I just went private.

The incision on my face stings.   It's 6:11am.  I tried, but can not sleep.   My mind is tired, but racing.  There are so many more things I wanted to share.  My mind still feels disorganized & muddy.   I'm feeling a strange mix of hopelessness and hopeful.    And for the first time in the 10+ years of this blog, I just went "private".

I remember what a therapeutic space this used to be.  And then we met, and it ended.  I could no longer speak freely, without fear of judgment or betraying trust, or hurting feelings.  The dynamic completely changed, probably, for both of us.  I was his muse.  Then we met and moved in together on the same day, and our writing simultaneously screeched to a halt.  Was that the beginning of his decline?  Of mine?   Was his decline inevitable, and my presence just an unrelated casualty?

C has assigned a task of writing daily.  And I remember what a powerful daily practice that used to be, so I will give it another try.  Again after all of these years.

Also...

Another thought...

Doing/being nothing can feel like REBELLION.

HIGHS/LOWS, ANGRY/HAPPY

Day 1:


HIGH
Talking with C & getting assignments...
(Taking a shower, going outside, to talk with her from the car, human connection, brainstorming, hopefulness...  (Shook me from fog & forcing me to do something somewhat "normal")...  I literally had to set an alarm yesterday for 7pm today in order to be able to talk with her at 8pm. That is how FUCKED my "schedule" is right now!!!  So crazy & messed up.)

LOW
Waking up at 5pm. Struggling for over an hour to open eyes and stay awake)...

ANGRY
Angry at myself for not taking my dog outside
Angry at myself for not getting food for my buddy - (what will he eat? nothing? but, i shouldn't give up?  but, he refuses almost everything?)  Just bought a salad, and nothing for him... Feel like a total asshole!!!!!!!!!!
At myself for getting a donut after talking with C


HAPPY
Writing here, now...    :)   :)  :)

Post Life-Coaching Thoughts...

The thoughts and ideas are tumbling in fast.   Just experienced my third life coaching session with the  talented and awesome C....  Brainstorming...


I felt SEEN.  (Call-back to my first post here....)
What is: wanting to feel seen?  What does this mean?
Is this almost primal?  Wanting a legacy?  Wanting a life to mean something?  To be remembered?  Valued?  Is this why people have kids?  Write novels?  Crave celebrity status or fame?  Or want to accumulate?  (Money, and things, and....)
What is feeling seen?
The validation of my existence?
Not being alone?
Bridging a connection to another human being?
Feeling understood?   What is feeling understood?  The reduction and lifting from the burden of shame....  Feeling normalized and "OK"?  ....I don't know...


SHAME as a re-occuring theme in so many aspects of my life:  self-talk re: my projects (they're "cheesy/silly/embarrassing")... (She noticed & called me out on this)...  The influence of SHAME on my career choices/and lack of choices....  SHAME in regards to my self-concept/weight/self-esteem.  The impact of SHAME on my social life - being avoidant.   And just generally, the constant presence of SHAME in my daily internal-dialogue.

Re-vitalizing, and renewing my commitment to multiple projects, not just photography.    Including this blog.

And I am already forgetting.... What else was there?

MEMORY CHALLENGES.  Confusion.   The need for structure and a schedule and routine and goals.   The challenge of timelessness in our home - closed curtains, darkness, TV,  completely devoid of any sort of regularity or adherence to time.

The significance of POWER in relationships.  Everyone holds a certain amount of power in the eyes of others.  It's present in every interaction, and although unseen, influences everything!  (IE: the power dynamic between employee/employer,  men/women, white ppl/poc,  teacher/students, patient/doctors, old/young, even tall/short people!  everything!  everyone!!! all the time!)...  In this way, I feel like my relationship with C could be even extra helpful, because she holds a great deal of "power" because I've been aware of her for years previous to our meeting.  I think this might actually inspire even more drive to be "compliant" and willingness to make and meet my goals, as defined together in our sessions.  And this might be helpful, because, complacency is a huge challenge at the moment.  

IE:  Do I even care?   About, ANYTHING?

.....IE: Losing weight, exercising, healthy eating....   "Do I even care?"  
Why?   I haven't had a very convincing answer for myself... I think it's safe to say, I need help with this.   I need help caring.   And who better to help than someone I already admire and appreciate, and trust.  Who I'd like to stay connected with and to like me! (embarrassing!) ugh. gross.


