Wednesday, December 15, 2010

Facing up to my lies

It's time. It's past time. I've run from my blog again, and we all know that means something not good. I don't hide from myself that way unless things are not going well. And oh my darlings, have I been hiding from myself.

I re-read this blog right before I started to type this post and what a LIAR I am. It's sick how many lies I have told. Did I start listening to more music? Yes I did, I'm playing Florence and the Machine right now. I put in my Ipod shuffle to sleep, or put a cd on repeat all night and you know what? Still no sleep. I hardly sleep in my own bed anymore, the anxiety is too high. I am on the couch most of the time, usually with Buffy or some stupid movie playing to try to put me to rest, in the silence its just me and my brain and then my heart is there, pounding in my ears, and the heat is prickling my body and my breath is going out of me and then I am alone in the dark trying to fight off a panic attack. The attacks I said I wasn't going to fight, the attacks I said I would accept and become the master of... lies.

I fight them so hard. And it does no good. Its been weeks since I have left my house, and I still blow off my friends. I talk to people online, or sometimes the phone, but many times I just let it ring and never answer.

We had a couple of weeks with no net and no phone due to finances, and I felt like I was losing my mind having no contact with the outside world, and then I started to accept it, and let go of the world. That scared me even more then the idea of having multiple panic attacks each day. And oh yes, its gone there again. Hours long, I think its over, and then no, a new one springs up fresh and I spend 3 more hours in pain and fear and misery.

I lie to myself every day. I say, This Too Shall Pass. They WILL find a way to fix this mental disease that flays my mind and soul for its own amusement. My life IS NOT going to be lived this way.

But then I wake up in the middle of the night with my brain itching, a million thoughts flipping through like the worlds fastest and least coherent slide show, and my heart feeling like my skin wont be enough to keep it in my chest, and I know deep down that while I am fumbling around to swallow that pill, race to the bathroom, curl up into a ball and shake, believe that I will not swallow my tongue, and start the chanting in my head of I will be ok, that I lie.

I look at myself in the mirror and I see the lies, they sit there heavy on my face, shadows in my eyes that look like fear, and I push them back, put on some blush, and go back to my safe spot on the couch that doesn't judge me for all the lies I am going to tell myself today.

Tuesday, June 22, 2010

Bittersweet Emotion

Why does self reflection have to be so painful? The ultimate goal as a human, as far as I can figure, is to grow and change and evolve into something better, someone better and yet in order to do this, as a species and as individuals we must suffer.

These last few weeks I have been suffering.

Now I know, I REALLY know, there are people in this world who live in terrible, torture like suffering every day and my personal experience with the word suffering doesn't compare in any way and for that I am a big whiner. I know it. My suffering is not the stuff of legends, it won't be written about in a history book, and not many people really care one way or the other about the personal things I am feeling, or my growing pains to become a better person in this world.

Yet still, for me, it is very real and something I am dealing with at this point in my life. This very strange, completely foreign, and painful time in my life.

Its been almost a month now that I have been sick, with some nasty lung infection stuff and I feel like I am choking or being suffocated nearly all time because when you combine that with asthma and humid weather, well its misery. Add a power outage to that, for 3 days, and air you could slice like cake and you have one struggling for air, very unhappy girl. My ribs, neck and back are all bruised from the coughing and struggle for air. Yes I am on antibiotics, almost done with them, did steroid treatment, double up on the asthma meds, plus using the emergency inhaler daily, many times, and still no air.

Now, mix that in with my panic disorder. Oh yeah. It really has been a joy. During the blackout I was having serious issues. No phone or lights or fans or a/c or cold drinks, no food at all actually since everything went rotten, and it gave me a lot of time to sit alone in the dark and think about just how much I rely on power and technology to help me manage this disorder.

It also gave me days of empty time to think about what my life has become, who I have become, and who I want to become. Yes I realize this has been the major theme of my return to blogging but this is the thing, its what is happening with me, and to me and around me NOW. Its all thats happening. My children are getting ready to leave home, I am not in a relationship (which is something I have almost always been in) I dont have a job (something else I always had) and now I feel like I dont have a purpose more then ever.

When I was out getting some things for the house during the big black out, Sweet Emotion came on the radio. Normally whenever Aerosmith comes on I change it because that was Tea's favorite band in the whole world, and I watched her dance to their music so many times I cant stop the flood of images of her from filling up my head and its just painful. Yes, creeping up on nearly a decade since she has passed on, and those memories still hurt. I still dream of her, of saving her from herself, or just spending time together at her house, but watching her dancing in my mind really hurts the most because it was when she was most free.

