it goes on...

here i am again, anxious, sleepless, and sick.  one leads to the next and finally my body breaks.  friday brought with it a level of anxiety that i had not felt in a while.  yes, i am anxious all the time...but the terrifying, debilitating nervousness awoke with me that morning and since i have paced the floor, been wide awake virtually non-stop and have been hit with a sinus infection/cold or the like. 

the 3 day headache i suffered with last tuesday-thursday left me spent and weak.  the upcoming 2nd of may ever-nearing on the calendar and a complete lack of any resolution have sent me spinning.  my life continues to revolve around a long-ago day most people have long since forgotten and/or moved on from.  i'm not made that way.  my traumatic childhood and subsequent happenings have left me more prone to inertia and stress than to coping and moving on. 

as i walked winston today i heard the neighbors' fountain, installed post-flood, and i am reminded that not everyone who suffered as i did has remained stuck in the pain.  i'm afraid, literally afraid, of the sound of running water most days and i find it damn near impossible that a family who lost everything in a flood could rebuild and then go and put a fountain on the front porch!  they are the loveliest of people and have a young daughter, who is breathtakingly beautiful, who loves to come pet winston when i walk him...but i regularly think of how i could best bash that fountain to hell and remain on good terms with the family.

it's true that most of my neighbors are right where i am--nervous, angry, lost and with not a small feeling of helplessness but some people just experienced the flood and dealt with it and recovered.  i have no idea how to deal with it.  i continue my therapy, my medication, writing about it on this blog and in other forums, and yet i'm still here.

i am unable to write, to read, to watch movies or television.  i'm just not comfortable anywhere.  i mostly lie outside on my back and stare directly into the sun.  when i get cool or the bugs begin their feast of my flesh i move inside and lie on the couch staring out the skylight into the moonlight or the moonless dark. 

i pray for...

grace and peace



stephen king and jack white

i had 2 tasks today:  download the new jack white album and buy the new stephen king novel.  a few years ago this would have been a great day indeed--2 of my favorite artists releasing material on the same day.  yay!  well, this is not a few years ago and so today went like this:

paced the house anxiously dreading the bookstore (who EVER saw that coming?!) and tried hard to convince myself to use my remaining birthday money (in the form of an itunes gift card) to download the book to my ipad and skip the album therefore saving money and a trip to barnes and noble.  i got ready anyway, walked winston, headed out to west end with the knowledge that if i got there and couldn't go in that i could always come back home and read the damn ebook.  

i get there and, great day in the morning, there's a parking spot!  you nashvillians know how impossible that vanderbilt parking lot is.  it was a sign i suppose.  i made it inside and instantly my hopes of finding the book sitting on the "new release" table were dashed.  it was nowhere.  everyone in the new store (it just opened after the borders that used to be there folded) was busy.  i had to hunt through the store (both floors) which now appears to be the actual vanderbilt university bookstore--as in all the text books, sweatshirts, electronics and paraphernalia is on display.  i was anxious about the new surroundings and i still couldn't find the book.  i finally had to ask and one of the employees found it on a cart in the back.  

i realized as i walked though the cafe with my iced coffee that i was getting some looks.  since the flood i've joked that i feel like i have "flood victim" or "prone to panic attacks" or "PTSD" tattooed on my forehead because my anxiety makes me a little paranoid and ultra vulnerable.  i quickly remembered that i was standing in the middle of all these vandy students and i had on a white t-shirt with a huge orange "T" on both the front and back.  it was not my status as trauma survivor that was garnering all the attention it was my allegiance to the university of tennessee, and it's unmistakable orange, smack-dab in enemy territory.  i got out of there in one piece, no thanks to a rude man, who not only didn't hold the door for me, but nearly knocked me over on his way in.  it was so egregious in fact that a young guy came out after me and commented on it.  his kindness thus saving the aforementioned man from my wrath.

