No…not anymore

I had managed to try and distract myself for hours. Just little things…to “keep my mind occupied”. I am not one of those people who am of the belief that you can distract yourself forever…for I know, that it will come back. And yet I also know that when it does…you cannot run from it – for it will pummel you. I so very much desire to move forward, or even a small step sideways, to be happy – I mean to just breathe in the taste of sweet happiness; to surrender to it. But yet, I know…I know it on the deepest level- at the very core of my being, that I will always be waiting for the rug to be pulled out from under me – I will be forever on guard; even as I distract myself with the little things of daily tasks watching the clock as the moments tick by, each hour my heart beating faster and faster, bringing with it the dread of the evening.

My daughter and I were shopping. She was looking for the perfect pink dress to wear to the perfect teenage slumber party. And I was looking for the perfect outfit to to hide my inner fears and anxieties for my own party that seemed in my head might be worse than a teen party. “What about this, mom”, she held up a beautiful sikly cream colored short dress that that did seem perfect and holiday like. Although the party I had agreed to attend was casual, I had no intention of dressing in jeans and a casual oxford shirt. No way, I was going all out. Make-up and boots, satin shiny scarf with gold in it, even new earrings! This dress would be perfect! “I love it!” She found a pink tunic to go with her leggings for her own party and we were on our way.

I dropped her off at her party and made up some additional errands I needed to run before returning home to get ready for my own party. Dread was building as the sun began to set but I knew I couldn’t put it off any longer so I poured more than a glass of wine, wrapped the holiday gifts for the party and headed upstairs to design myself for public.

I had already told my friend who was hosting the party that I would be there, but I was unsure how long I would stay, and she exclaimed, “I’m so happy you’re coming! I’ll take whatever I can get.” Obviously, she still was in the “i’m pretending nothing happened on vacation – and let’s just go back to the way it was before. Not to mention the fact that the woman who screamed at me and put her fist in my face would also be at the party – I was extremely anxious about going, but committed to getting through it – and perhaps falling apart upon my return home. But I knew it was not going to be easy… FOR ME!

I have to say, I did look amazing! In the dress my daughter picked out, my caked on make-up, and layered head-wear and boots. I was super impressed with the job I did putting myself together. Why, if I didn’t know myself better – I would have thought I was not a hot mess! The wine and xanax cocktails helped immensely, I’m sure. And perhaps the fact that I also knew that I was completely alone in this – with literally no one to lean on, count on, or help me through this…well, that might have made it feel worse, but at the same time, I knew it was just me.

I made it a couple of hours before punchy started spewing at the mouth and I didn’t think I could handle being around her any longer, so I decided I had better remove myself from the situation. I went out onto the porch and sat down. My friend followed me, and sat down next to me. After a minute she asked me if I wanted to talk (More than anything, but you won’t hear me anymore, so not wasting my breath). “No,” I replied. So she asked me if I wanted a blanket. “No, please go inside and entertain your guests.” I told her. “Ok, but if you need anything please come find me.” “I don’t need anything.” I said. Other than for her to be honest and respect and defend me as her friend – but she did not.

A few minutes later, my husband came out and I asked him if he was ready to go home. And we left.

My friend still texts me – and I respond to her, respectfully and carefully. But I will not, and cannot act like nothing happened. I will not, and cannot ‘forget and move on’ from that hellish week of vacation It was horrid and she just pretends it didn’t exist – “poof”…and I cannot.

I cannot work through it in therapy because of my fucking trauma-brain and I tried (for the first time in a month) to call the therapist – but of course, she just got angry and said “I’m not talking on the phone – do you want to make an appointment, or not? You have 2 minutes to decide.” Whatever…fuck that…so I hung up. You know what? I just wanted one person to hear me – to speak kindly to me – to fucking acknowledge me! Then I would have maybe been able to get past it and make an appointment. Not now. But apparently, that will only be my xanax and wine. And I have to be ok with that. I was already alone – so this didn’t hurt more. But Its not ok…Im not ok – and its not ok….

