A Portrait of Me Drowning in My Own Thoughts

Press play. Really, it's what you should do anytime you read something I wrote that has a song attached but who am I to tell you how to live your life when I am not quite living my own. Jesus, that was a little over-dramatic. I am fine. I just worry that I don't remember what that really looks like or feels like so I question whether I really am or not.

The other night I randomly clicked around YouTube, saving songs that might make good future posts. This one started it. I don't know if you know or if you even care but YouTube will create mix suggestions based on your watch history. I enjoy it most days. Lately, there are a few that just keep turning up and it makes no sense really. This is one of them. I would understand if it were one of the songs that play over and over and over again. I would understand if I had huge Smashing Pumpkins-themed playlist. I would understand if YouTube knew that this song is someone's ringtone (and wouldn't it be creepy as hell if YouTube knew that!)

The thing about me being who I am and where I am and the realizations about my broken bits and wanting to be better... know I said I am fine and I really am, but I am not better. I am having enormous trust issues and to be fair maybe a little bit of paranoia. Working through shit makes you seem and feel legitimately crazy sometimes and maybe I am hyper-cautious, overly vigilant. I don't know. I have no good adjectives to describe how I feel my trajectory through life is going.

Spinning. Unsure. Unmotivated.

I floated about the pool this evening. I had forgotten how much I enjoyed that. No raft or device or such nonsense, just me and the water. The sound of my own breathing drowning the muffled voices of the kids playing. The clouds are particularly wispy tonight. Yesterday the sky was you, and I still feel the same. Nothing left for me to do, and I still feel the same. I just kept drifting about the deep end wondering if I were really drowning would the sound of my breathing be so pronounced to me.

I don't know what to do about anything. I am so far from overwhelm lately but truth be told, it is possible to drown on teaspoon of water.

First Day of the Rest of My Life: Take 14,524

As I start this, it must be the right thing to do because Matthew West's "Day One" is playing on the radio right now.

Day one. 

No day before.

Clean slate.

The beginning.

It's late evening as I write this but that's because that is the time I have available to write. I have never been much of a conformist and the older I get the more I see the complete illusion that is calculated time. Shrug. Call me a weirdo. It's okay, I am totally fine with that. 

Lamentations 3:23-24, that's the whole His mercies are new every day thing. Sigh, but in full disclosure...I struggle with this and the idea of hope these days. Shrug. At some point, in a relentless beating, you just give up and shut down. 

That feels awful to type but it is so totally how I feel right now! 

I keep hearing that the opposite of faith is not doubt, but worry. The first time I heard that it was comforting because I have really been wrestling with well, anything and everything. 

Why wouldn't I be? 

My husband left me for a woman who somehow despite working in the women's studies department at the local state university and having done some work she feels worthy of noting involving Christianity...well, she seems to fail to recognize or even implicate herself in the ongoing financial abuse or any of the past verbal, mental, emotional or physical abuse. Plus, she has totally ruined the Beastie Boys for me because now when I hear the lines,"And beatnik chicks just wearing their smocks/ Walking high and mighty like she's #1 and /She thinks she's the passionate one." I for whatever reason think of her. But I digress...

Where was I. Oh, yeah...my husband left me. It's been almost two years. I am still in disbelief. How can a man who says that you are his whole world and that he is so grateful that God gave me to him suddenly decide that livestock makes a better romantic alternative? In my best Church Lady voice,"Hmmmm, could it be Satan?" Damn Skippy.

When all of this broke, I hit my knees and then hit the pavement and came up short. No better job, no better income, and a whole mess of other issues that have me very much fully doubting just about everything. I mean everything! As I sit here on my patio typing this, I am gonna lose this house. I have tried and tried to get more income, to get support on paper, pray, plead, hope, wish. Nothing. I love my little house. And stupidly, part of the reason I love it is because my husband worked so hard and without complaint to get us here. Wanna see the view from here? 

Okay, so the webcam takes a horrible picture. There is so much peace in this backyard. That right corner where it's all bushy should be a vegetable garden but all the rain and lack of time for weeding and um, my love of morning glories has lead to this abomination. You can't see the apple tree or the fire pit or any of the memories of all the good times in this backyard or how absolutely gorgeous the sky is tonight.