i rushed home as i always do after such outings with shaky hands and pounding heart, driving much too fast and running from and toward nothing in particular but my own anxious thoughts and fears.  i did get a little laugh as i was in the midst of a near tourette's screaming fit at a honda doing 55 in front of me in the fast lane.  yes, 55 is the speed limit, but "i can't drive 55!"  as i passed the car on the right, mid-scream, i turned to taunt the driver of said honda when i saw 2 nuns.  the nun driving had her hands at 10 and 2 and the nun in the passenger seat was holding rosary beads.  i'm not even kidding!  it was hilarious to me.  i laughed a good long while at that one.  as long my, by now, pounding head would allow.  

when i got home i downloaded the jack white and walked winston.  by the time i got inside it was 2:30 and my head was splitting!  from then until now i've been on the couch in the fetal position.  i don't know if it's stress, my ever-worsening eyesight, my allergies or my lackluster diet of late but i've been in severe pain.  so much so that i have neither listened to my new album or read a word of my long-awaited, difficult to come by, new book.

  

i just keep hearing ferris bueller's words over and over in my head, "how's that for being born under a bad sign?"  

grace and peace    

mourning levon

here is the scene during my walk today-

 

iPod off shuffle, for once, and playing "the band" at near eardrum-rupturing volume.  tears pouring down my cheeks while i sung along with my sore throat and runny nose.  i learned of levon helm's death earlier in the day and took my walk mainly to walk off some of my grief.  levon, drummer and singer for "the band", has long been one of my favorites.

pollen of some sort was so thick in the air that it looked like a snowstorm and some of the yards resembled small, square cotton fields.  as i ran fingers through my hair i could feel it fall to my shoulders.  not to mention that i could, for the first time in months, actually smell the honeysuckle that lines the streets of my neighborhood--nice, but i'm allergic.  none of this helped my demeanor (or my allergies).  a mile and a half in i thought i wouldn't be able to make it home to a cold glass of ice water and a hot shower before my throat closed up good and proper.  i kept the walk to 2 miles but have been in an allergy-induced funk since i got in. 

one more night to survive a headache as well as heartache.

RIP levon!

grace and peace

more of the same

sorry i've been MIA for a while.  there are a few reasons for this:  torturous and persistent headaches, a serious medical crisis for one of my best friends and a similar yet less serious medical crisis in my family, a couple of job interviews (neither of which i've heard from) and a general feeling of unease and melancholy. 

i struggle with a constant lack of motivation where my writing is concerned.  i cannot get my muddled thoughts out in any concise manner and so i just avoid the whole charade.  i always write (or not) like this.  it comes in strong and crashing waves and then trickles so slowly that i think i may indeed die of wanting.  it's like the quote i read years ago, i don't remember who said it, but the writer stated that "i write so slowly that i could write in my own blood and not bleed to death."  that's me!  i just keep reading and waiting for inspiration.

i'm job-hunting and praying and those activities keep me pretty busy.  i listen to a lot of music and try to convince myself that the house doesn't need any straightening...it does.  so that's what i do:  avoid any work and immerse myself in other people's words and chords and hope that i can hold out long enough to contribute my own.

grace and peace

Happy Easter

when i reflect on the last year, as one is want to do at birthday time, i’m reminded of how hard it was.  at the time of my birthday i was spending nearly every day at a local rehab center where both my grandmothers were recovering, one from a fall and one from complications due to pneumonia.  neither of them was able to be alone.  my mother’s mother, then 84, was watched over by my mother, my aunt and me.  my father’s mother, then 93, was watched over by my dad, 2 of his sisters and me.  there were times when i was the only one able to be there and i had to run back and forth from room to room.  luckily for me they were on the same floor.  my paternal grandmother was there for 4 weeks and my maternal grandmother there for 6.  in the meantime i was traveling back and forth, 180 miles round trip; to be with my dad’s other sister who was in the last stages of cancer.  she would die before either of my grandmothers’ left the center.  My 93 year old grandmother would not be able to attend her daughter’s funeral.  i was tired and frazzled beyond what i thought was possible.  after surviving 2010 and the bronchitis, the pneumonia, the firing, the flood, the loss of my house, car, my possessions and possibly my life i didn’t think i would ever recover.  i would soon lose a 17 year old dog as well.  i was one big, raw nerve.