Kindness, maybe? 3 minutes… Never mind now…

Sadly, I do not have enough energy for the present. I only can do what is completely essential. Like, tell my kids I love them. The rest of my strength is going and there is a marked decrease in my concentration, which has not been robust anyhow. But now you can distract me with a shiny Christmas ornament.

Which is why there has been no writing. I have not been able to participate in my life now. And my complaints are corroding my sense of propriety. That’s the part that makes me wince. At myself.

My immunity is low. My night sweats are immense. My lymph nodes in my chest enormous.

And I want to bite everyone. Like that kid in the wolf suit from ‘Where the Wild things are’. I’m like a child again. In many ways. And I miss my grandmother. More battered than Greasy fish and chips from the local cafe, I have just enough energy to see my children off to school before returning to my bed.

Now I’m feeling more conflicted than an ovulating stripper, as I have pulled myself away into the darkness of the shadows of my mind, where all my phantom fears are making star appearances. I am bleeding everywhere and all I can do is be still and watch. There is no coping in the face of such pain and loss. There is simply existing in the loneliness and intemperate pain and praying it will pass.

I am raw and hurt and broken. And after a month of silence, I reached out hoping for three minutes, but received only anger and “what do you want from me? In response to my questions. Kindness, an accepting heart, maybe, “I see you and I know you are scared.” None of which I found. I wasn’t actually surprised, just very very sad. And even more alone. But alas that has been the feeling for a month… So I’m stripped. Down to being with only myself.

But I have no energy… I’ve no one to discuss the horrible horrible traumatizing week of Vacation that my friend wants to just pretend didn’t even happen and move on. However I am stuck in a state of trauma and bitterness. She believes the third party was defending her, I believe I was virtually attacked. Wars are created when both sides believe their own stories. The healing process begins when both sides see that the other side believes their own stories. In this ongoing struggle, I can’t fathom the motive.

Once again, I am physically ill with a battle I cannot win. I’m mustering all my marrow but I do not know why. What have I done to provoke the confrontation in my marrow, what’s the grievance? It is alchemy. I surrender and peel open my bone. I miss my grandmother.

I’m all out of life jackets

I have been trying to work through the mess that is my head now – but unfortunately as I try to sift through a piece of the confusion, the tide once again rolls in and more seaweed and pieces of shell pile on top of the mess I’m trying to sift through and it becomes even more of a mess and I’m not just back at square one, but stuck in an even bigger mess.  It makes me want to throw my hands up and scream WTF- MAN! Can I catch a break?  And you just hold off on the tide?  Can I breathe for a minute? Get this shit straightened out, pull out the pieces I need to salvage and you can take the rest out to sea, and then bring me another small mess and I’ll work on that?  But I guess it doesn’t work that way, does it?  The sun rises and sets every single day, and with it the tide rolls in, and the tide rolls back out…. bringing what it brings – whether you are ready for it, or not – here it is!  Sadly, I cannot work any faster – so I’m sort of at a loss and find myself just sitting in the middle of all of it; the sand, the seaweed, the jelly fish stinging me as they wash ashore – I just have to take it, and hide the tears.  I cannot stop it – I cannot prepare myself for the stinging to hurt less – it burns like fire!  At moments before the tide I try to salvage some small treasures and hold them tight, but many times, not tight enough, because the current is strong and the tide pulls them away from me, out into the open sea, and leaves nothing but razor sharp shards of broken shell in their place.   This is the ugliness of the once warm beach I found myself on for a place of refuge.

After a hellish vacation that I knew I was unprepared for emotionally, I once again returned home sick and drained, just trying to hold on, hoping that once the tide rolled out, and the waves settled, I would begin to see things more clearly.  Unfortunately, there have been some additional circumstances that have played out, both in my life, and in my friend’s life (specifically, her children s lives) that have prevented either of us from sitting on the beach for any extended period of time to just listen to the waves and the sound of the beach bring a sense of calm, as it used to do, and rather now, it feels more of a torrential hurricane, with neither of us able to throw the other a buoy, or a life jacket.