I don't know what I am supposed to do with myself. Yeah, pretty much you would not be wrong to queue up that White Stripes song of a similar name. I didn't need him when I met him or have any weird issue that made me make poor decisions. He was in my life because I wanted him and not just haphazardly, willy nilly. Fuck. (Sorry.) That's what makes this all the harder. I didn't enter into this half-cocked or aimlessly trying to fulfill some need. I repeatedly put him off. I was good in my condo with my daughter and all my friends. Something though said give him a chance.

Famous last words.

Seriously.

He just dropped our son off and he treats me like some two-bit whore he never gave two shits about. Dropped some money on the table on the porch and does not acknowledge me. It's pretty unnerving.

Anyway...

Where was I?

I am not even sure. Seriously. Seriously.

First day of the rest of my life: take 14,524. How many of those days were wasted? I shudder to think. But God's mercies are new every day. Every single solitary stinking day! This is good. It means that no matter how bad I screw up today that tomorrow is a new day. And I do screw up I struggle with forgiveness for my husband and that skank whore he is shacked up with. I struggle to be okay with a world that is okay with what is happening to me and my kids. My kids are absolute proof in a higher force to me, I don't deserve such loveliness, such awesomeness in my life, yet there they are...somehow still calling me Mom and relying on me for things despite the fact the I know without a doubt I have totally dropped the ball of providing sanity, comfort, security, peace. Ugh. I feel very bad about this. This...all of what is going on in this moment...it is not what I ever wanted or envisioned for either of them. I wanted more. Every mother does...

The mercies are new everyday, but the residual feelings of failure never seem to fade.

Maybe I am doing this all wrong.

Please advise.

Frozen Frustration Friday

Ha ha! Like that I just made it up. I was going to take picture of the view from where I am sitting but with my camera it doesn't look as cool, so I just opened the door and snapped my front porch.

The snow only bothers me me if I have to drive. Well, if I have to drive a car I have not previously driven in the snow. I may take my daughter's car (aka my old car) out later because at least I know how it reacts. I only had to drive less than a mile round trip to drop my son off and it was enough for me to decide that I didn't want to drive in it anymore. I do sort of regret that because all my errands were within a mile. Gas. Track. Arrow.

The snow is the least of my frustrations. I tried to get him scheduled for daycare next week and I can't get Thursday. I am sure I can get coverage elsewhere, but it pains me greatly to have to rely on that source. I am more and more unimpressed with our preschool/daycare situation. Ask me sometime about the no pick up during naps policy if you really want to get me going. Or how unnecessary I think certain people's attitudes are. I mean if your personality can only be described with words I am not going to post here, then maybe you should reconsider being in a position where you have to deal with people.

I was already kinda frustrated with that job being pushed back a week, and then I get a call this morning that the start time for Monday has changed but they don't know if it's changed for the whole week. It would be preferable to have a "real" job instead of this totally expendable temp BS. I apply. I apply. I apply. I interview. I interview. I interview. No one hires me. We need money. What else am I supposed to do?

I am like an iceberg anymore. What you see, what I share, it's just the tip of this big frozen mass I have become. Letting it go and whatnot is not so easy when it just seems like nothing ever changes for the positive. There's all these little dark spots, some of them I don't have the first clue how to make bright.

It's kind of hard to believe that I woke up in a great mood and now I just feel like crying...or walking to Arrow to spend this gift card that's burning a hole in my wallet for lunch. (Just for the record, they do have food at Arrow, a whole deli as a matter of fact, so don't start an intervention yet.) Shrug, maybe I'll just throw the one-hour reggae meditation on my iPod and run a few small errands before I need to be anywhere.

ARRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRRR
GGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGGH!!!

You need to learn to drive with the fear, and there ain't nothin' more goddamn frightening than driving with a live cougar in the car. - Reese Bobby

I have been thinking about this movie scene mostly because I have been drowning in this subject.  Fear. Anxiety. Dread.