when i think of the last 2 years i cannot remember a day that i didn’t feel exhausted, a day when i didn’t feel helpless in some way, a day when i wasn’t terrified of the next catastrophe awaiting me.  i still feel that way, but i am grateful that this birthday was spent in a more peaceful place, every little bit helps.  my life is still in limbo as i await the changes yet to come, the completion of the house, the inevitability of a new job or school, the subsequent plan to escape this anxiety-inducing heap of a house and go somewhere else—anywhere else; a place where i can relax, a place where i can leave the house and not have to see this wretched river that is now my arch-enemy, a place without torturous memories.

so i experienced my birthday as not much more than the marking of time.  one big red “X” on the 37^th year of my life.  then i woke up this morning, Easter—day 2 of my 38^th year—and was reminded that i was to celebrate the best thing to have ever happened in human history:  the resurrection of Jesus.  the thing that makes all that we suffer in this world worth it.  the thing that gives us Christians hope in the painless and tearless Heaven that awaits us.  the thing that proves to me that the pain is not the end of the story but a necessary means to an end that is greater than anything we can imagine in this fallen, sinful world.  praise be to God for being bigger, better, kinder, more merciful and more loving than our human minds can comprehend. 

Happy Easter!

grace and peace

Good Friday/Passover

the plan for today was:  family function, walk, shower, church for Good Friday service tonight at 7:00. 

the reality of today was:  family function...

i've been struck with a monstrous headache, whether from allergies, as a result of being outside all day, or from going too long between my breakfast of 2 homemade pancakes and my supper of leftover pasta i'm not sure.  probably a combination of both.

by the time i got home and walked winston i was too hungry and in too much pain to do anything but eat a bite and lie down.  now it's too cool and dark for me to start a walk and it's 5 till 7:00.  and my head still hurts! 

i think i will turn off this computer, read the crucifixion story in all 4 Gospels and spend some time in prayer in lieu of church.  then it doesn't really matter what else the night brings.  i will be ready to celebrate Easter on sunday. 

He is risen!

grace and peace

unrealistic expectations

as you all know by now, i don't have a television, so i will admit that i am one of those people that gets news almost exclusively from "the daily show with jon stewart."  i visit only 4 websites with any regularity:  blogger, facebook, netflix and hulu.

so this morning as i was watching "the daily show" from earlier in the week i was first exposed to the jessica simpson pregnancy weight gain issue on the "moment of zen" segment.  i have a few things to say here...

1.  the only person who should tell if a pregnant woman has gained too much weight should be that woman's doctor.

2.  the obsession that we as a culture have with weight (perfection) is harmful at best and vile at worst.

3.  50 years ago the average woman was a size 8.

4.  the average model was also a size 8.

5.  today the average american woman is a size 14 and 5'4".

6.  the average model is a size 0 and 5'11"-6'

7.  fashion designers design clothes for these size 0s (that's why we have a hard time shopping guys!).

8.  the average movie star is a 2 or 4.

9.  besides the jessica simpson story i remember 2 recent stories about women and their weight that bothered me as much:  adele called fat by a fashion designer and michelle obama called fat by, grade-A #1 windbag, rush limbaugh.

10. the fact that so many women, but more importantly young girls and teenagers, compare themselves to 6' tall size 0 models who are surgically-enhanced, digitally-enhanced and airbrushed beyond recognition is appalling. 

11. the fact that 2 of these 3 beautiful women were called out by men (jessica simpson's weight being called out by a female ob/gyn) is disgusting.  men do not face the same exposure, expectations or difficulty losing weight that women face.

12. besides isn't it men that are always screaming that "size doesn't matter!"

size 12 and 14

size 0

who looks healthier to you?