The story of her life is not mine to tell, however, I know for me personally, I am trying desperately, to put some things behind me from the trip, and yet when I try, she is unable to speak of them.  Seeing this does give me further insight into other relationships in her life, yet it also frustrates me, as I find myself stuck in this place of not being able to move forward because of her inability to discuss any of it.  And yet I know she is also frustrated with my wanting to talk about it, as she finds this too confrontational and she does not handle anything this way.  Ah, a major crossroads.

And there have been some additional personal issues that have plagued her life (via her children) that have, in a sense, basically grounded her to her home as though she has a toddler at home.  So this has prevented me from seeing her as she is basically rocking her 14 year old, who is unable to be left alone now.  I realize that is vague, but that is all I can say now.  This has left me somewhat angry and sad.  Sad because my friend will say “I really want to do lunch, and then cancel and reschedule due to above child not being able to be alone, and not having a plan b, or plan b falling through.   The one time we did have lunch she spent the majority of the time following up on one child that she thought was lying to her and the above child having a constant panic attack.  It was super fun.

Then she forgot about some important tests I was having, which she never would have done before.  A day later she asked about them – but I was angry and ignored her texts until I could talk myself into trying to understand this was not her fault…  She has also used a couple of “therapy” phrases on me – which chapped my ass and I flat out told her not to say.  To which she replied, she would not say them, but unlike a therapist, she means them.  What the fuck does that mean?

I think I’m having a problem right now differentiating my feelings of the child part of me who is pissed that she’s there for her kids and now she isn’t there for me as my best friend when she used to always be here for me (even though I do NOT agree with her parenting and rescuing her nearly adult children from every single situation – every single time) and just annoyance that she will text me with every single issue but now doesn’t ask about me.  I don’t know… but I’m personally in the shit-house now, too, and I have lost my main support – and it really sucks!

So I have crawled into a great big hole and I can’t seem to get back out.  I can’t talk to her about anything – so I just answer her texts in short one or two word responses.  My physical health sucks, my mental health sucks.  I never want to leave my house – literally – ever….I have to go to the doctor – so I plan anything I have to do around that.   I have turned down social engagements with my other friends this week because I just don’t feel like being social…. like, at all.  I do’t feel like showering or getting dressed.  I barely interact with the dogs.   I’m really trying to fake it….but that feels like climbing mount everest – honestly.

The holidays are hard enough…throw all of this other shit on top and I just don’t know how to deal so I’ve just shut down.

please don’t say reach out…there is nothing to reach out to -

It’s so hard sometimes

So I’m just going to come out and say I’ve been really hurting lately. Not just grieving, but hurting overall… My heart has felt a bit like a wrecking ball the past few weeks. But I’m still here. I’m sad on 50 different levels, but acknowledging where I’m not and where I want to be helps me find direction to where I could go, instead of pining over paths I can’t take for whatever reason. The fact that I allow myself to hurt is what qualifies me to share, because if anyone is owed a fucking break it’s us- and the breaks don’t come. The karma scale doesn’t tip that way.

Sometimes, I get caught in my own head, thinking “I have been through hell and I will claw my way back with a vengeance!” only to realize that on most days I’m still here and I just have to sit with it and burn- I was thinking I could hold my awareness like an invincibility shield, but it just burns, too. So there it is. My heart is on fire and it fucking feels like it. And now I wrote about it and now you know. And I’m not sure what to do, what the answer is…so I’ve really just shut down

I wish I could explain to people that we can’t be positive and smiling all of the time. It just gets overwhelming and tiring to hold it all together and like a tea kettle, we will eventually explode. Things have just been extremely difficult for me to handle right now. The feelings of anger and frustration have made me unfocused and unstable. I find it impossible to pull myself out of these places and I cry all the time. No one can say the right thing to me so I spend my time building walls to keep everyone out, since “they won’t understand” anyway. Yet no one knows how much I’m struggling. Or perhaps they don’t care.

I don’t know where to go from here.

