to sum it up so far

My six-word memoir is:

got dumped, lost god, found myself.

What’s yours?

six is enough, right?

Songs that give me goose-bumps:

Lorena, Bob Schneider

“Those demons you keep locked away
All them shiny skeletons in your closet
Gonna break free and get you one day
Oh and I’d like to be there when it happens”

Hallelujah, Rufus Wainwright or Jeff Buckley

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AratTMGrHaQ

“But love is not a victory march
it’s a cold and it’s a broken hallelujah”

When the Stars Go Blue, Ryan Adams

This is not the studio recording version, which is the one I prefer, so check it out if you get a chance. And also, I am completely against the Tim McGraw version of this song. *shudder*

“Laughing with your pretty mouth
Laughing with your broken eyes”

All of My Days, Alexi Murdoch

“Well many a night I found myself with no friends standing near
All of my days
I cried aloud, I shook my hands
What am I doing here?”

The Lightning Strikes, Snow Patrol (Part Three – Daybreak)

“When you held onto me like I was your little life raft
Please know that you were mine as well”

My Proof

“This photograph is my proof. There was that afternoon when things were still good between us, and she embraced me. And we were so happy. It did happen. She did love me. Look, see for yourself!

love list

I am posting this off of my facebook. Euphonium had a note she titled “love list,” about all the things she loved. When I read it, it made me so happy and grateful that I was inspired to write a list of my own.

I love the feeling of starting a brand new journal.

I love cursing. There’s a bone deep satisfaction in letting them fall off my tongue just for the sake of saying them.

“Shitbucket, hellfire, damnation, and son of a mother bitch,” said Rosaleen, laying into each word like it was sweet potatoes on her tongue.”

-The Secret Life of Bees

I love quotes because sometimes it seems like you can say it all so much better than I can.

I love handwritten letters, especially ones from you.

I love men with big noses.

I love seeing things from other viewpoints and perspective, in ways I’ve never thought of it before. It feels like a good stretch, or like when the eye doctor flips the lens, asking “One….or two?”

I love singing in the grocery store while pushing my cart down the aisles.

I love mix cds and thoroughly believe that they should be heard through car speakers, especially for a first play.

I love it when my shuffle knows exactly what song I need to hear at that moment.

I love the feel of clothes right out of the dryer.

I love hugs. They’re pretty much my favorite.

I love finishing a journal and flipping through the pages and seeing all the words I’d written over the many months. I love the tangible proof that I have not yet lost my voice.

caps

This may be a long post and it may not be the most organized, so this is your warning.

A few months ago I made an appointment with my school’s CAPS (Counseling and Psychological Services) program. My first appointment was the Tuesday before Thanksgiving and when I called I didn’t tell anyone what I was doing, and since then I’ve only told two other people – Theory and Euphonium.

It was family problems that was the push for me to make the phone call and the appointment. Dad was being an ass and I felt like I couldn’t handle the strain of my family. I was so mad at my father and I knew I’d have to see him over Thanksgiving. I felt all this weight on my shoulders. I wanted to tell him to get his act together, but I feared that it would make the situation worse. I felt like my family was going to shit and it was up to me to put it back together. I needed someone to tell me how to handle my family and what I should do.

I still remember making the call. I was so nervous. I had been thinking about it for awhile and at one moment I just decided to do it. Kind of like that feeling of when you look over the edge of the pool and don’t know if you want to jump. You make the decision to go for it and you have to do it as soon as you decide or else you know you’ll back out, and almost without thinking you dive in.

I walked into the office, my stomach knotted up and I was so nervous. My name was called and I walked with this guy to his office and we sat down. He wanted to know why I had made the call and what was wrong.

I am terrible at expressing myself. I have great difficulty discussing certain things, especially things that make me vulnerable. The very act of trying to articulate these thoughts and feelings is almost impossible. So before I could even say anything about my family or why I was there, I felt that tightness in my throat. Tears started streaming down my face. That is the physical reaction that usually happens when I try to discuss personal things about myself.

I soon stopped crying, feeling a little embarrassed, and described my situation with my family. This was the beginning of our sessions, which lasted until the Tuesday before last (April 7). I have been through a lot with my therapist, who we’ll call Earnest.