I don't really know how I am still up at 1:18am considering that I did not get good rest last night. Restless. Unpleasant dreams. Just drained.

The course of the last several days has really put me on edge. Now, for the record, I am not saying that no one is on the same edge. I can't speak for other people. I can only speak for me...and it's not an uptempo song right now.

I am usually pretty fearless. Oh, I have my my moments. Everyone does. But this right now, I can't shake it. The only reason these fears are starting to draw shadows on me is because my defenses are completely wore down. I am a dead battery.
It's kinda starting to look like game over and I am so tired of this game I am not even in the mood to try to find the time extender or extra life. 

I have completely lost all confidence. I am not joking. I will seriously punch the next person who says some bs like fall down seven times get up eight or you only fail when you stop trying or that things get better. I needed them better yesterday. I can not endure another setback. And lest you want to write me off as a whiner, I don't believe that my family and I have had a moments peace in four years. Starting with the week my son was born to now...I am not sure that I remember what happy...truly at ease, content, happy really feels like.

It's always something. It always is. I get that. Nothing is smooth. I wasn't born yesterday. I don't expect life to be as cheerfully surreal as an Old Navy commercial. I would expect a modicum of effort to produce some sort of positive result. I don't know maybe I expect too  much. There is a fine line between dreamer and fool, perhaps I have been kidding myself about which side of the line that I am on.


If I could learn to drive with the cougar, mebbee just mebbee, I could sleep. I mean like really sleep. Rock hard, solid, restful and rejuvenating sleep like I haven't experienced since...probably since about June or July of 2008. Hmm...you know, on that line...I think I have a great big huge colossal enormous resentment against God, the universe, fate, whatever you want to call it. I resent having been put in a position where I truly felt good and optimistic and hopeful. That first year of marriage, being pregnant with my son, and my husband, daughter and I really coming together as a family.

Smfh. It's entirely too late tonight early this morning to rehash that. I mean, even the people who might be reading this and think they know what I am talking about (except for R) you don't. I mean you might know some of the pains but you don't know them all or the depths of them.

I dunno, the whole driving with the cougar thing is along the same lines as walking by faith which I don't think I am capable of doing. I mean, I thought I was going with the flow and letting go but then something happens. Not something good. Never. Ever. I don't remember the last time something happened that just made me think  yeah, okay, everything is going to be just fine. 

Siiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiiigh...I couldn't really get into a car with a cougar anyway. It would probably instantly maul me and that'd just be one more shitty thing for my kids to go through. Shrug. Idk. Idfk.

I never really been here. Seriously. There was always a light. But now there's just this...

Cold and rainy outside...

It kind of fits my mood today.

Have you ever just felt like you were stuck in some weird situation where every turn you made somehow never got you out? Like some sick and twisted life labyrinth without the entertainment benefit of David Bowie.

A little over two years ago, we decided that we wanted/needed to move. I loved my little house in Southern Hills but it was just that little. Plus, development on the outskirts of the neighborhood coupled with the whole economy/foreclosure crisis had changed the flavor of the neighborhood for the worse. So, we did everything you're supposed to do to get your house in order and put it on the market.

We had lookers but no takers which in the beginning was okay because we had not found a place that we liked. Then, July 3, 2010 we went to look at two houses on the same street. The first one on paper was my house. Three bedrooms, two bathrooms, basement and no rear neighbors. Unfortunately, once inside it wasn't workable. The bedrooms were okay, but the second bathroom was just a toilet and half sink in the basement...no walls around it, just sitting there in the basement. So, we walked down to the second house which was across the street and four or so doors down. On paper, I wasn't crazy about it. I think a lot of that is that it was a Cape Cod and it looked just like a Hillcrest house.

Once inside though, it was a different story. Four bedrooms plus a study, two bathrooms, no basement but it didn't really matter because there was soo much room for activities. So, we put in an offer and hoped that everything would work out.

In the course of everything that happened from that day to the day we closed, we were advised to consider converting our little house into a rental. There is a whole lot around that decision that I am not going to get into but we are wondering now about the quality of consultation and service we have received over the last 18 or so months.

