go fish?

My peeps are at the field right now practicing for the Tucson Highland Games. C asked me last night if I would go to practice, but it's too dang hard to go hang out when I can't pick up anything without hurting myself. I've been trying to interest myself in more...sedentary hobbies since my hip went lame on me, but I just haven't managed to find a passion for anything just yet. And I admit, part of the lack of passion is in part due to how f'ing depressed I've been. I've got St. John's Wort coming out my ears, but I'm still depressed as hell. Some days the can't-get-out-of-bed depressed. Always swore I would never "let" myself get that bad...I would do something...make myself keep, well, doing. 

If I'm going to be honest with myself, I isolate myself too much-and yeah, legitimately, there was a while during my recovery where i couldn't do much more than get from the bathroom to bed, but I'm mobile now, so I don't have an excuse. It's just back to that whole reaching out to people to do coffee, go to a movie, play cards...anything to get my ass interacting with other humans.

Well, good thing I've got my C, and my pups.

meh

Yay for me. I'm not feeling as negative and crappy as I was at the time of my last posting. Not pooping rainbows just yet, but not as negative, and I'll take that for today.

I'm taking a little break from an online class I'm taking. I haven't committed to anything yet, but I've started taking prerequisites for a physical therapy assistant program. I've got just under a year before they take the next round of students into the program, so I've got time to try this on for size and take my time with a few classes. 

Although I'm not pooping rainbows, here is my attempt at doing things a little different. Rather than just pretending everything is grand and wonderful, I'll be a bit more congruent, a little bit more open. A few weeks ago I discovered an emotional/spiritual/mental thorn in my side that I didn't realize was there. Pulling it out was like, well, pulling a giant thorn out of my side...I was freaked out, I was disgusted, and it hurt. I bled all over for a while, it hurt like hell some more, I freaked out some more...but it finally seems to be healing over...and I'm hopeful (this is a rare and wondrous word for me to be using right now) that pulling out that thorn will start to heal some of the septicemia that I have very unsuccessfully been trying to clear up for years. Just having a little hope today feels good, because I've been feeling pretty hopeless about a good many things for way too long now.

On this thorn picking journey a couple of themes have come up; one of them being "support." Which I suck at asking for or accepting. But I'm pretty sure I'm not the only one. When doing assessments I would ask about friends/support. I was taught to ask, "If you needed someone to bail you out of jail in the middle of the night, do you have someone you could call?" Pretty muchly, everyone I asked had at least a couple people they could call, but I bet if I asked, "If your heart was aching/breaking in the middle of the night and you just needed someone to reach out to you, do you have someone you could call?" that many people would say "no" or maybe I'm just projecting because that would be my answer. Back when I was new in AA, my sponsors told me over and over again, "Call me night or day if you need to talk." I did once. I was promptly told to pray and read some AA literature. Yeah, that was helpful. And it certainly reinforced that belief of mine that even if people say they are there for you, you can call them any time, chances are that a kick in the teeth is waiting in the wings. So, all that to say I'm not sticking my neck out to real, live people for support! How very healthy of me. ahem. yeah. ah well, part of the process, right? I guess part of the process is me learning who I can and can't count on for support...and right now I'm on the side of I'd rather take my chances of not getting kicked at all. I know support, trust, balanced relationships, etc takes time, and work, and taking chances. At least I'm thinking about it.

As they say in AA to the sick ones, "Keep coming back!"

Crap

What to share? I don't know that anyone reads this, but just in case, I don't want to make myself toooo vulnerable. Let's start with: It's been a rough patch...for a while. It was a heavy blow to have to admit that the profession I had spent 3 years of my life, and more student loan money than I care to admit to train for was...a big mistake. Emotionally; mentally, I just couldn't do it. And I hear my brother's voice echoing in my head every time I think about it..."Can't you stick to anything?" Well, I guess I can't...you win, asshole.

I tried to make it work. I tried different populations, different self-care techniques...but I was getting sicker than the people I worked with. Admitting defeat sucks, but I have to face the reality that I just don't have the constitution for that kind of work.

And here I am, 9 months later trying to figure out what I'm going to be when I grow up. I'm exploring some options, but I'm uncertain. I struggle with that whole "knowing what I know" thing. I'm struggling with the insecurity of having made one giant mistake and being terrified of making another. And the guilt and shame of not being able to get steady work because I look like a loser on paper...which makes me feel like a loser.

I don't have any positive spin to put on this today. If I tried, it would just be meaningless bullshit.

