January 31, 2008

Damn you Tom Wolfe

Life is a crazy jumble right now...not for me really, I'm strangely calm about myself. But the other important people in my life - I worry about them. They know all the reasons why so no reason to bring it to the blogsphere.

I'm maintaining an even strain. That remains one of my favorite movie quotes ever.

I wish I had something more exciting to post but I don't.

January 23, 2008

does every pot truly have a lid? Maybe I'm a saute pan instead

In spite of everything, I remain hopeful that good will come out of it. I know there are times I'm scared that no matter what I do or what I change that this existence will be the rest of my life.

I've been on my own for a while - no children, no spouse - while the majority of my friends have at least one or the other. It can be lonely but as a friend pointed out, it makes you self-aware. Sometimes TOO self-aware and perhaps even dabbling into "head up my own ass" syndrome (shall we call it HUMOA?). It can be very self-indulgent as I've learned how to be very set in my own ways. I like my towels folded a certain way, sugar NOT splenda, and cheetoes at 10:00 p.m. after I didn't have time to get dinner before class. It can be wonderful on days I decide to do the things that only please me.

But...at the heart of it all, I want to be a part of something - and yes, I'm a part of the world, friendships, family, blah, blah, blah...but ahhh, that something. Part of this has been at my own making - the shell that I wear and adorn - but part of this is having the tools stripped from me. The ones that used to make me feel so self-confident.

And age....damned age.

January 17, 2008


I saw you in the coffee shop, just the other day. Sitting quietly, reading the paper and sipping strong, black coffee in a chipped earthen mug. You obviously brought the mug from home. A favorite to keep the coffee hot while you pour over each word. Your fingers were smudged from the newpaper ink and one lock of hair refused to lay down. I ached to smooth it but refrained.

My coffee was served and I left. You never even knew I was there. But, in my imagination I sat next to you, sipping my sweetened concoction and drank in your presence. The engine turned over as I left you framed in the window seat and my heart ached a little. No, actually it ached a lot - why lie to myself?

I saw you in the market carefully going through the steaks and piling giant potatoes in the cart. I'm sure you put in an extra tub of sour cream and maybe some fresh blue cheese. Your cart was sparse as you hate to go to the grocery. Again, you never saw me as I whispered, "excuse me." I was invisible and gone in an instant.

The young boy bagged my groceries as I saw you walk briskly out the door. The sun shattered a million reflections on the windshield as you drove away.

I'm sure I'll see you again today - somewhere that I least expect you. I'll look up and see you crossing some random street, probably driving in a different direction or parking in a crowded lot. The wind will probably ruffle your hair that needs a trim along your collar and I'll melt again.

This is how I imagine you...always just out of my reach. The man of my dreams that I can never seem to find and hold. The perfect man because we've never met at all.

things to do, people to see, places to go

I have things scheduled for the next three nights. Looking at that I can't believe that I'm coming outside my shell to actually have a life. Ok, so they're not exciting or anything like that. But...they are things. To do. Like in leaving my apartment for anything besides work or food.

I feel good about it.

Or maybe everything is just leveling off.

January 10, 2008

on depression

I never really understood it before. Sure I held hands with friends and comforted them. I watched my mother go through a valium addiction in dealing with her depression. I watched friendships break up over depression. But, I always felt like an outsider looking in. Until now.

Now I get it. The tide of anger and sorrow has washed completely over me like a giant wave of black funk. I can cry at the drop of a hat and that damn hat drops every time I turn.

I'm fighting back. I am. Standing at the door with teeth armed and growls bursting through my chest. That is whenever I don't feel like laying prostrate in my bed not wanting to breath because it's too much effort. I haven't felt like talking, smiling or lifting a finger. Turning my head is a bit too much effort.

Therapy is good. It is. But peeling back the layers. That is difficult and consuming.

January 3, 2008

A new year, a new me?

God, I didn't think 2008 was ever freaking going to get here. It was a long, hard, difficult, soul-numbing year. So many things happened and though the end seemed slow it when by in a nano-second.

After cleaning this week, my attitude is better and I've indulged this bit of depression as long as I can. So, there. I do feel better and I've been a big believe in "feeling my feelings" as the past therapist has told me. So, I've been feeling them and had a very lovely depression. Now, not to say I won't have my lapses of tears - but I find myself spritzing on a bit of cologne and putting on mascara again.

Maybe I'll even peek my head out of a cave or something. We will see.