Our tenant moved out at the end of March. The entire time we had a tenant we had a property manager, and I use that term extremely loosely. See, the whole point of paying a licensed real estate professional to act on our behalf was to tap into that professional knowledge and hopefully hedge ourselves against some renters from hell nightmare.

I can't really get into details because we are still exploring our options as far as how to proceed. As this ball of yarn unwinds we are finding that it's a tangled mess. We fired our so called property manager. I am entirely not sure what he effectively did or why he completely failed to inform us of things that we should have been advised of....like rental registration. It would have been nice to have known that when we converted to a rental we were obligated to notify the county auditor of the change. Why would it have been nice? Well, apparently the city has been to our other property repeatedly for violations by tenants. How did we find out? When my husband stopped by the other house yesterday there was a notice taped to the door.

There is a right way and a wrong way to deal with this. It is taking every ounce of my being not to post all sort of bad review all over this page and the internet at large. I am mad as hell. I am completely disappointed at the complete lack of integrity exhibited by our former real estate agent and the previous tenants. I wonder, actually, I am fairly certain that there might be an undisclosed conflict in terms of the relationship between the former agent and the tenants.

I feel better getting that off of my chest. Thanks for listening and pray that I don't do something stupid in the course of dealing with other people's BS.

And I, I am feeling a little peculiar

I remember when top hats and aviator goggles were all the rage. Hell, I remember when 4 Non-Blondes were all the rage.I remember a lot, sometimes the downside of getting older.

I don't know what was the bigger appeal of this group, the lyrics, the name or the fact that it was some girls I could relate to. All of the above I guess...maybe. I remember listening to "What's Up" a lot with my friend, Julie. I remember it meaning a lot more when I was 25. "25 years of my life and still
Trying to get up that great big hill of hope For a destination."  And now here I am, ten years past twenty five still pondering that meaning.

I do feel peculiar. Moreso than I care to admit most days. But yeah, it always amazes me how much I don't fit in sometimes. And that's with trying to!!

I guess, the impetus for all this is my recent evaluation that I have amounted to nothing. It's not melodrama. I try and try and try and do not yield the same fruits as others seem to yield doing the exact same or less then I am attempting.

 ...one day my dad said "Bobby you are 17, it's time to throw childish things aside" and I said "OK Pop", but he didn't really say that he said that "Stop being a fucking dinosaur and get a job".
Maybe it's time to stop being a dinosaur.Granted, I never a got a paycheck from my last job. But maybe the point of life is that everyone is miserable all the time and no body really ever gets to do what they want. Least, that's how I am seeing it. 'Cuz I dunno, really, seriously, I've laid a lot of ground work to this magical forest I thought existed and where I am standing right now, seems like all I did is waste a lot bread laying my path.

I am not trying to be a downer. It's just where I am at right now, in this moment. I thought I was following a "calling" but more and more it seems like maybe I am just delusional.

Weathering the storm...

...as I write this I am wound full of ten kinds of anxiety. I have my first big vendor show tomorrow and as much as I keep telling myself it's out of my hands, I can't help but get keyed up. I guess, I should mention that it is Friday night and I am preposting so that I don't get off track like last weekend.


Today was tough. Nasty weather and my hubby driving in it to come home. He called me at one point because he was pulled off on account of hail and heavy wind. I made the dreadful mistake of turning on the tv after we hung. The area between here and where he was...big bright red splotch with tornado warnings. WARNINGS! I am not usually one to get shaken easily. But the hour and a half I waited for him to get home totally sucked!

Five or six more weeks of this. He had our daughter watch our son and we ran up to Town and Country and hit 2nd & Charles and Trader Joe's where he bought me a really pretty bouquet of flowers. We've been doing dinner once a week and talking and Skyping but it really isn't the same as having here 24/7.

I survived today. I can survive the next few weeks. I have watched enough Disney cartoons to know that my options are "Keep Moving Forward", "Keep on Swimming", "Hakuna Matata". Keep moving forward is my favorite. I like to imagine Tom Selleck telling me to keep moving forward. Hahahaha!

I hope that everyone is weathering their own storms with a style and a grace that's all their own!