in therapy for longer. Therapy helps. But it seems I come by it naturally--the anxiety, depression and the adult ADHD. STIGMA word!!! Yep...that's the one I normally don't come out with. It sounds made up. It sounds like I have a doc that just wants to sell me something. After being off all medication for 4 years to have my children...I thought I'd beaten it. I thought I had somehow been tricked the entire time and that nothing was really wrong with me. But even in the first year of my oldest, I felt the darkness slip in. Anger came with it at times...well, more aggravation. I would be frustrated with her...a baby. I would take her and put her in her crib to be safe and then go take a bath and calm down. She was never in danger with me...but I was then questioning my skills...or whether I could do this. Some days were great. Other days, I was just everything. We head another baby. Thank goodness for her. Zoe needed a sister and she is the best older sister to her. When I yelled too loud at Z one day, I sought help the next. My doc met with me 3 separate times for an hour each time. She didn't want any background information on my medications or diagnosis. She told me she thought I had ADHD and that I'd probably had it my entire life. I'd been diagnosed with bipolar disorder and had been taking those meds--I lost my twenties pretty much. The coctail I took made me a zombie and I had no short term memory. This cost me a job and made me feel as if I was pretty useless. I thought about high school and then all fit. I sat in her office and cried about the life I'd lost. I felt robbed. I could never understand why other people seemed to have their life together and I didn't. I knew I was bright enough to get it together...but I couldn't figure it out. I always had a job...I paid my bills...but my emotions were whacky and it made me an interesting friend at times.

But now, when I take my meds, the anxiety starts to taper. The overwhelming feeling goes away. Life looks completely doable and I am zen. I have patience with my girls. I'm not climbing the walls anymore. Now, I have my days. Like this one. I'm overwhelmed at all there is to do in this damn house. I'm doing a purge project in order to have less stuff and less stress. So far, so good--but there is much to do. And I wish I had someone who could sit across from me and hold my hands and tell me that it's all going to be okay. Everything will get done. They will help me and we will have fun doing it. It's not exactly my husband, but he'd do. It's more of a female feel...a nurturing soul...someone maternal...or just one of my dear friends. I chose to move away from all of them. I worry that I'll be sucked into their lives and won't have my own...I love feeling needed. I crave it. It makes me feel worthy. Wow...I have so many therapy sessions to go.