My 6 assignments:

1 Journal Daily: High/Lows   plus

2 things: What I'm angry/happy about….  (identify it)…. show it to c if i want

i can repeat it the same ones every day, if need be, but, in new words, re-written

2 Exercise Daily:  1-10 minutes, (sun salutation, for example)

3 Meetup.Com research, lookup shows, anything social

4 Master list of goals & detailed:  do 1 to 2 things from the detail list, and check off

5 Photography:

6 Be mindful of my personal negativity and oppose 

How did she come up with these so quickly?  How did she hone in, and identify, and assign, all within an hour?    There's so many issues, and so many things I wanted to talk about with her, and so many things to share, and so many issues..... She cuts through the bullshit, and just fucking ASSIGNS.  (How does she know if they're the right assignments?)   But maybe this is exactly what i need.   To just fucking START.  Just some place to start.   And cut through the "analysis paralysis" and "perfectionism"  and the inertia.... And maybe it's much less important, aka, NOT important at all what it is my assignment is, but rather, that i'm simply DOING   S O M E TH I N G.. That there is forward movement, and routine, and life beyond sitting and TV.....   Holy shit.  Pathetic.  But true.    ....And there it is!   The shame, and negative self-talk... The mental poison that infects me.    So, I will counter it:  (As per #6 of my assignments).....

NEGATIVE SELF-JUDGEMENT/thought

"My current meandering floating life of nothingness/schedulelessness/isolation is pathetic/embarrassing/awful"  (which is probably why i had so much anxiety/shame/embarrassment going into my call with C today.  I want help improving, but, I'm ashamed of how much help I need. I want to be worthy? And to be friends?  And to be liked?)   

OPPOSING thoughts:

It is not pathetic, because......

What immediately comes to mind, is things like, "i can actually do better... I've done better before... It's just temporary... etc"... But, I actually don't think these are opposing the shame and judgment of being non-productive... These are just justifications that kindof sidestep the self-recrimination.  I feel like I need to dig deeper here...   Why do I have to be productive, and goal oriented in order to not feel ashamed?   Would I be a bad person, or worthless if I didn't achieve?   That's so sad and crazy. Of course not.  Is my buddy a bad person because he lives in isolation, and watches tv every day?   No!   But, I do feel for him.  It does make me sad.  I want more for him in life.  I want him to feel fulfilled and enriched, and happy.   Is he now?  I don't think so.   Am I?  Definitely not.  But, at least he's not burdened with the added layers of shame that I heap onto myself....  

"Floating in life is not pathetic because.... 10:52pm to 11:05pm I've been trying to complete the sentence, I still can't... 

I'll try this... 

"The BENEFITS of floating, and no schedule, and no structure are....."

Freedom? relaxation?  less stress? self-indulgence?... a protected state?...

Is this a version of self-care?

I've never thought of it this way before....


When I sleep 16 hours, and sleep through the entire day, it's kind-of cocooning... I'm wrapping myself in blankets, and burrowing in.... Nothing exists. I'm untouchable. Can't be reached. It's disorienting &; upsetting, but maybe it's safe. It's escapism. Denial. Fear.


Creating small baby steps, and goals, and accountability... Those are lifelines that inviting me to reach out and step away from the abyss.... They're concrete, and powerful. Daunting & exhausting, but, life-affirming, and make sense. I want to go forward, because it makes sense. If I'm going to be alive, I might as well try to make it work.   

I might as well try to make it work.

Life-coaching as an antidote to depression?

Being forced to be alive to and accountable, forward moving, and a surrogate source who cares (until i'm able to care on my own?)

#LoveWins

Out of nowhere, the United States Supreme Court has ruled that gay marriage will be legal in all 50 states.  Never in my wildest dreams did I think this was possible.  Amazing. And wonderful.  Too good to be true!    A win for humanity and justice and goodness and hope.    

Something Has To Change

So often in life, I've found myself angry and resentful and hurting.  "Where is everyone?  Where is family?  Friendship?  Family?  Anyone who cares?" Internally I'd lament.  Scanning photos of tropical vacations, and smiling children, and backyard barbecues on social media, I felt even more alone.  "No one cares."   There was no communication, no connection, no real live humanity in sight. No presence in anyone's lives.  There was the 500 square feet of this studio.  The small urine soaked patch of grass just behind the pathway to the elevator.  A disinterested stare at Starbucks, from a barista waiting on my order.  And the very occasional "hello".   Alone.