The only way out is through

IMG_7158.JPG

I really don’t think you can move past something until you work through it.
Isn’t the only way out “through”?
The let’s pretend nothing happened… That was just a mirage in the desert- because that’s exactly how people watch the news, see racism, abuse, and everything else that isn’t “acceptable” in society… They pretend it doesn’t exist- and I can’t live like that anymore.

I’m sorry, but I can’t. Life is messy sometimes- but you have to face it, walk through it, otherwise aren’t you doomed to repeat the same shit over and over and over? Sometimes even when you tear it apart, you still do! But maybe some people either like the chaos, or lack the courage… Im not sure- maybe it’s both.

This is why I don’t trust people. This is the exact reason.

Paradise Lost

Less than a week before leaving for the Island, I sat across from my best friend in the small coffee shop in an attempt to explain just how fucked up my head was. We sat in silence as time seemed to stand still, sipping preppy pumpkin spice latte’s and staring out at the first snowfall of the season. The snow was so lovely, soft and white and I thought that it always it felt unassuming and innocent. And for a brief snippet of time, as I watched the snow fall outside the coffee shop window, I focused only on the innocent white flakes and I forgot about feeling so crazy. But just as quickly, I remembered, and the snow is only beautiful when it’s white and pure. Once the flakes gather on the ground, people stomp on them, animals pee on them, cars drive over them, everyone ignoring their pureness of their beauty; it all becomes so tainted and ugly, just like the inside of my head.
“G – G!” I looked up and M was giving me the ‘I’m concerned, what’s going on’ look.
I looked at my best friend and smiled, “I was just thinking about how beautiful the snow looks today, the fluffy flakes falling. You know, A always says no two flakes are alike!” I tried to sound enthusiastic, and wondered if I was pulling it off.
M’s eyes looked like mahogany against window of white, they were deep and brown, yet soft and comforting, and looking in her eyes made me wonder if wood could feel. “Yes, it’s snowy and cold here, but in a week, we will be living in paradise on a tropical island!” M said. She was smiling and speaking heartily about our upcoming vacation but her eyes held a sadness she had yet to speak of today. I thought maybe it was sacrilegious to be sad while drinking anything with ‘pumpkin spice’ in it. I mean, come on, you’ve seen the commercials. And I looked down into my mug of warm swirling milk and frothiness and willed myself to be happy. It wasn’t working. Dammit!
I looked up at M, “I don’t know if I can do it this year, M.” My eyes filling with tears, I quickly looked away to focus again on the snow. I will not cry in public, I will not cry in public, I will not cry in public, I will not cry in public, I chanted over and over in my head, trying to quiet the child voice inside of me screaming, “IT IS NOT SAFE!” Just breathe, I told myself, you are not a child, you are a grown woman, you are 43 years old, and you can do this, I lectured myself silently. You are being ridiculous! You should be embarrassed and ashamed of yourself for behaving this way. I am, replied a younger G to the lecture.
M, always the more kindhearted and empathetic of the two women, reached her arms across the table and took my small child-like hands in her own, “I know you are afraid right now, G.  And I guarantee you there is nothing to be afraid of.  I want you to go on this trip. We’ve planned it for a year, we had such a great time last year. I think once we all get to The Island, you’ll feel differently, it will all be fine. We’ll have a magnificent time, just like last year.”
“I don’t know, M,” I looked at my friend, but now it felt like I was looking at both myself and M from above the table at the small coffee shop. “I sure hope you’re right.” Why did my voice suddenly sound robotic? “I can’t really back out now, can I? The hus would be pissed as hell. The trip is already paid for.” I could see that I was smiling but I couldn’t feel myself in my body anymore. “The snow is so gorgeous, don’t you think, M? But I just hate the bitter cold. And driving in it! I know I’m a shitty driver anyway, but I just get such anxiety driving in the snow. I don’t know how the hus drives makes that commute every day. And in all that traffic. I couldn’t do it!”
“I couldn’t either.” M nodded in agreement with her friend.

But the fear is inside of me.  The prey and the hunted are all inside…this trip is not going to go well.  I know it and you know it.  And yet now one speaks of it…