She died before she reached my age. I have let sickness nearly kill me. She would be so dissapointed in me. I am so dissapointed in me.

I thought about it a lot. I listened to that song play, and I watched her dance in my head and I came home and just thought. Things can still lay me so low, these attacks that run over me and take over my head and pull me into horrible dark places still have such power over me when I dont want them to, I fight them, I tell my brain NO NO NO so loud, its like it sneaks in and rapes my thoughts and my body. It does things to me that I dont want to happen, that I physically struggle against and yet, they come.

My whole life I have had fears of rejection, but when I was young I ignored them and just did anything I felt I needed to do for my life and stomped on everything or anyone that stood in the way of my goals. Since becoming sick, I started listening to those fears. People wont want me, im not good enough, im not smart enough, pretty enough, skinny enough, just enough of anything. I am lacking. Even re-reading that makes me sick. Makes me want to slap myself. When I was 20 I would of said, fuck that. You can do anything, just show em. SHOW THEM.

So I am sick, I cant take full breaths, I still dont have this fucking disease in my brain under control, and I am not 20. But I am also not dead. People I loved are missing from my life now, and yet they have moved on and evolved more then I have in some ways.

I need to show them. I need to just fuck the fear, face the fear, suck the fear in, and turn it out on its ass and show it. I need to embrace this changing in my life, my head, and let it come over me. Im not going to fight the attacks anymore, Im going to let them take me and ride them out and live anyway. Im not going to fear rejection I am going to say, fuck you if you dont like me, fuck you if you dont want me because I am fucking good enough. At times I am fucking awesome. And Im not dead.

Im here to show the world Im alive, Im evolving, and im done suffering. Fuck you universe, you arent the boss of me.

Saturday, June 12, 2010

Filling up my soul when it's running on E

This will come as no shock to anyone that has spent any amount of time with me over the past few years when I say that I have been empty. Running pretty damn near close to it at least, sputtering along on fumes and missing huge parts of myself. I know old friends can see it when I show up on their doorstep, if I show up, because everyone is always asking me if I am ok. And the thing is, No. No I haven't been ok.

Searching for the root of this whole "not ok vibe" has been a long running chore at this point, I feel like a kid playing a video game, pumping in quarter after quarter but never able to reach that end level because some motherfucker ganked the game up so you can't ever get to the final end battle. Bastard. I will say that again, Bastards.

So I have really been doing this soul searching, self exploration, learning and listening, chose your own ending, adventure story ever since I got out of the hospital. Those 6 days ticked by so slowly but I think I actually absorbed quite a bit of what I needed to, besides just changing my medications. I dare to say it was actually productive, unlike my previous hospital stay which was just a cluster fuck of bullshit. People, the answer has always been RIGHT HERE, THISCLOSETOMYFACE, from the very start.

Yes I was losing my shit before I quit my job, but only to a certain extent. There was still a lot of my shit right where it was supposed to be, I still had the "Me-ness" that people recognized. But ooooo.. when I left... spiral out. keep going. It was a slow burn out, I lost more and more of me and have continued to do so ever since. So what was it? The clothes? The people? The bossy being in charge? The money? No. No. No. No. Well I do love the clothes, but still No.

The music. PEOPLE! The music went away. Not only did I stop listening to music around the house but I wasnt spending 12 hours a day with it blasting all about me. Even the stuff I hated, the songs I heard so many times I wanted to cry when they came on (Come on ride the train) was gone. And so was my disposable income, or my mental capacity, to go to concerts. I stopped going out to clubs to dance just for the shear joy of dancing, I stopped going to visit my friends at work at other clubs, I just stopped.

This is so obvious. Anyone who has seen me after a live show knows the euphoric state in which I wander for hours, sometimes days after. All of my friends are people who are passionate about music. People who play, record, DJ, dance, or just love it and feel moved by it and need it to get by the same way I do.

And yet my listening dropped. Plummeted.My static brain and the waves of mental breakdown took the place of the notes, the words and the throbbing beat that I need to feel moving through me to live.

Yes, to live. I need music to live. Like Tinkerbell needs you to clap for her, like fish need bicycles, like monkeys need to fling poo at zoo visitors. I need it for my mental health, my physical well being and my HAPPY.

One good live show, say Puscifer in Chicago this past winter with my son, keeps me fed for a few months, but I still need snacks! I need to crank it up on the tv, the computer, the Ipod and not just at the gym. In the car, in the kitchen, in my bedroom there needs to be music.