I wanted to end it.  Often.  I was suffocating.  Alone.

I now lived not only in the same state, but the same city as my brother.  Year after year passed.  No phone call, no invitation.  No interest.    Alone.

Surrounded by millions and millions of people.  Living in a building with hundreds of people.  Living on a floor with dozens of people.   Home with a man.  Suffering.   Alone.

And now that I think about it, it was quite ironically nice of me to not end it out of consideration for all of these people who expressed very nearly zero interest or concern for the state of my life, and  hadn't the time or inclination for meaningful connection.

On the other hand, what effort had I made in life to forge meaningful connections in any consistent way?

Not much.

Was it my fault?   Theirs?   Or more disconcerting,  no-one's.   Perhaps, beyond personal, individual failings,  it reflects a much bigger, more important issue.  A microcosm of a widespread systemic failing.  A symptom of diseased society, sick with isolation and materialism, confused priorities,  and disconnection.   A nation of narcissists, clamoring for the spotlight, fishing for likes.

It's an unhealthy, empty trajectory.  Relentless selfies won't bring peace.

So, my face was peeled like a banana...

It's been a week now.

I'm doing well, but it's been somewhat dramatic.  I have no feeling or sensation in my ear and most of the left side of my face.   Extremely odd to touch my ear - feel like a piece of rubber attached to my head...  Gives me the creeps a bit...   I'm extremely grateful that I did not really have any facial paralysis though, as that was a very real possibility as it's a potential side effect of messing with the facial nerves.  Disfigurement, scarring, numbness - these are all quite insignificant, in my mind, but not having the ability to smile, or create facial expression would have a big impact on quality of life, I think.   Because in essence, my ability to communicate would be compromised.   Also, I'm a rather dramatic, facially expressive person.    Aka: being a cornball is pretty fundamental to my person.   I'm not sure how it would be, if that physical ability was compromised.

Stayed overnight in the hospital.  And to be honest, I enjoyed it.  I loved the camaraderie of my 71 year old roommate and her extended family visits.  (She was 1 of 15 siblings, and the are all very close, she told me).   I also loved the visits from the nurses, and the aids, and the breakfast in bed, and the beautiful view from the window.   I could honestly stay there forever.  Well, maybe not forever, but I sure didn't mind it.  

Also, there's something about sickness that made me feel safe and loved. By contrast, sickness can also evoke loneliness and fear.   So, actually, I'm feeling shocked that I just wrote that.  Now that I think about it, loneliness was a huge issue right before the surgery.    ...Maybe a truer statement, is that sickness is emotional and real.  I felt so vulnerable.  But also alive, and connected.  Maybe I felt safety in that vulnerability.  No not safety, comfort.  Maybe I'm trying to say that the vulnerability (or lack of safety).... WHAT THE FUCK AM I SAYING>>>>>>>!>!!>?!>!  ok ignore this whole paragraph?!!?!? ....

Thinking....

When I was wheeled away to surgery, I felt fear.  When I found myself surrounded by nurses, doctors, and anesthesiologists, and they were preparing to administer anesthesia, I suddenly felt sensory overload and cried.  I was scared I would have a panic attack.  I was so embarrassed. Then insisted to everyone that I was ok, and don't worry, don't worry, I'm ok, it's just physical.   Mortified.

That was before.

But when I was waking up, and their was darkness, and just a voice, "How are you feeling Indigo?"  The fear had left.  I answered, eyes still closed, "Nauseous and thirsty."  And had full confidence that the voices heard, and would help.  I had surrendered. I felt surrendered.  Maybe that's the "safety", that I felt?   Like a child, no responsibility, no expectations, barely conscious.  Before long an ice chip appeared in my mouth.   I don't know how it got there, I don't know where I was, I don't know who was with me, but I said I was thirsty, and the ice chip appeared to quench my thirst.   And it was heavenly, that ice chip.  Truly incredible.  .....Just like my first meal of mush after the surgery when I had been wheeled back to my room.   "THIS IS BEST SOUP I HAVE EVER TASTED IN MY ENTIRE LIFE",  I explained to my brother who was sitting in my room.  He laughed, but I didn't know why, because I was not kidding.  It was truly divine.  

Why?

What made that that mushy bland food, and simple soup so amazing?   It could be related to the drugs, but I think it was more than that.  There was something about the entire experience that felt... Almost spiritual....