On another note, I've been sorting through my past...through old belief systems and habits...trying to resolve some things so that maybe I can go forth confidently...so that I can have faith that I do know myself, and my path.

It's been a damn slow process of cutting through the brambles, and discovering sink holes that I didn't realize were there. I've been frustrated, hopeful, hopeless, angry, content, sad, ashamed, but not yet confident. I try to put on a good show, but I know I'm succeeding less and less. And right now I don't have the energy for the show so I hide in my house, and if I have to go out I keep put on my Angry Armour and hope people just stay the hell away. However, I need to remember from my past that my Angry Armour doesn't work on the right people. Crap.

Anger

Anger has a way of lurking beneath the surface, like all those little fish at the beach. I don't notice them until they start nibbling at my open wounds. For some reason surgery has a way of reminding me how much anger I carry...how much anger is under the surface, all of which I choose to ignore, even when it squirts out the side of my head like cobra venom and lands on someone who it really shouldn't. Maybe it's not so much that surgery reminds me as it is that that wall I keep anger shoved behind gets tumbled during the physiological and psychological vulnerability of surgery.

Speaking of which, vulnerability makes me angry. This morning I was angry. Really angry. Not at anyone, or any groups. Just angry. Angry about vulnerability...and if I'm going to look at it more closely, angry at people who have, due to power differentials, made me vulnerable/taken advantage of my vulnerability. Revenge and Retribution-Angry. Not that I'd actually do anything, but these malicious thoughts are not so comfortable. When I was younger, I wore these like a suit of armour...but that isn't how I live my life anymore, and in my doped up, foggy-headed, post-surgery state I'm having trouble finding a place for all of this clutter.

Maybe it isn't clutter. Maybe it just...is. Maybe I just need to embrace the darkness, the pain, the anger. Sort it out of the floor...figure out what to keep, what to save, what to put to the side for further review. 

Maybe I should just order a pizza and take a nap.

the waves

Ok, so doing much better after yesterday's melt down. Have to have those every now and then. At least I do. For now.

Yesterday was a good reminder of how the accumulation of stress, physical pain, and lack of quiet can make me a little crazy. I know for most folks the sound of the surf is relaxing and such, but for me it's just constant NOISE. Constant noise. And how I just need some silence.

And this is a good metaphor for my mind. Let me tell ya; it's like the surf up there in my head. Constant, powerful waves of noise. Fortunately, I am able to quiet the noise, but it takes a lot of effort and it takes having a quiet space for me to do so. Just like exercise and eating right, this needs to be a daily practice for me, this finding my own still point, but I easily get distracted/off track. Perhaps my public confession will help me get back on track, and stay on track.

The impossble

Why do I blame myself for everything that goes on in the world? The guy at the gas station with the bad attitude, nuclear waste pouring into the ocean, the death of an acquaintance.

Wow, if only I had that much power! What the hell is wrong with me? Seriously? 

Yet when it comes to the things I have power over in my life, I feel completely helpless...powerless...and because of that sense of helplessness/powerlessness I fail to act. Maybe it's the realistic powerlessness of the former mentioned situations that I attach to. Maybe it's easier to take responsibility for those things that I obviously have no control over, because...crap...I almost had it. Because I really can't do a damn thing about those impossible situations, so I don't have to feel bad about not taking action. The only problem with that little situation is that I still do feel bad about not taking action. 

How f'ed up is that? I need to stop that crap.

The end.

Perspective

No game posts today. Just random thoughts bounces through my head like a rabid pinball machine.

Last night Chris and I visited one of her college friends and stayed up waaaay past our bedtime laughing, telling stories, playing darts, and smoking cigars. A few blocks away from her house C got a text and we figured it was her sending a last-word hysterical text. 

Instead it was a text from C's coworker T who I had met last week, along with T's partner J. When we went out that night I was thinking that C and I don't have many lezzie-couple friends, and that these 2 would be a great addition to our small circle. They were funny, they were in to fitness, unlike me they were both gainfully employes...perfect, right?

Back to the text...so T was asking if we were coming to the J's memorial. WTF?!? So we googled J thinking we must be misunderstanding the text. Nope. No misunderstanding. We're still unclear of the details other than J passed last week, and T is devastated..."heart-broken"...and our heart is aching for her...and we're hundreds of miles away and can only offer words and positive energy, and hope they are enough for now.

Moments like these, I realize how much of a control freak I am because I want so bad to make it better, but there's not a damn thing I can really do...except hold a space. And appreciate my own loved ones...and let them know how much they are appreciated.