I have been playing music almost constantly since coming home from the hospital. Its always running in the background somewhere. I have it in my purse where ever I go, in my shiny little pink Ipod that I can pop out at a moments notice and start refueling my brain and body.

And this means that for me to really be me again, to really be healthy and turn my back on all this sickness and the mistakes and the shame that has become my life... I have to go back to work with the music. I need to keep going to the gym until I am in the shape I want to be in and then I need to go back into one of those dark seedy bars and spend hours and hours surrounded by music again.

I need to step back into the shoes of who I was for so long. And use that to become the new me. Propel myself with this reclaiming of the old me, my old job, my old work, and use that to push myself into the new me, the new job and the new work I want to accomplish. I dont want to work in a bar forever, popping beer tops and wiping down tables. Or stretching myself across the cool floor of the stage and spinning around the shiny pole. No. Obviously that is silly, you simply CANT do that forever and to not want more is to not grow into someone new and better.

But right now, I have been so empty, so not me, that it is EXACTLY what I need to become me again and then blossom into a whole new, 2.0 version of me. To get myself back into school, to learn a new line of work and to keep this part of me intact and whole once again.

And when I leave that place again, this time I will be strong. I wont be running from the job, from illness, from myself. I will be walking with great purpose and determination into a new future that I want with all my heart, and my filled up soul.

And the music will never again stop around me. In my home, in my car, in my head, I will keep it going round and round, so the energy that is me never tries to curl up and die again.


There is no other way for me to end this post then with the song that means the most to me, and touches me like no other song in my life has done. This is the song that I feel like captures me, who I am, was, will be forevermore. It lifts me to a point of elation when I hear it and when I was surrounded by it during 2 amazing live shows I felt reborn each time.

Monday, June 7, 2010

Can you have writers block for your second post?

I have such an abundance of topics and issues and little bits of fluff rolling about in my head that I honestly dont know where to start. And this little cursor blinking at me doesnt seem to be helping.

In October it will be two years that I have been living in this apartment with my children and technically a single girl. I have mixed feelings on this.

I currently dont have a deep, meaningful relationship and can honestly say I do not think there is anyone "in love" with me. Also with the mixed feelings.

Both my kids are now legally adults, however they are still doing dumb ass stuff. That I understand because I am legally an adult and I do a lot of dumb ass stuff. So my love for them has not changed but sometimes my annoyance level is higher because OMFG arent you old enough to NOT DO that dumb ass stuff? Move on to NEW, BIGGER, MORE ALL CAPS REQUIRED DUMB ASS STUFF, like me.

Actually, they have both done some all caps required dumb ass stuff, but I dont feel like getting into that just yet.

I ate a handful of mini marshmallows for breakfast. Is that wrong?

Friday, June 4, 2010

Losing my voice

Well hello again my old friend. It has been quite some time since I tapped on these keys and watched my words form on this blank screen in front of me. And as usual I have no idea exactly what I intend to say until I see it come out of my finger tips.

I have lost my voice.

I used to have one, loud and strong and like a lions roar. As of late it seems to sound more like one of those cheap tapes you would get as a kid and record things off of the radio or some record and then rewind and record on top of it again, over and over until when you finally press play its so garbled and weak and has so many voices over the top of it that you aren't even sure what you are hearing anymore.

Also I have laryngitis right now so I literally have no voice with which to speak these days.

For some time now I have been pondering the thought, the general notion of coming back to these familiar stomping grounds and letting my voice back out. This place of freedom, of naked blogging, soul baring and brazen and totally unrestrained. The problem is I have felt restrained. In the last few years I have left many things go unsaid and bottled them up and just let things go on the way they seemed to want to go.

Pieces of those feelings are all from different places. Some people that I didn't care to know found my blog, some things I didn't want to talk about. I have done things that I was ashamed of for the first time in my life. Shame is not an emotion I am very comfortable with and it doesn't look good on me. It's almost as bad as putting on a bright yellow dress and running around yelling LOOK AT ME!! And if you know me at all, you know I don't like yellow and it would look horrible on me to boot.

I think its way, WAY past time for me to take that yellow dress off. Its time for me to find my roar. I have always been the one to put someone else in the restraints and its high time I took them off of myself, they are starting to chafe.

Hello me, its me again and I am coming home, we have been lost for far too long, quiet until we heard the pin drop and wrapped up in too many layers. Lets have some fun together and be naked again.