What was it?

Dear C, 

Thank you so much for you flexibility last night!   I am SO sorry!  I feel like I've been in a bit of a fog since we last spoke.   Because my surgery was rescheduled, I ended up having the week to myself, which sounds great!   ~An awesome opportunity to finally do all the things I've been dying to do (i.e.: finally set up the studio management system I finally picked (after months of research), finally finally FINALLY FINALIZE my pricing, create some marketing PDFs, organize my apt... etc), but instead, I choked!   I slept all day, stayed awake night, and basically did 1 of two things at all times: watch standup comedy, or compulsively research medical stuff related to the surgery.  And that's about all I can remember of the entire week.  I'm pretty sure I didn't even leave the apt?    I don't know?   It's a blur?  Who am I?  What day is this? What happened?   And then it was Sunday morning, and I was like "oh shit! what was my homework?! omggggggg!"     

I am so sorry! 

I think I was in serious denial about this medical thing (tumor removal & simultaneous news that I might have lupus???)- I didn't think much of it at all.  A couple friends texted me, "UM> ARE YOU OK WITH THIS?  HOW ARE YOU?"   And I was like, "Um yeah! sure! why not? Of course! it's fine!" (??)    

....AND THEN I STARTED READING... 

And then I couldn't stop.   

There were so many side effects, and it was so crazy, and so surreal, and I was having trouble mentally absorbing what I was seeing.   

"THIS IS A FOR-REAL, LEGIT, ACTUAL MAJOR OPERATION.  MY FACE IS GONNA BE PEELED LIKE A BANANA.  I MAY NEVER FEEL MY EAR AGAIN.  I COULD  LIKE A STROKE VICTIM FOR LIFE. Seriously. WHAT. IS. HAPPENING. HERE"   

The doctor had been so casual and quick & in a hurry?  Like, "no biggie - see ya laterz"  (Maybe that's New York style?) 

But, consolidation prize: i am gonna have one sweet badass scar down my neck!  Like a boss!  

So not ALL bad.   i can say I was in a knife fight and kinda not be lying. 

I actually think that much more physical considerations, it's evoked some emotional stuff.   I've been the primary caretaker of my partner for the last decade. He's an amazing, beautiful soul and I love him.   But knowing that he won't there while I'm in hospital, the way I have been for him all of these years,  kinda re-ignites the loneliness of our unorthodox relationship that I usually try to mentally repress down. 

So anyway, maybe that's an overshare, but, I wanted you to know that I sincerely appreciate our time together, and wanted you to have some context to explain a little bit about my "disembooogelaated" state last night!!!    It wasn't because I don't care!   I SO CARE!  And am SO excited to work with you.  :)

In fact, I better go, because I have homework to do!   STAT! 

Warm regards, 

Indigo

Nervousness.

Fear.

And so very tired.

Having a tumor removed from my face in 10 days.   How is this happening?  So confusing, and surreal.   My mind is having difficulty adjusting.

I've spent 10 years taking care of him

Now, who will take care of me?

Nervous & and lonely.

NEVER!

It's never too late.


It's never too late.


It's never too late.


It's never too late.


It's never too late.


It's never too late.


Never!

After so many years.

Without looking at old posts, I have no idea where I left off.  Maybe a year ago.  Maybe 5.  Why am I writing here again?   Haven't I outgrown this place by now?   Not at all.  I suspect I'm just as immature and insecure and self-absorbed as ever, even now after four decades of the same.  And I continue writing posts as I think - when I walk, or sit, or lie down and drift off to sleep in bed.    This is my sacred place.   Where I am my most authentic self.   Even if it's just a construct in my head.

I lost my Director job in a moderate shroud of infuriating scandal.  Too painful and old to go into today, but just know, that eventually, I came to a place of peace with it.   I know that I was wronged.  I know that I did good work.  I know that I was respected and loved.  And I know that it taught me difficult but important lessons about life.   I was freed, in so many ways.    From the naiveté of youth, from the bondage of expectations,  from the entrapment of security.  And now with that behind me, I'm finally, finally free to construct the life that I choose by my own design.   There could be no greater gift!   The following years of despair, and doubt and fear, and frustration were worth it.   All worth it.

10 Years of Indigo-Blues?

So, it's been a couple years.

Time is crazy.  Time is SO crazy man.