Since November I have learned a lot about myself. One thing I learned was just how difficult it is for me to verbalize my feelings. I am very slow in articulating myself and sometimes the words just won’t come out. Physically I have trouble forming the words. They’re in my head and they travel up my throat, but my mouth just will not form the words. Earnest was really great about letting me take the time I needed to say what I needed to say and never rushed me. There aren’t a lot of people who will do that – sit with you and let you take all the time you need to say what you have to say.

I realized how little I divulge to people. There’s a certain level where I let people go, but no further. Everything else is for my mind and my journal. Therapy helped me realize where that level was when I was pushed to say things that I had never intended to say to another person; it was just meant for my journal. I learned at how automatic my defenses come up, to the point where I didn’t even think about it. In my mind it was just the way it was.

One of the biggest things I learned about myself was how little I allow myself permission to feel certain emotions. How little I even acknowledge how I’m feeling. A hundred times a day I push aside a hundred different emotions and don’t let myself feel or experience them. They’re feelings I think I’m not supposed to feel – jealousy, crankiness, impatience, annoyance, fear, doubt, anger, and so many more. I’m not supposed to feel any of these because it means I’m not a good person and everyone will think I’m not a good person and get fed up with me and where would I be left after that?

Thinking like that gets so exhausting. It’s exhausting because I do feel mad, frustrated, scared, insecure, and everything else and there’s this struggle because I’m feeling it, but I’m not allowed. So I beat myself up over it and in the end I feel like I’m this despicable person because I can’t control my feelings and I feel like all I feel are bad, negative ones.

A particularly difficult session was when when I discussed how there is a scale in my head that is in flux. This is not something I am proud of, but I feel like I am taking care of everyone and everything and as a consequence I tend to keep tallies or keep score. You know, that laundry list you keep and think to yourself, “I’ve done this, that, the other for you, but what have you done for me lately?” It is most definitely not something I am proud of and something I think I tried to deny about myself until I talked about it in therapy. This is especially related because in my mind everyone is keeping score. So every time I am short tempered, every time I snap, every time I ask for a favor from someone, every time I say the wrong thing, I feel like it’s a mark against me.

Another thing I learned about myself how sick and tired I am of taking care of everyone else and how I really want to be taken care (a few times Earnest tried to talk about how my tallying was a way to prevent others from taking care of me, even when I desperately wanted them to. I never fully understood that though, although it might make some sense).

So ever since therapy I’ve been trying to be more easy on myself. I’ve been working on not pushing away my emotions, although that is REALLY hard during the last weeks of the semester because I’m so busy I don’t have a lot of time to analyze my emotions. Instead of pushing away how I feel, I try to at least acknowledge I am feeling it, and try to tell myself that feeling that way does not make me a completely unlovable person.

Another consequence of therapy is I am distancing myself from my family’s dysfunction. I’ve realized that their problems are not mine to fix. We ALL have our part in this little drama we’ve created and it is not fair to expect me to solve the problems. Mom has the choice to not accept Dad’s phone calls or his harassment. Dad has the choice to not get mad or to not constantly harass the family. That is their part and they are not doing it.

This has lightened a load off of my back. I am still concerned about my family, obviously, but I feel more secure in my position that I am not a shit daughter if I don’t patch everything up or pick up the slack. I deserve to be taken care of as well. (Although I do admit that going back home for the summer terrifies me. What if this resolve doesn’t last? What if it all goes back to how it was before and it doesn’t amount to anything?)

Earnest was an amazing therapist. I cried so often, but he let me. He let me take all the time I needed to articulate myself. He was supportive and he gave me the opportunity to go to a place that was about me. It wasn’t about my sister or my mom or anyone else. I wasn’t told that my feelings were irrational or over emotional. That office became a space where I could feel safe. I have never opened up to another human being that much, even more so than my ex-boyfriend (and Earnest listened so much better than my ex). I learned that it isn’t the end of the world when you tell someone else your feelings and your problems. I felt like there was someone who cared about me and who believed in me. That was one of the biggest things I’ve learned – to let myself open up to someone and trust them.

I am going to miss Earnest a hell of a lot. The reason therapy ended was because his internship thingy at the school ended and he had to leave to finish school, so it’s not like I can go back and talk to him. I already miss him a little bit and I miss having that block of time every week to think through all my emotions and problems. I was having trouble adjusting these past two weeks to not having that. I’ve decided to try and re-dedicate one day a week to that in my own time, because I still need it.