I started this in 2004?  That's what the archives on the border of this page say.  Can that be true?

10 years?  10 years?!

Crazy.

I turned 40 this year.   Am I the same person as when I began this blog?   How will my writing compare?    I'd have to guess that I'm a little less naive today then when I started.
A little harder.  
A little more resigned to 'what will be will be'.  
I'm avoiding saying 'cynical', but, in all truth, my awareness of moments of bitterness worry me.  I don't want to become a cliche.  Angry, old, ugly, childless fat lady.  Is that me?   Perhaps.   In my mind.  Sometimes.  But it's all a state of mind.  And I work diligently on staying present, and hopeful, and activated in my own life, even if it's in just the tiniest of ways.  Other times, in my mind, I am light and vibrant, optimistic and connected, and generally filled with awesome.

Can't type much more now - due to MIXED COMPANY... ha.  but.  perhaps i'll be back soon.  perhaps i'll visit more often?  Perhaps i'll fire up the ol' blogging kiln?    It's certainly a different blogging landscape today in 2014 then 2004.  I would be SHOCKED if a single person saw and read this.  But that's ok.  I'm not here for attention.   I'm here for.....

me?

In the REAL world, HOW much REAL is ok?

This is where I am most fully myself.   I show my ugliness. My despair. Shame. And most especially, my unlimited self-absorption.  I try to write as I think.  Unedited and unsophisticated.   Complete with suspect vocab and disregard for writing convention (spelling and such).  Almost no editing.

And I like this?

What would be the impact of behaving this way in "real life"?   What if, for example, I wrote not as an anonymous entity, but as me, as I am known in the world.  Which ironically, is probably far less me then I am here, where my "identity" is not known.

I think about this allot.

Allot.

I want all of these disparate selves to come together.   ~A reunification of personalities.   My administrator/leader hat, my comedian hat, my disgusting inappropriate fart joke self,  my loving, philosophical, good friend counselor hat, my superficial glamour self, my hippie no-shower taking fuck-the-world-i-want-revolution self, my pensive, loud, annoying, over-accomodating, look-at-me, self-deprecation self.   I want it all.  Can I have that?  Who will be my audience?  Who will understand?  Love me?  Believe me?   Are labels necessary for understanding?    What would that really look like.  Would my label be, "eccentric"?  Worse?  Would I be trusted?

Borderline personality.  Multiple personality disorder.  Crazy.  We have to pick.  Why?

Leonardo Da Vinci.  Now that's what I'm talkin' about.  No one told him he couldn't be all things.  Explore all places.  Pursue all his dreams.  Or maybe they did?  I actually have no idea - but, I'd like to know more.  Who are the Leondard Da Vinci s now?  Big and small.   I would like to know about their experience in the world.  How does it work?  Is there resistance to their way of being in the world, and if so, how do they negotiate that?

Encouragement From a Friend [emails]

Thu, Jan 17, 2013 at 4:39 PM

from: V

to: indigo

subject: KUDOS

I am so happy for you that you asked him to take over his own phone bill. Indigo that is awesome and amazing of you.   I am so happy for you. It is so wonderful that you mustered up the courage. Good for you babe.

Thu, Jan 17, 2013 at 7:43 PM

from: indigo

to: v

awwww... THANKS!!! That's sweet of you.  It just had

to be done?   Enough is enough?   I don't have the money?

And besides that, it's not really "right"....  :)

Got a call for a position xxx downtown NYC.  Here we go again!

Meanwhile, I've made good progress on my "biz" ideas

the past few days!   It's a race to the finish!

Thu, Jan 17, 2013 at 7:50 PM

from: V

to: indigo

I need the details on your request! How did you do it? And how did you get to the place where you could do it?

I love hearing that you get interviews. It makes me feel good about my resume? Even though I know you don't want these jobs. 

I just feel like if you did want these jobs: you would get the positions.

When I'm done with my Smith application and signed my lease and moved--let's meet up!  

Thu, Jan 17, 2013 at 8:17 PM

from: indigo

to: v

Admittedly, I made a couple "mistakes" on the JJ interview - but, I didn't think they where necessarily catastrophic?  The other one, I don't know?  I thought I was being "me"?  I even thought there had been some great moments?  So, it's weird and worrisome and disconcerting.  There could be something wrong with 1)me 2)my presentation 3) or it's random.   But, my track record is starting to be unfavorable.  So, I don't know?????????????????????????????? 

Just trying hard the past few days to "keep going" and "not give up" and I got back to work on my websites, and social media connections, and brainstorming, and such, and then that gave me the momentum I needed maybe that extended to being able to ask him ?   I also, somehow, managed to call unemployment today, which I have been neglecting for weeks (and weeks?), because it felt so horrible and daunting and I was afraid.  It was hard.    Also.... I think the root of my ability to "move forward" has been a perspective of forgiveness.  When I forgive myself, and I have more compassion for myself, I feel more capable and emotionally able to take "steps".  Instead of berating myself for being so lame/pathetic/useless, I mentally reward myself for ANY sort of effort.... I'm setting the barre so low so I can experience ANY semblance of "succeed"....  And now that I think about it, that's how I first lost weight....  A) I had to start with forgiveness and self-compassion .... and B) I had to set the bar so low that I could feel success - which was the part where my goal was to simply put on my shoes and STAND on the treadmill.. 

OH!  ALSO, I did laundry a few days ago.  I can't actually tell you how long it's been sitting there mocking me?  It was a desperate situation.  I was contemplating buying more underwear to accommodate it. 

I guess last, (now that I'm thinking about it), I think and sort of SOCIAL human being related interaction give mes a huge JOLT of GOOD FEELINGS and enthusiasm and motivation and COMFORT.  The dinner was helpful.  Also, a few times with my buddy's Mom.  Our chats are nice.  A phone conversation with L.  They all make me feel more human?  And "ok"?  And even capable? 

Just brainstorming....

What's going on with you today?  Smith updates?  Work updates? Apt updates?  Mental health updates?  Fitness updates?  Food updates? Hair updates?  :))

Thu, Jan 17, 2013 at 10:05 PM

from: V

to: indigo

I don't know if you are really grasping how competitive these positions really are and that it is amazing that you are even getting an interview b/c you usually have to know someone in order to get your foot in the door so that is really great. I'm psyched the resume has worked. 

You don't really want these jobs anyway b/c you feel and they are boring and not creative as well as rather a step down and you don't like "playing the game" and you are not a good bullshitter or liar as you have said and you are not passionate about any aspect of the work---not good ingredients for an interview? LOL. Do you know how far this new one is? DUDE.  

Good that going out and communicating with folks gets you motivated and that you are doing more of it. Really important and so really good to remember. 

Too tired to write more chica---later.

A lil' better week......

Feeling great in this moment.  Made progress on my goal to develop my social networks, and human, real life connections.   Spoke to friend in Florida tonight.  Eureka!

Had dinner with past professor collegues mid-week.  Woo-hoo!  I was so scared and nervous, I kinda tried to cancel via an awkwardly honest text - "Not in a great place. embarassed. dont want to make things awkward...."  (I believe in radical honesty?)....  She returned my text with an endearing scolding, "DON'T YOU DARE NOT COME! YOU ARE COMING.  I DON'T WANT TO HEAR ANYTHING ELSE.  I WILL SEE YOU AT 6 AND THERE WILL BE NO ARGUMENT." ....(something to that effect)....

While I waited for them in the lobby I choked up for a moment.. happy/excited/nervous/sad...So weird.   But I enjoyed every minute of being with them.  I miss them.  I love them!  They felt like family.   And they are like my loving Aunts and Uncles (all older).  I left the restaurant and walked home feeling PUMPED.  And
HAPPY.  Thinking about how I might be able to find a way to see them more?  Talk to her about my business idea?  Ask him for his advice?    I realized I had felt normal for a moment.   I was reminded that I used to be so  functional, and on-point, and awesome.  I saw myself with different eyes and it lifted my spirits.  I am capable?  That's right!

Took my buddy's Mother to a few doctor appointments during the week and then "hung out" walking around malls and going to eat.  She's fun, and creative, and free spirited and a just a little bit crazy.  I like that.  It inspires me.  Her presence reassured me that it's ok to be different.  She's confident  Artistic.  And fabulous. And little bit wild.  She's beautiful and it reminds me to take care of myself and not give up.  She's hasn't been able to work for 6 months due to injuries and we exchange stories of the inappropriate things people say to us about it, and how people seem to either disappear or act weird in times of financial need.

And tonight I've been listening to entrepreneurial podcasts and am back to plotting my business ideas.

Thank god.

I have to pursue this and do it.

I can't give up!