So there’s my big secret. I probably won’t tell my mom about therapy. How do you bring that up in a conversation? I still don’t know. I haven’t told Bear either and again, don’t really plan on it. I would like to continue therapy, but I don’t think I can afford it and I’m not going to ask Mom for money for therapy – she wouldn’t give it anyway. I might look into places back home when school lets out, but I don’t know if it would work. It’s easier to lie to your roommate than your mom. But we’ll see.

dyeing for change

Here is a life lesson I have learned over the years.

New hair cuts don’t change anything. They don’t give you a new start and they don’t fix any of your problems. They are never as liberating as you think they will be. And they sure as hell do not cure heartache. They never change you as much as you hope they will and in the end you’re still left with the same insecurities, the same fears, same problems as the girl before the cut (or dye or perm or whatever)

roommates

I live in a six person school apartment (it’s now down to five because one girl moved out at the beginning of the semester). I share a room with Bear, but we got stuck living with four complete strangers who were all already friends.

Have I talked about my extreme dislike for them? I am not happy that school is ending in two weeks because it will mean no more work and I’ll get to relax and see friends. I am happy because it means I can move out of this apartment and never have to see their faces again. I never have to be woken up at two in the morning because they’re coming home drunk, I never have to stare at my computer in frustration because they are being too loud in the living room, I never have to feel unwelcome in my own living room again, I never have to deal with them again. They are extremely unpleasant people. Mocking others is a past time for them. They get on facebook and for hours make fun of other people, how fat they are, how ugly they are, how dumb they are. They also watch trashy reality shows on VH1 or MTV and mock them as well. What sort of satisfaction does someone get from that?

Two weeks….

ring ring

Earlier this morning I was trying to park in this tiny space.

(Can anyone see where this story is heading?)

I think I’ve got it. I know I’ve got it. Then I hear crunch. shit. I scrape up all along their front bumper and there’s paint all over my passenger door. I have been in a number of fender benders, but most of them weren’t really my fault, and I still get my ear chewed out by my mother, so I can only imagine what she’ll say this time.

I left a note on their windshield with my number, but they haven’t called yet. Is it awful for me to wish that it blows away? That I can say I left a note, tried to do the right thing, but if fate wishes it, the number gets lost or blown away? PLEASE?

*sigh* I’ll have to face the music eventually. And I know it won’t be as bad as I am making it out to be. But here’s hoping I don’t receive any phone calls….

Fuddy Meers

Last Friday Theory ordered tickets for the two of us to see a university play, but my roommate wanted to go, but couldn’t because she already had plans. So Theory calls the office and gets the date changed to the next Friday, yesterday. As the week goes by Theory keeps reminding my roommate, Bear, to call and order her ticket.

Friday rolls around and she hasn’t yet, but not to worry! She’s got a plan. She works as an usher at the theater and knows the usher working that night. So we walk in, hand the girl our tickets, while Bear runs up and hugs the girl and engages in chit-chat, asking about working, smiling wide. As Theory and I start to walk in the theater, Bear waves goodbye to her friend and walks in with us.

Now, there are worse crimes than sneaking into a university play. It’s not exactly that that I’m upset or unsettled over. But when she does things like that it offends some moral code I have inside of me. A part of me doesn’t think it’s fair that she didn’t order a ticket; that she was lazy and forgetful and and she doesn’t have to pay for it in the end. There are no consequences for her. That pisses me off a little bit. And what’s more, I think she used her friend to get in the play. I looked on in a mixture of shock and disgust at Bear schmoozing her friend, and how fake she was being. How calculating it all was. It almost makes me question what she would use me for when it comes convenient.

second wind

So I’ve been letting myself slack off on my 2009 theme. I’ve been using sickness as an excuse not to do much, and trying to use all these reasons and “logic” to explain why I can’t or shouldn’t do all these things.

The weather is motivating me to buck up. I’m FINALLY starting to get over my sickness (a cold/cough thingie that morphed into a sinus infection) and I want to start following my theme more. I not only want to do more, but put more energy into it. Look forward to doing these things and not view it as something that needs to get done and over with so I can go back to my laptop and watch the newest episode of The Office. For example, my volunteering group is having a social tomorrow night and a part of me is dreading it. But they’re nice people and there’ll be food and whatnot.