There's no reason why I can't do it?

The key, I'm convinced, is persistence.

Even bought a calendar, to help me not forget.

Just re-read my post....

GOD I AM SO ANNOYING!!  UGHHH!

New Year: Old Issues: But Not Giving Up Hope

3am.

Watched Biggest Loser and promptly ate a Skinny Cow ice cream cone. Back to mindless dribble tv. Then another cone. And another.  A bowl of Doritos   And back to the ice cream cones.   Now my stomach feels sick and I know I must set a new rule - No more buying these cones.   I will have to put myself on restriction.  I can not be trusted.  This cycle is familiar. Gross. Stupid.  Self-defeating.  I know it well, and I know better.

My sleep cycle is off, as per usual.  With no place to be, no responsibilities, no work, no appointments, time barely exists.  There's no need to wake up.  There's no need to go to sleep.  Chaos.

Dirty Laundry (Pile 1 of 2) 

I want to keep writing, but I am tired.
Fatigue surrounds me like a blanket. Day and night.
I can't seem to escape it.

I've been "working" on learning about entrepreneurial endeavors.  I've been "working" to try to stay inspired, and believe on some level that I CAN create something, and that it MIGHT be possible?  I've been on a good stretch the past few days.  Very good!  I was encouraged and motivated and hopeful.

Today, not so much.

Today, my stomach feels awful. And gross. And I want to throw up. My body feels dirty. And everything around seems gross.  The clutter.  The noise of the TV.  The skuzzy bathroom sink that won't drain.  The gross bathroom tiles that are precariously hanging by the grout. The blackness on the edges that I am too tired to scrub. Or acknowledge. Or think about.

Goal for the new year is human contact.  Being so alone, so often, (not counting my buddy) can not be good for us.  It can not be healthy.  A couple weeks ago my friend was in town and we had dinner in the the city.  I was so nervous.  I haven't seen him since I was 19 when he was an exchange student from Europe for a year.  I was so nervous I didn't want to see him.
But I did.
I did, but I didn't.
I wanted to see him, but I didn't want him to see me because I am so fat and so ashamed and so unemployed and listless.
And lost.
I don't want anyone to see me so lost.  And worthless.  
I know one thing is for sure, once i DO get myself together, and am working/or self-employed, I will never, EVER forget what it is like to be in this situation.  I will not forget the doubt and fear and depression that grows from not having a job, something to do, a purpose.  I didn't fully understand it.  I minimized the impact.  I saw the emotional piece as over exaggerated. But now I get it, and i sure hope that some day I'll be in a position to help folks who are struggling the way i am struggling now.

We have to help each other.

We have to hold each others hands.

We have to love each other back to health.

And yes, I'm speaking for myself.  I could sure use some help!  Anybody!  Help!

Note to self: Another goal for this year: learning how to ask for help.  Reaching out.  Communicating.  Like, in a real life, real human sort of way.   Not mysteriously, anonymously through veils of social media, or worse, in my head!

I need to PICK UP A PHONE perhaps?

God, just writing that makes me immediately rebut - "So unrealistic.  I'm not gonna really do that?!"

Ok. So, maybe I'll start with emails, and work my way up to coffee dates.

But, seeing my friend energized me, and awakened me, and filled me with excitement and life!  It was mesmerizing and incredible and i loved it and treasured it and didn't want it to stop.  It was like I was a real person.  Normal again.  And living.  And happy.  And confidant.  And a person who was worthwhile.

A hair away from Hoarders.

And then I came home and it was gone.

I was thinking about getting a calendar.  To most people, that would be normal.  To me, i've had no need.  But, now I think i might like to have an organized location to track my thoughts, and goals.  A home to keep stay rooted in time and space.  Something to remind me that I am alive and that I can in fact think constructively and definitely about things i want to do each week:

a) Identify 20 mentors/folks I look up/that I would like to emulate
b) Write emails/ask for coffee dates?
c) Check out 20 books (small biz/online projects)
d) Laundry  (that hasn't been done in over a month)
e) Treadmill
f)  Maybe 10 ideas a day?  But I don't know. This scares me - putting all the things I could be, but am not doing in black and white.

Even something as ridiculous as a shower, yes, a shower - I think I need to write down and schedule, because  yes, it has gotten THAT bad.  And for my buddy, worse.  Our collective hygiene is beyond what you could imagine.  Abysmal.  Homeless person level.  Horrible. And embarrassing.  And crazy.   His reason: his shoulder pain.  And his general pain.  And, I think, depression?    My reason?   I don't know - who cares.

Who cares.

Well, I wrote more than I thought I could. I'm happy for that.  If only I could keep it up. That would be great.

We'll see.

I know better than to make any promises.   Wouldn't want more ammunition to feel like a failure.

So, we'll see.

Nothing New

No word from that interview.   My confidence has morphed to embarrassment.  Surely, I must have made an ass of myself - revealing so much - talking with such inflated ego.  I'm back to nothing.  Without a vision of the future.  Unhappy in the present. Lamenting the past.  I'm feeling negative.  Overwhelming negative.  Rudderless and lost. 

Blogging Again?

There was a time, long before most people had heard of "blogging",  that I wrote here daily.  I made it very easy on myself.  It didn't matter what I wrote,  or the quality of what I wrote.   My goal was simply to get in the daily practice of recording my thoughts.  Raw.  To let go of judgement.  And of agendas.  And expectations.  The result was a free-er mind, and more genuine words.  Straight from the heart.  Inevitably, it became a therapeutic process - one that I began to look forward to.

That was a great time that I think of often.   At that time I was single.  And quite alone.   Anonymity freed me to be unhinged, direct, and impolite.  I wrote as swiftly as I thought.  I feel like the only reason (which is a big reason) I don't take it up again is that I am no longer single and now feel an obligation to censor my thoughts and feelings in a way that protects him.  It's not that I have terrible things to hide, it's just that, full-scale uninhibited ranting takes on a new meaning when there are real life people involved. How is he supposed to know what is true, and what is dramatic license?   It seems like now, the effects of revealing every single passing thought could be disastrous?

On the other hand, I miss that freedom.  That truth.  That quality, therapeutic "me" time.  I miss sharing and connecting with my (few) readers.  

So, a dilemma.  What do I do?

Hamster Wheel

I hate repeating myself.   And I can only imagine how many times I've done that here.   And as I contemplate another post, after all of these years, I wonder just how much of it will be just more of the same - revealing how little I've grown or changed at all.  Pixels upon pixels of the same ol' self-absorption.  Same ol' self-pittying.  Same ol' cycles of depression and stagnation sprinkled with rainbow flavored delusion, chocolate covered self-grandeur and unicorn balls of hope.  HE tells me that I'm NOT bipolar   I, however, am unconvinced.

What is the Guinness Book World Record for longest identity crisis ever experienced?  Because I may be a contender.   This past year has been dominated by self-inquiry - the kind that I've been doing since childhood.   Who am I?  What am I good at?  What should I be doing?  How am I going to get there?  How do I decide?  What do I do first?  Where do I start?

I'm still looking for a mentor.   A social network.   Family.  Friends.   Well, technically they do exist, but not the real life kind.  Well, they are real, but they are not PRESENT outside of emails and the internetz.   I miss people.  Human beings. In real life form.  Before me. In all their touchable, smell-able glory.  People to give hugs!  And to laugh with.  Out loud, in my ears.  Where I can hear them.

Most days, it's just he and I.  In this studio, with our wiener.  Occasionally, when I have to, I will walk to the store, anxiously averting eyecontact, and shuffling home with my pink backpack filled with his diet coke.

We returned our leased Toyota Camry to the dealership last month since I still haven't found a job and Unemployment is millimeters from the end.   I did finally start applying for jobs in earnest last month.  As many as I could find, I sent my resume and cover letter to.  I've received 3 calls and had an interview last week.   I left the office as high as a kite - feeling stoked.

"Nailed it." I texted him.

I was certain I had charmed them to pieces.  I wanted to be their best friends.  For sure they couldn't wait to work with me.  I had so much to offer!   That night the doubts started creeping in.   Was I TOO confident?   Did I talk TOO much?   Was I fooling myself?  And then I couldn't sleep, replaying all of the moments again and again and again.  Soon, my fear-machine transmogrified my favorite moments into daggers to the heart!  "What was I thinking?"  "Who did I think I was?!"

Oy vey.   The neurosis!

Enough!

Snap out of it!

And back to TV.  Reading Facebook updates.   Compulsive Gems with Friends.  Sleeping 12 hours.  And TV.  Reading Facebook updates.   Compulsive Gems with Friends.  Sleeping 12 hours.  And Gems with Friends.